I don’t know where I find the courage, but I say, “Crimson” at the same time as Xzavic. Then we both laugh.
“So by refusing to kill me, you made an enemy of the powerful Galactic Federation. But you made a friend in me. I figured you’d never get a mile from the Commons.”
“Aye,” Xzavic says. “I had no idea where we’d go or how we’d get there.”
“As to why I’m here, I’ve come to offer you to join me in Plesmore.”
I quickly batten down my relief, although it’s hovering at the edges of my consciousness, waiting to wash over me like warm, summer rain. Instead, I inspect the King’s face. After so much fuckery over the last few days, I want to ensure he’s not messing with us.
“I’m serious,” he says, as if he could read my mind. “Come to Plesmore. You would both be welcome additions to my guard, or you could take up any other form of employment. Until you get on your feet, there’s a small cottage in the forest near the palace. You’re welcome to stay there.”
“Really?” I ask, still skeptical.
“Really,” he says, a kindly smile on his face.
“Shake?” Xzavic asks, remembering the handshake I insisted on our first night together.
After Xzavic shows him how, the king shakes first with him, then me. For the first time in over a hundred hours, I believe I just might have the chance at a full lifespan.