CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The murmurs of the crowd were growing louder now. One question, repeated over and over: How did this happen?
Only Tem knew the truth.
“We were meant to meet up tonight,” Vera whispered. “I think he wanted to get back together.”
It was just like Vera to find a way to make such a horrific moment about her. But Tem had far more pressing things to worry about.
I only wish to protect you , Caspen had said.
Now it was Tem who wished to protect Caspen. The villagers would not forgive such an act of violence against one of their own. The royals wouldn’t either. The consequences of Caspen’s actions would reverberate far beyond simply settling a score in Tem’s honor. It was a violation of the truce struck centuries ago, and it would not go unpunished.
Caspen had been inside her mind all day. When did he have time to do this? Tem replayed the day hour by hour, thinking about their connection. There hadn’t been a moment when he wasn’t with her. The only time they hadn’t been communicating was when they were asleep last night in his chambers.
Tem paused. She’d been asleep.
There was no way to know whether Caspen had stayed with her the entire night. She’d been so exhausted from the sex that she hadn’t woken up once. He could have easily slipped out under the cover of darkness to kill Jonathan and Christopher before returning to her. Tem thought about the fleck of blood on his temple. She’d assumed it was hers.
“What do you think will happen tonight?” Vera’s whisper broke her from her thoughts.
The first night of the festival was always a wild one: the villagers usually drank mead and danced in the town square until dawn. But there would be no dancing tonight. People were already retreating to their homes and locking the doors behind them.
Tem shook her head. “I don’t know.”
All she knew was that she needed to talk to Caspen. She reached for their connection, feeling for the door that joined the corridor between their minds.
But it was shut.
Tem shouldn’t have been surprised. Surely Caspen was deep beneath the mountain, surrounded by his own kind. She wondered if the other basilisks knew what he’d done. Or worse, if they’d sanctioned it.
“Tem,” her mother was suddenly beside her. “We’re going home.”
Before Tem could protest, she was already steering her away.
They walked in silence. Her mother stared purposefully ahead, her hands clasped at her sides. She didn’t seem afraid. Rather, it was as if she were preparing herself for something imminent: something she’d expected for a long time.
“Mother?” Tem asked quietly.
“Yes?”
“Is there any way to bring them back?”
Her mother shook her head.
“No, my dear. They are petrified. It is permanent.”
“But if there was some magic—some way to reverse—”
“You cannot reverse death, Tem. Their souls have gone to Kora.”
Neither of them said a word the rest of the way home.
Tem planned to sneak out to see Caspen when her mother went to bed. But her mother sat awake in the kitchen until well past midnight, and Tem ran out of excuses to sit up with her. Eventually, she had no choice but to retreat to her bedroom and stare at the ceiling. Hours passed. Her mother never went to bed. By the time Tem finally drifted off, the roosters were starting to crow. She awoke in the same position she’d fallen asleep in.
Her mother was still in the kitchen when she emerged. Before either of them could speak, there was a knock at the door. A footman handed Tem a letter.
Temperance Verus,
Tonight’s event will proceed as planned.
Kindly be ready at 8:00 p.m.
Tem turned it over, surprised at the twist of disappointment she felt when she saw that there was no additional note scrawled in red ink this time.
Then she remembered what tonight’s event was.
Seven girls were left: they were halfway through the elimination process. At this point in the competition, it was tradition to host the girls and their teachers at the castle to give the prince an opportunity to fine-tune their training. It meant that Tem was about to be judged on her progress.
It also meant that Caspen was going to meet Leo.
Tem’s stomach performed an uncomfortable flip at the thought. She couldn’t imagine a stranger duo: the formidable basilisk, and the human prince. Both powerful in their own right. Both couldn’t be more different.
Tem didn’t bother trying to check in with Caspen through their connection. He hadn’t answered her all night, and she doubted he would start now. Instead she helped her mother with the farm work, feeling more miserable by the hour.
Jonathan and Christopher were dead because of Tem.
There was no way around it—no way to spin the situation to make it anyone’s fault but her own. She should have tried harder to dissuade Caspen. She should have tried at all. But Tem knew in her gut that Caspen would not have been dissuaded. He was possessive, uncompromising, and he considered her to be his . There was nothing she could have done to prevent this.
Two packages arrived for her this time.
Neither package contained a note, but Tem knew immediately when she unwrapped them who had sent which dress. Caspen’s was green; Leo’s was red. Caspen’s had a drape to it that would lay beautifully on her waist. Leo’s had a slit up the side—a clear nod to the dress she’d worn for the Frisky Sixty. She knew which one she wanted to wear.
And yet, she hesitated.
Both Caspen and Leo would be attending the event at the castle. Both would see immediately whose dress she had chosen. Tem felt a sudden stab of annoyance. Why had they both sent her something to wear? Why were they forcing her to choose? It wasn’t fair.
She stared down at the dresses, willing one of them to disappear. When neither did, she decided to take matters into her own hands.
“Mother?”
Her mother looked up from the stove.
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you have a dress I can wear for tonight?”
Her mother frowned.
“I thought…” her eyes flicked to Tem’s bedroom, where the dresses were still laid out on the bed.
“Those don’t fit,” she said bluntly. It was half true. They didn’t fit Tem’s needs.
Her mother pursed her lips before nodding.
“Let me see,” she said.
