"So they were there but weren't watching?" I say slowly, trying to comprehend.

He shakes his head, "They weren't there at all."

My mouth opens and shuts as I mutter incoherently.

He frowns at me, "Although you must have figured it out after you translated it."

"What?"

"I know that you recorded it on your phone." He says.

"How do you know?" I ask, "And I never got around to translating it."

He cocks his head, "Oh, it meant, 'I'm glad you don't work for me anymore because I'm not allowed to kiss you as your boss.'"

Clenching my jaw I glare at him, "Do you have any idea how inadequate you made me feel?"

"I didn't say anything- I thought you translated my words."

Exasperated, I sigh, "I can't even tell you how many times I was this close to hitting enter and something happened."

I stare at him queerly, "So then you kissed me because you wanted to?" I demand, "Of your own accord."

Poised for his reply, I lean closer.

"We're here! Finally!" yells Annalise, flinging the doors open and bolting outside.

Ruspin lifts me once again, tactfully avoiding my question.

We stand in a densely populated portion of forest. With Annalise and Monty scouring the parameter. If I could cock my head without inducing a dizzy spell I would.

"Hurry up!" hisses Ruspin.

From this vantage point, of looking up at him, I'm given a first tier view of his bulging veins.

"Ease up before you burst something." I singsong.

He glances down at me. "What did you say?" he says in the same gruff tone.

I can't even glance down, because I'm horizontal... it's like he's forcing me to look at his face!

"Uh, never mind."

Swallowing, he says, "I just didn't hear you."

"Oh, I told you to ease up before you blow a gasket."

A hint of a smile graces his lips, leaving me besotted. "I'm not a robot you know."

"Well, I do now." I mutter.

He frowns and I blurt: ''You look like a dried raison when you scrunch your face like that, but when you don't you're like a grape.''

"A grape you say. What gives me such an honourable name?" he asks seriously.

Giggling, I inform him, "You know it's just a comparison right? And besides I'm joking. You look totally hot!" I think I shout it out, because Monty and Annalise stop clattering about to look at us.

Ruspin scowls at them and they return to work, "This is just the residual effects of the sedative."

I shake my head emphatically, "No. I always thought about your hotness. Celeste told me that we'd make adorable babies."

"Ruspin!" exclaims a feminine voice.

Ruspin does not move an inch. Such is the gravity of his attention on me.

Only when the voice becomes a tangible person, standing in front of us does he glance up.

"Mother." He says, genially detached, but his entire face perks up.

"Yay. I'm delirious. I mean Angelica."

« Où est mon grand-filles? » she demands, shifting her attention to Ruspin.

We both look at her confusedly. « Tu as seul un petit-fils. »

« Parfaitement! » she exclaims with a meaning-full look at me.

« Mère! » he says, chastising. "We'll talk about this later, but right now, I need to get her to a bed."

"Getting to work on my request so soon." She says with a smirk.

He scowls, "She's been shot mother."

Instantly, she prances away, presumably leading us to the entrance. "Listening to you two talk French was so draining." I inform Ruspin.

"Don't fall asleep." Is his response.

Suddenly, my view of the sky turns bleak, then white. So I'm like... what?

"Is this an asylum?" I ask.

"No." says Ruspin's mother, "But we can help you get better here."

"Who's we?" I ask, not noticing anyone but our small party.

"Ruspin, my staff, his staff and I." she replies.

"I just want to sleep." I insist.

Ruspin glances at his mother, "Is it safe?"

She nods, "Your friend just needs to be under constant supervision... just in case."

"He doesn't have friends." I inform her. She gives me a queer look and continues walking.

Glancing up at Ruspin, I touch his chest, "Doesn't she know about your 'no friend rule?'" I ask.

"You're not my friend." He says ardently, "So get the idea out of your head."

Even in my alleged drugged state I feel a pang of hurt. Bloody hell, I'm dying and he can't even indulge me for one second!?

"What?" he says.

I refuse to reply.

I can tell when the realization dawns; his chest rubs against me with his sharp intake of breath. "Didn't you get my notes?"

Notes? Notes. Notes!

"They were from you?" I demand hysterically.

