I woke up early. The daylight is just coming up, and I have a heavy feeling from sleeping way too long. I'm so comfortable that I don't want to move. When I do, I meet a pair of black eyes.

  I jump back, “What… What are you…”

  He sighs, “I couldn't have my only key to breaking the curse dying on me in the night,” He says as if it's a perfectly reasonable reason for sitting up in my bed.

  The beginning lines of dark bags are just appearing under his eyes, but I turn around and go to the bathroom. He gets up and follows me.

  I spin around to face him, but that was a mistake. A bite of my previous nausea hits me.

  “Your bed's too far away from the bathroom. If I don't wait outside of it, then you won't be able to go,” he defends himself, his hands up.

  “Right,” I mutter.

  When I'm done, he stands from the wall, “My turn.”

  “Rulers don't piss,” I roll my eyes. I found that in my night search for information. It’s the reason I wasn’t provided a toilet in the prison. Not only did a whole court get my identity wrong, they mistook me as a ruler.

  “But they do freshen up for the day,” He says, with no humor in his voice.

  I wait outside the bathroom for him. He comes out, looks at me, and leads me downstairs to the dining area.

  “I can't yet,” I warn.

  “Okay.” He takes me around the area to the back, where the kitchen is tucked. Great windows overlook the property, and I take it all in.

  He follows my stare before offering me simple foods.

  “I don't know,” I sigh.

  “You need something,” he offers me the banana again, so I take it.

  I have no appetite. It might as well be the ash that I'm eating. I force myself anyway.

  The castle seems especially cold this morning, so I don't hesitate to put on extra clothes from the room. The ruler looks me up and down.

  “Where are we going today?”

  “Nowhere,” I'm shocked, “At least until you feel good enough to tell me what happened.”

  “Then where will we go?”

  “It depends on what you tell me.”

  “Okay. I think… I think I saw the dead. I saw all of them at once, and they were coming after me. Almost like they wanted me dead,” it sounds odd coming out of my mouth as I don't quite believe it myself.

  “And you've never had experiences like this before?”

  “No. Never. Have you?”

  “I'm not from The Court of Curses,” he shrugs as if that should make sense.

  “Why did that happen? I can still feel all of them,” I shiver, remembering their hands meant to inflict pain.

  “Maybe they were trying to tell you something. What did they do?”

  I cross my arms then uncross them, “I don't know. They were screaming. Someone was begging for help. The woman in front of me grabbed onto my feet. The one that came out of nowhere grabbed my shirt collar. Something pulled my hair, and I fell. One tried to pull me under the ground. I saw a boy get shot. Someone stood in the middle of it all. Oh, and everyone spoke Latin. I was shot, too?”

  He sits on the couch. Damn is his power making me disoriented.

  “Do you remember any more details?”

  I plop next to him, playing off my confusion at the sudden change in rooms. I sink and embarrass myself. Then the words begin to tumble out.

  “The boy. He was so young. He was shot with an arrow that pierced his heart. He was bleeding out in the mud, and I was running, being chased. And suddenly, I was him. I don’t understand it, but I was speaking a whole different language.”

  He looks down at the polished floor as if deciding something. He begins to take off his shirt, and I stiffen. I gasp when I see the angry scar across his heart, “My father started a rebellion when I was about twelve.”

  I stare at him, waiting for more, “And?”

  “How did the guy look standing in the middle of it all?”

  “I don't know, he just stared at me.” The ruler's eyes meet mine, and I look away. “He had shadows all around him. Like he was hidden or something.”

  “Shadows,” he nods. The room is filled with black. It fills the room like smoke in all directions, “Like this?”

  I reach out to touch the power, and it meets me, swirling around my fingers. It’s different from the shadows in the dining room.

  “Exactly like this.”

  “I think you saw the past. For some reason, mine.”

  I pick at the seam of the black couch.

  “Does it mean anything?” I reach and touch another shadow, which scurries away.

  “No. Historically, Cursed Court rulers can see the dead and previous battles. And, you can communicate with the dead.”

  “Did your dad show that to me?”

  “I can’t imagine why he would,” He shrugs.

  “I’m no ruler like you,” I start to shake my head, “The things you’ve told me… I’m not any of them. I need a toilet too.”

