She turned to him sharply, wheels turning dangerously in her head already to come up with a lie, her lungs clogging with fear, only for her to discover that he wasn't looking at her but at someone else.
“Look! Arlo is walking!” He declared in hushed excitement.
Aniya rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath of relief, tucking away the poison bottle. He didn't catch her, she could still kill him.
“Arlo can walk.”
“For long distances like that?” He turned to her, surprised.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“In fact, we must redesign the room to accommodate him. He keeps on trying to pull things down.”
Ikrus frowned. In a flash, he was holding Arlo who was strongly protesting against being held. He certainly wanted to play on the ground.
“How old is the little one?”
“Arlo,” she said, emphasizing his name, subtly ensuring that he wouldn't call him “little one” again, “will be two soon.”
Ikrus nodded, taking the information in as he easily moved Arlo from one hand to another in his struggle to get down.
“How old are you?”
His sudden interest in her made her feel uneasy. Everything about what was happening right now made her feet uneasy. Ikrus was always talking about how he intended to not create any attachments with her then suddenly he decided to take them all to a garden where lovers were, bought out a section of the garden for them, and started asking questions like he wanted to know, and be more, not just as a father but to have them as a family.
He was even wearing a matching green shirt with black pants.
“I’m twenty,” she answered.
“Oh. You are his birth mother, are you not?”
“I am.” She looked at him as if he had just asked the most ridiculous question, a smile of mischief toying with the corners of her lips. “How old are you?” She gave in to curiosity.
“Thirty-two.”
Her smile widened; it was a sincere one - the lightness of the conversation making her forget that she hated him.
He looked at her squarely, frowning slightly. “I thought you were older.” When he saw her frown, he quickly added, “I knew you were young, but I thought you were about twenty-four especially because of the little one.”
“Arlo,” she snapped, folding her arms across her. “Don't call my son “little one” like he has no name.”
“I’m sorry. I will call our son Arlo. How are you twenty?”
“I was 18 when I began fooling around with the Head of my village so…” she smiled, moving her fingers around Arlo’s curls and pinching his cheeks lightly.
“Why?” Ikrus asked as he placed Arlo behind his neck, making him sit on his shoulders. The height excited the child, and he laughed in delight, hitting Ikrus's head and pulling at the short strands.
“He was older, maybe my father’s age or some years more? He knew what to do, what to say and I was very eager to learn about, well, many things. I thought I loved him. It really shouldn't have been him. He had a wife, a family and I slept with his son next to cover things up.”
“His son was your sister’s fiance.”
She nodded, covering her face with her palms, as if her veil wasn't already doing enough.
“It was so horrible.” She shivered, hating the memory that rushed through her mind. “Anyone else would have been better.”
“Indeed.”
That comment hurt her. It was something that she knew already but having him say something about it actually hurt.
She expected him to say more, but he didn't. Instead, he started leading her slowly to a different part of the garden.
“My mother made me feel like it was right,” she mumbled to herself then she added, now speaking to him. “It is not him I see when I look at Arlo though, my son is my son. I’m glad that they’ve helped me see that.”
Tears fogged her eyes and she was grateful for Ikrus' silence.
It was a slow stroll.
“I used to hate him.” She couldn't even look at Arlo as she spoke. “I almost killed him too because I thought he was an obstacle. I was a terrible mother. I needed special physicians at my service to recover my sanity, one that the King provided. I believe it was sister Belladonna’s doing though; she is the reason I’m alive.” Her eyes sparked with a smile. “You see, the King was in love with her then.”
“I know her,” Ikrus said. “The dragon shifter is the King.”
“Well, back then it was the other one. It is a bit complicated. Hopefully, they have resolved the fight between them. They really love each other.”
Then they stopped at a spot where a piece of cloth had been laid on the floor, taking their seats on it.
A horrendous smell seeped into the air, Arlo being responsible for that. One of the maids took him away to clean him up, although Aniya wanted to do that herself. Ikrus assured her that the maids could be trusted and they were part of the caretakers that took care of him in the Temple.
That didn't convince her enough though, but the fact that she could see them across the garden as they took care of Arlo made her feel at ease.
“Now tell me, why did you bring me here?”
“So you can go outside and be happy with Arlo.”
“Go outside? Be with Arlo?” She arched an eyebrow at him, then leaned closer. “And you need to be here for what? Protection?”
He turned to her; she was close, and her fragrance smelt like citrus.
“Yes.”
“You dread attachments with me, and for no reason, without me begging, you took me out of my prison, allowed me to have my son, and came here to spend time outside, almost like a family.” She scoffed. “Tell me the real reason. Why did you do this?”
He stared at her unblinkingly and as moments passed by, her face dropped as she realized two things.
The first was that he wasn’t going to tell her, and that was for the second reason, which was that he didn't know.
If that was a bad thing or a good thing, well, she couldn't tell.