“Let’s hope you’ll be as good to my ass as you’ve been to my legs,” he joked as I started massaging his back, his skin rough and textured under my palms. “What’s your name, by the way? Did Lord Adriyel ever tell me?”
“He didn’t.” Lord Adriyel didn’t know it himself. He’d never asked. “It’s Amira.”
“A lovely name, just like you. Well, tell me, Amira, what happened to that little boy in the story?”
My hands paused, as if on their own. “You want to know more about him?”
“Well, when I speak, I make you sad. I’d rather let you speak. It amuses me to listen to the boy’s adventures. The rascal has just stolen some paddle boards with his friends, hasn’t he? That’s what you told me last.”
“Yes.” I smiled, resuming my work.
“I can’t believe they tricked the barmaid into giving them the key to the lock. Did they ever get caught? By the way, does the boy have a name, too?”
“He does.” I lifted my hands from the king’s back as my fingers began to tremble. I fisted them and closed my eyes before saying his name. “Kyllen.”
Tears burned behind my eyelids, and I shut my eyes tighter, holding them in.
“Kyllen? It sounds familiar somehow. Is he real or did you make him up?” The king’s voice remained light. Lying on his belly, he couldn’t see me, and had no idea what effect saying that name out loud had on me.
“He’s real.” I swallowed a thick lump in my throat. “Was. He’s…no longer here.”
“He’s dead?”
Dead.
The word just couldn’t apply to someone like Kyllen. He’d always been so full of life even when on the verge of death at the menagerie.
“Well, that’s too bad,” the king drawled. “I would’ve liked to have known him.”
I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. “I’m sure you would’ve loved him. Kyllen was so easy to love.”