Page 72 of Kingdom of Tomorrow
A third medic arrived. Cyrus handed me off, and the guy escorted me to the medical sector. All rooms were empty. An idea dawned, and I hustled past my assistant to enter exam room two, where I settled atop the gurney.
The medic got to work, stripping me of the upper armor and palpating the bones in my wrist.
When he exited to fetch the proper equipment, I knelt beside the gurney and patted the ground just in case Shiloh had—Yes! A chip. He’d left me a message.
Heart racing, I shoved the gift into my pocket and resituated myself on the gurney. Perfect timing.
Cyrus strode past the curtain, asking, “How are you really?” He stopped and gripped the railing at the foot of the bed.
Easy. Don’t act suspicious.“I’m good.” Better than good now that I had a message from Shiloh in my possession. But, um, why did Cyrus have to look even more noteworthy close up? He projected a shocking amount of tenderness. And I liked it. “I’m ready for tomorrow’s trip, sir.”
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. Bye, bye, tenderness. “You are lying to me, Arden.”
“I’m really not.”
The medic entered with the machinery, and Cyrus stepped aside, allowing him to perform his task.
“There’s no damage to her bone, sir,” the medic pronounced.
“Excellent. Leave us.”
We were alone in seconds. “Always so rude,” I muttered.
“I prefer to paint a clear picture so that no one is confused about my wishes.” Cyrus anchored his arms behind his back, assuming a formal position. “Juniper sprained her ankle and Miller cracked two ribs.”
Nothing too terrible. “Hopefully this won’t damage your chances of being crowned instructor of the year.”
“It won’t. I only make champions.” He canted his head to the side, studying me. “The contest irritates you. Why?”
Why not be honest, even if it got me in trouble? He valued truth, after all. “Some people might misconstrue the motive of your interest.”
“I wasn’t aware I’d given anyone else a reason to believe I harbored interest.”
He did not just imply he harbored special interest in—no. Impossible. I’d misunderstood.
Unless I hadn’t.
I gulped and dangled my legs over the side of the bed. “All I’m saying is motive matters.”
“Agreed. But you don’t know why I do the things I do, Arden.” A simple statement without heat. “You don’t know me.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I apologize.”
Silence reigned until the soft pad of his footsteps filled my ears. In front of me, he clasped my fingers with his, surprising me. He maintained his hold as he lowered my arm, keeping us linked. We stared at each other, searching.
“You don’t know me,” he repeated softly. “But would you like to?”
I blinked, unsure I’d heard what I thought I’d heard.
“I see the questions in your eyes. About me.Cured. The Soalians and their Tome Society. I’d appreciate an opportunity to respond. When you’re ready, tell me. We’ll have dinner, just the two of us, and you can ask me anything. I’ll answer.”
“Why would you do this?” I breathed out, my world rocked. There was no good reason to offer such a priceless prize.
“That is one of the questions I’ll be happy to answer over dinner.” He winked at me. “Settle in for the day and let your wrist heal.” Order given, he released me and strode from the room, leaving me floundering.
Chapter Eighteen
Abhor lies, for they will always return to devour the one who birthed them.