  “I would have believed that yesterday,” he says.

  “And now?”

  My anxiety spikes. I shoo away some of the shadows and they obey.

  “I don’t know. You’re seeing dead people now.”

  “What do you mean? And if you know that I’m human,” something hums around me, and I look at him, then resume, “Then why would you ever expect me to do anything for the curse? I wish I had the power just to break it and get out of here. To get out of here,” I look around at the castle, frustrated.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  I glare at him, “Everybody always has a choice. Sometimes it’s just less pleasant than others.”

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  “Maybe, maybe not. What I do know is that now we have to do what we can with what we have.”

  “And what do we have? Something about Kai the keyholder?” I throw my arms up.

  “My name is Adar, like my father, but he believed that I was unworthy of his name. Kai is my middle name, the one that I go by.”

  “He didn’t believe you were worthy?”

  “It means noble, worthy, and things along that manner.”

  “Why wouldn't you be worthy and all that?”

  Someone passes by in the hallway and we both look. A maid? I'm not sure. He waits for them to go before resuming.

  “I was a disappointment to my family. My father would have celebrated my death if my brother had killed me.” He’s done talking.

  “I’ve heard stories about you,” I realize, “You killed your whole family as a teenager and then cut off the queen’s head to take the throne. You were… Never meant to be the ruler.”

  Shit. What have I done? Just confronted him?

  He laughs, “I did not kill my family, so don’t look at me like that.”

  “Then who did?” The hair rises on my arms.

  “My father died in his own rebellion. My brother lured my mother into it at the wrong time.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  His eyes tell me that I should stop trying to get to know him, but he answers anyway, “I think jealousy did it. I was my mother’s favorite. I guess my father's favoring him wasn’t enough. He was my replacement. He took oaths to become the king before I did. Yet for some reason, both of my parents' powers went to me.”

  “I didn’t know that it could get passed down?” I consider the stinging feeling that I felt, “If stinging is your father’s power, then what was your mother’s?”

  “That doesn’t matter. Both, including mine, made me stronger than the queen herself. I killed her because it was kill or be killed… The politics here are a little different than in the human world.”

  “Not really. People kill others all the time for power. What happened to your brother?”

  “I don’t pay attention to what he does. I suppose if I want to find him, then I could follow a trail of death and discover him.”

  “You said you didn’t have a family or an heir?”

  “Not since my parents died,” he disagrees.

  “Aren't you supposed to be… Dead by now?”

  He laughs, the dark king laughing in the face of death, “Who told you that?”

  The shadows seem to laugh at me too, becoming lighter than I've ever seen them. They don't leave. They just fade away. I watched transfixed before explaining to his face why this man should be dead.

  “The story is centuries old.”

  He smiles wider, “So am I.”

  “How old are you?”

  “You know plenty about me. What do I call you?” He asks instead.

  “How old are you?” I ask again, frustrated.

  He waits, “My name is Myra. Do you trust your father about the whole key thing?”

  “I trust him. Can I trust you, Myra?”

  Can he trust me? Can I trust him? And even if I did, what would that mean for me? He did kidnap me from my home. He humiliated me repeatedly, then left me in a cellar. He’s used mind tricks and has ignored a good portion of my questions or comments. He is clearly in this for himself and his kingdom. His promise to set me free means nothing without my having the power to break the curse.

  “You said that we shouldn’t get to know each other. I think I agree.” I bitterly suggest.

  The shadows in the corners of the room move. I feel their uneasiness.

  “You don’t trust me?” He guesses.

  “Not entirely.”

  “I think I trust you,” he says anyway, stunning me.

  “Why?”

  “Because you have been honest with me. You say what you are thinking, and I know it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It wouldn’t help your trust in me if I didn’t tell you, would it?” he asks to seemingly no one.

  No, it wouldn’t, I think to myself. How could I ever trust him? And after everything that’s happened?

  “You can trust that I’ll make sure that we find a way to break the curse. You’ll go home.”

  “How can you know that?” I ask. I sit up straighter. And what is he not telling me?

  “I just do know it.”

  Then I realize what I think he is telling me, “How’d you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Read my mind?” I'm flustered. “What other powers do you have?”