Biting his lip, he nods.

"I have no idea how to respond to that." I state.

He detours down a corridor, leaving the others behind and takes me to the door at the end. Inside, is a beautiful room. Designed specifically with a female in mind. But the real gem is the bed. It's big, seems lavish and most importantly has a fluffy blanket.

"If you don't put me on that bed right now, I'm going to kill you." I apprise him, earning a subtle shake of his head.

Maybe it was his intention all along or maybe he's afraid of my threat, but he rests me on the bed gradually. His back must be one bundle of hurt after carrying me for so long. Then, his hand moves towards the blanket, but it's really aiming for something else: the tampon.

With a tug, he yanks it out, and as it scrapes past my charred flesh I yell. I curse him. I don't even notice that he's outfitted me with a proper dressing, until the pain fades.

Looking perturbed he says, "At least I know that the sedative's worn off." I can only assume this is in reference to my screams of pain.

"Why the hell did you do that?" I huff.

"If you had time to consider the pain beforehand, it would have been worse."

"How do you know?"

He stares at me a second, debating whether or not to tell me, "I've had it both ways. I don't want you to experience more pain than in necessary."

Oh, well now I feel like an idiot. "Where were you when this happened?"

He remains silent, and I say, "It's fine if you don't want to tell me, but not answering is just rude. I'd get it if you wanted privacy, because there are things I won't tell you either, but don't be rude about letting me know."

After the silence lingers for a few minutes I declare him a lost cause in the manners department.

Then he replies, "What things won't you tell me."

I frown, "That's all the relevant information you picked out of that statement?"

"I can't see your lips well." He states randomly.

"And how does that have any consequence to this discussion?"

He clears his throat, "I send you those notes as an apology. Do you accept it?"

Well, he really did have no intention of ransoming me off once he realized who I am. He saved my life, brought me to this covert forest house for safekeeping and took the time to envoy thoughtful apology cards to me even whilst I sought refuge with his nemesis. If that isn't deserving of forgiveness, I'm not sure what is. So I say, "Yes, I forgive you Ruspin."

My response is a radiant smile that lights up the room, causing me to grin back at him. "If you smiled like that more often, you'd have even more hordes of women chasing after you."

"That is why I don't." he says.

"Well you can smile with me; there isn't a chance of me chasing you."

He lowers his head slightly, "I know."

As I try to manoeuvre myself into a more comfortable position, pain ricochets from my belly. "Shit!"

Ruspin winces and clenches his fists, "Try to remain still."

A knock cuts off my reply, Monty sticks his head into the room, alerting Ruspin to his presence. "Sir, the bullet we extracted from her-" he breaks off nervously, looking petrified to the point of throwing up.

Ruspin jumps to his feet in a swift action, practically personifying rage.

"Who was it registered to?" he demands, marching closer to Monty.

Monty takes a shaky breath, his palms twitching. His pain engulfed face, doused with perspiration, turns to me, "It was mine."

Maybe if he'd kept his attention directed to Ruspin he could have blocked the groin kick that sends him to his knees. Annalise bursts through the door vainly attempting to dislodge the volatile Ruspin. He showers Monty with jabs and elbows, and the damage is not just confined to his face. Chest, back, anywhere he can land a hit.

Sadly, I was shot on my right-side, so my good throwing hand is null and void but thankfully I have my lefty. Grabbing first thing to touch my fingers: a nice heavy bottle of body lotion, I pelt it at Ruspin.

Ruspin stops pounding Monty to scowl up at me, "Is there a problem?" he asks in a ragged breath.

"Actually, yes." I tell him, "You're beating the hell out of your best friend."

A growl emanates, "He f^@#ing shot you." then he realizes the next part of my statement, "I don't have friends."

"Shut the hell up you barbarian." I command, "I don't get why the idea of 'forever alone and sulky' is so appealing to you, but whether or not you like it you have friend and if you don't have those, you definitely have tes aimes. Now Annalise, remove him from my sight and Monty, you stay here with me."

Ruspin seethes, "He shot you."

"By mistake!" I exclaim exasperatedly.

"You are not staying here with him." he hisses.

