“If you agree to the mission, I won’t be the one helping you. You’ll be the one helping me.” I stared at him, my humor vanishing, my pulse striking faster in my veins. “I am the one who needs you.” He said it like a grave confession. “I am the one who suggested the plan to His Majesty, who is responsible for organizing this mission. Without you, I will fail.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, unsure what to make of this. Of anything. Plenty of people had made it clear how much they wanted me: my face, my beauty, my company. But nobody had ever really needed me before.