  I shake my head, “Never mind, but stay out of my head.”

  “I can’t. I can only hear it when you ask questions internally. It was my mother’s power meant to help create alliances and trust during war. I was born to be a warrior, not a ruler, as you seem to know. I can’t block it out or ignore it, no matter what I do.”

  “And why would you tell me that?”

  He shrugs, then leans back into the couch, “because for some reason I know that I am going to need your trust. And also because you might as well know the extent of power here.”

  “Are there mind readers?” I’m realizing how bad this can be for me.

  “Ones that would kill a human,” he nods, “you need to watch not only your words around others but also your thoughts.”

  What the fuck? Why would he tell me that? He sighs, and I know that he heard that. I will try again. How do I watch my thoughts?

  “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  I am reeling in my own thoughts. A downward spiral. At least I like slides.

  “What does that mean?”

  I cannot get my mind wrapped around it. If he’s had access to my mind this whole time then how much has he heard?

  “Exactly as it sounds,” he ignored my question thankfully.

  “How old are you?” I remember to ask.

  “Six hundred and sixty.”

  He lets me take that in, “Damn. You don't look a day over thirty,” I say because he's still watching for my reaction.

  He smiles but doesn't laugh, the reaction I wanted, I realize.

  “How long have you ruled?”

  “How old are you? I know you're a young ruler, but I have no clue,” he asks first.

  “Uhm, so I'm not up in the centuries yet,” I say, and he waits, “I'm nineteen.”

  “No wonder you die every time I don't answer a question. You haven't learned anything yet, have you?”

  “I do not almost die,” I roll my eyes, but catch him smiling, “So you were telling me how long you've ruled,” I smile back, hoping he'll answer.

  I glance away at the dark red curtains. They match the cushions in the chairs in the dining room.

  “I haven't seen you smile the whole time that you've been here.”

  It disappears right away. “Well, you kept me in a prison,” I wave my hand towards him, “I'm still a prisoner.”

  He physically cringes, “That's not my intent. I need that curse broken.”

  “And I don't know how,” I repeat.

  “Then, good thing you only have to help a little. You agreed to help break the curse. Not breaking it yourself, luckily.”

  “So I’m getting exhausted from reading through the lines. You’re telling me that every word matters here?”

  He nods once. I think about this. I must watch what I say extra. If people believe I am a ruler I better sell the idea to them. So long as no one is born with more power than myself… They shouldn’t come after me?

  “When did you kill the queen?” My thoughts turn again, racing at a hundred miles per hour.

  “When I was fifteen."

  He waits for my next question, and I'm pissed that he knows that I'd have more, “You killed her at fifteen?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you control shadows if you’re not meant to be the ruler? Don’t you have specific warrior powers? I’m assuming rulers and their subjects have different talents since you said only rulers can curse in the Cursed Court. Was it somehow passed down to you, too?”

  “No. Not passed down. When a child is born with more powers than a ruler it’s natural that they kill them. Keeps kingdoms strong. But it means powers that aren’t traditional are ruling. I don’t have the same powers as the old ruler did.”

  “But…” I hesitate.

  “Ask it.”

  I glance back to the curtains, then make sure my question sounds right.

  Can a court crumble because you don’t have the traditional powers? What a coward. I couldn’t even say it aloud.

  “It hasn't yet,” He says, but the question seems to weigh on him.

  “One more question,” I say, but he looks at me in disbelief, “How old is this castle?”

  He gives me a strange look, “It was here before my parents. So well over a thousand years.”

  “I hate all the black, it's too dark in here,” I admit.

  He smiles, “If you stay here much longer, then I'll have your quarters painted pink.”

  I smile at this, “That's alright, but I prefer green.”

  I motion to his shadows, “You must have a lot of power to let me know about the mind thing.”

  The shadows stir and black out the room before I can process the movement. I try to clear them like I did earlier to see anything. They push back, firmly staying in place.

  My eyes are fighting to make out anything. I imagine patterns and shapes but nothing is real. It’s my own imagination.

  I grab my face with my hands and check that my own arms are still attached.

  “I have a few,” his voice comes from everywhere but nowhere at once.

  Am I imagining it? Or did a shadow just caress my cheek?