"Fine, then I'll find somewhere else to stay." I snap, swinging my legs off the bed. "If you don't leave right now, I will." I threaten.

With a mighty huff, he turns on his heel and marches stoically out of the room.

I turn to Monty, who's face is a kaleidoscope of colour, "So, are we gonna share this bed or what?"

He literally falls off.

"I was joking." I say, giggling.

He sits up with a wince of pain, his diamond earing winks at me. "Why aren't you mad?"

Shrugging, I settle back onto my fluffed pillows, "Was it your intention to shoot me? No, right? You were aiming at someone who is your friend's enemy and you missed. Did you know that less than ten percent of bullets fired under duress at a moving target actually reach their mark? It was a mistake and I understand. Ruspin is just being his irrationally perfectionist self by not understanding."

Monty remains silent for no more than a beat, "I understand why he's mad. If it were anyone else he would have been lenient... but never with you."

"What does that mean?"

He glances away nervously, "Never mind."

"Oh, OK." I mutter, "Can you help me pull up these blankets please?"

Pulling up the blanket and tucking it in at the sides, just like my mother never did, he whispers, "I'm so sorry."

"I know. It'll be fine."

He shrugs, "How are things with you and Kalvin?"

"What are you really asking?" I say, looking at him intently.

"I just want to know more about you since you seem like a, what would Ruspin call it? Right: 'fixed asset.'"

Why does everyone refer to me as a piece of property? I consider calling him out on it, but I'm too tired to make the effort. "Well, we aren't really anything." I say, not sounding too depressed about it if I do say so myself. "We don't talk, I don't think he wants to kill me anymore, we're just different."

Laying there, on the soft comfy bed, I feel suddenly wide awake. Like throwing that cream at Ruspin gave me such a jolt of adrenalin that I just can't get to sleep. I just feel... icky. You know that feeling when you've touched something that you don't like, for example a cockroach, and there's no water nearby. You're so uncomfortable in your skin that you just want to claw it off.

"You're my best friend." I plead.

"But you were never mine." He says viciously.

"You're not my friend." He says ardently, "So get the idea out of your head."

I draw a hard breath, determined not to let it bother me.

"Am I lacking in some way?" I ask, Monty. Sure, he isn't exactly ideal, but right now, he's the only one here.

He struggles, "I can't-"

"Forget it." I say, "I want to bathe."

"Ruspin won't be pleased, you need to recover first."

"Well, Ruspin isn't here and I'm going to take my clothes off and have a bath and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He looks panicked, then grabs my arm and helps me sit up, "Fine, I'll help you then."

When he moves closer, I freak out. "Don't touch me." my kick sends him directly into his chair.

"I've already seen them." he says softly.

"Ruspin knows?"

He shakes his head 'no.'

"How do you know?"

He swallows, "When you jumped onto my speed boat, with the wind, your shirt..."

He doesn't need to say anymore. I wonder why I even care if Ruspin had seen. But then things with him are never clear.

After a moment's contemplation, I say, "Okay, let's go."



Thankfully, I didn't slip. The entire situation was awkward, but Monty never looked, and I feel so much better, as I wrap the towel around me. Monty watches my movements like a hawk, assuring me that Ruspin will never allow anything to happen to me. Strangely though, I find that Ruspin isn't here.

I end up just slipping on a robe, since Monty was frantically distressed by the mere thought of me losing my balance while changing and reopening my wound.

Monty hovers beside me, "Do you need anything?"

Squinting at him in the darkness, I wonder if he'll even consider my request. "Can you sit with me until I fall asleep? It's easier with someone nearby. Usually Cage comes, but he's not here..."

He perches next to me, so that our arms touch. "How did you get them?"

Weakness hits. I've never said the words before, not even to Cage, we had an understanding; never talk about it. But we were always there for each other in the aftermath, to offer comfort. "The king and I clashed a lot. Disagreeing with him was ten lashes, perceived disrespect was double."

"Ruspin saved me from slavery." He says softly. My breath halts, "I was actually supposed to come to your castle, but he intercepted my shipment. I've stayed by his side to repay him for all that he's done for me. I shot you. You. Of all people. I'm not even supposed to think this in your presence, but Ruspin likes you. You don't tolerate him. You fight him... and through his bravado, he enjoys it, because no-one else dares."

Reaching out, I touch his hand. My sluggish mind working at minimum speed, processing how close we could have been, and how much he understands. "You won't tell Ruspin, will you?" he asks hesitantly.

Squeezing his hand, I reply, "I promise."

The door opens and Ruspin stands there with a feral expression on his face.

"What is going on here?"

"I'm took a bath." I inform him, wondering whether or not he was standing there the entire time.

"With him?"

I scrunch my face at what he's insinuating, "Eww, no." Although, I say it just to keep Monty away from the heat. The idea isn't entirely distasteful.

Ruspin frowns, "Then you don't find him attractive."

"You're being irrelevant."

"I would have helped you bathe." He says.

"No!" the thought of him seeing me that way... I can never allow that to happen.

"I wouldn't have taken advantage." He says, equal parts desperation and anger.

"Then Annalise." He says, his voice sounding strangely defeated.

I shake my head vigorously.

"My mother then?"

Even worse.

"I just wanted to be alone."

He sighs, "Alone with Monty."

Our uncomfortable silence is broken by Monty's parting statement, "Well, good luck to you, boss."

"You can tell me what the real problem is now." Says Ruspin.

"Is it hard to believe that I want some me time?"

"It is when you and Monty are conducting an illicit affair under my nose."

Sighing, I let my posture slouch. Back at the castle, my mother would've reported it to my father, who would make me sit in a back brace for the rest of the day. After a beating of course. "I'm not the prettiest person. I was doing you a favour."

"You said that exact same thing when I told you to wear a bathing suit." He mutters.

"And Monty and I aren't having an affair."

His gaze snaps up to meet mine, "So you're together then."

"No! We're most definitely not engaging in any romantic activity of any manner-" I think I hear him mutter, 'good,' before my mouth is doused by his and suddenly I'm falling off a cliff once more, but in a drastically different way. This time, I have his lips to cushion my fall.

Mere seconds later, he retracts himself.

"Do you still think you're not pretty?"

I know he wants me to say no, and I hate to disappoint him, so I instead say, "Why do you keep kissing me?"

In the dimness I think I see him flush, "I like you." he stares at me, noting my reaction, "I must be doing something wrong if you didn't notice."

"Like, as in a romantic way." I say, almost to myself.

"Do you like me?" my heart literally drops at his vulnerable tone.

What do I do? He makes it so hard. "I-It doesn't matter how I feel, because, once you see the r-re-real me, you won't ca-care."

Ruspin doesn't say a word, he only moves closer to me then... he hugs me. I swear it's the best hug of my life. Either due to the timing, the unexpectedness or my general need for any type of comfort; the hug is life changing.

"Did something happen?" he asks softly from behind my hair.

"You're talkative." I comment evasively.

"It's very taxing on my black heart." He says, "But you're avoiding."

"Bellamy." I say, "He told me that we were never friends. Then you..."

Heaving a sigh, he says, "I can't ever think of you as my friend."

"Why not?"

"Michelangelo was my friend." He gives a rueful shake of his head, "I like you and I can't call you my friend." Cue thoughtful silence, « Copine »

"Is that another word for it?" I ask, trying to muster the courage to hug him back. I force my hands, which are millimetres from his abdomen to move closer, but then I remember he doesn't like touching. But it must be okay, since he hugged me first. Taking the leap, I hug him back, eliciting a groan.

"It means girlfriend."

Stiffening, I consider the pros and cons of pulling out of this hug. "I mean what I said to you, back in the van, about not being able to love that way."

Trailing up my neck, his hand finally nestles onto my jaw. "I know." He says, "I never said love."

"I can't do it."

"Do you still love Kalvin?" he asks tentatively.

"No."

"I kissed you on that plane because in that moment I was consumed by a foreign passion. A passion that I never thought I would feel, much less want to embrace." Says Ruspin, who has manoeuvred his lips to the spot right beside my ear, "In that moment I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who I- I wanted it to be you."