Tem followed her into the master bedroom, her eyes going immediately to the bottle of salt spray on her dresser. She touched the clear glass, remembering how Caspen had said she smelled like the sea. Her mother rustled through her closet, pulling out two dresses and holding them up. One was brown; that wouldn’t do at all. Tem’s eyes immediately went to the other.
It was white, and it was linen, and it was wildly inappropriate for a formal event at the castle. But it was good enough for her mother, so it was good enough for Tem.
“That one,” she said.
Her mother handed her the dress.
Tem kept the claw inside her and the gold chain around her neck. By the time the carriage arrived to take her to the castle, she still hadn’t heard from Caspen. It was difficult not to resent his absence.
“Miss?” the carriage door opened, and a footman extended his hand. “We’ve arrived.”
Tem allowed herself to be steered into the castle.
The ballroom was just as it always was: sparkling with gold and filled with people. Tem scanned the crowd for Caspen, but he wasn’t there yet. Before she had time to wonder when he would arrive, she felt a hand on her arm. It was Gabriel.
“Going for a casual look tonight, are we?” he kissed her cheek. “I like it.”
“You’re probably the only one.”
“Please, Tem. If the prince doesn’t want you in linen he doesn’t deserve you insilk.”
Tem grinned. He was right.
“Do you know when the basilisks will be here?” she asked.
Gabriel shrugged. “Any minute now.”
Tem scanned the room again, this time looking for Leo. She spotted him immediately, leaning against a marble column like he always was. Maximus was by his side, saying something in his ear. They both looked worried. Tem could imagine why.
No doubt the violation of the truce weighed heavily on the royals’ minds. It was no coincidence that the basilisks were coming to the castle tonight. Surely the royals intended to control the situation—to assert their dominance in a public setting.
Help.
Tem froze.
The events of the last few days had been so overwhelming that she hadn’t thought about the voice even once. But now that Tem was once more in the castle, everything came back to her in an arresting wave. She had promised herself that the next time she was here, she would find the voice. Tem turned to Gabriel, ready to excuse herself. Before she could say a word, he nudged her and whispered:
“Showtime.”
The basilisks had arrived.
The entire ballroom fell silent as the seven snakes entered. Their effortless grace was mesmerizing: they could have been gliding on ice.
“So,” Gabriel whispered. “Which one’s yours?”
All of the basilisks were objectively beautiful. But Caspen was on another level.
He stood half a foot taller than the others, his gold eyes appraising his surroundings with barely masked disdain. Wherever he moved, the crowd parted for him like water.
Tem simply pointed.
“ That’s Caspen?” Gabriel hissed.
“Yes.”
“You little liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“You little liar , Tem. You failed to mention that he was a perfect specimen of a man.”
“He’s not a man.”
“Trust me, Tem. That’s a man.”
Tem rolled her eyes. “Would you please behave? This is hard enough without you gawking at him like he’s some kind of deity.”
“Have you seen him? He is some kind of deity.”
“For Kora’s sake.”
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful man.”
Tem sighed. Neither had she.
“I can’t believe you get to have sex with him.”
Tem sighed again. Neither could she.
The tinny sound of clinking glass cut through her thoughts:
“Attention, everyone,” Maximus was walking to the center of the room, his voice just as deep as Tem remembered it. Leo remained by the column, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. When he met Tem’s eye, he winked.
Gabriel followed her gaze. “Did the prince just wink at you?”
Tem shoved him. “He did not.”
“You should wink back.”
“I’d rather die.”
Gabriel squinted. “He’s got quite the jawline, hasn’t he?”
“No,” Tem hissed through gritted teeth. “He doesn’t.”
“Oh, please, Tem. I know jawlines, and that’s a jawline.”
Gabriel waggled his fingers coquettishly at Leo, who raised a bewildered eyebrow.
Tem smacked his hand down. “ Fine , he has a nice jawline.”
“Probably has other nice bits too.”
Tem had nothing to say to that. The king was still speaking:
“It is with great honor and privilege that we welcome our guests here tonight. My son and I are most grateful for their services.”
Maximus’s wording wasn’t accidental. Tem suddenly remembered their conversation in the parlor:
They provide a service. Their place is beneath us.
The king was minimizing the basilisks—reducing them to their roles as teachers. His speech was a warning: a way to remind them that the royals held the pow?er. But did they? The mirrored wall was useless. The villagers lived once more in fear of the monsters beneath the mountain. If there was peace to be had, it was no longer guaranteed. If it ever was.
Tem watched a muscle in Caspen’s jaw twitch as Maximus continued:
“The elimination process is a time-honored tradition. It ensures that my son?—” the king’s eyes flicked briefly over to Leo, “—makes the right choice. And perhaps more importantly, it ensures that the balance of our kingdom remains intact.”
Should the snakes ever question their place, the balance may falter .
“If you would raise your glasses,” Maximus raised his, along with everyone else in the room. “I’d like to make a toast.”
Gabriel took Tem’s hand and raised it ironically, as if it were a glass. Maximus paused before speaking, and his eyes ultimately settled on Tem’s as he said:
“To making the right choice.”
Everyone but Leo downed their drink.
Gabriel pressed his lips to Tem’s fingers before dropping her hand.
“Well, I’m off. See you in a bit?”
“Sure,” Tem said. “See you.”
Gabriel disappeared.
Before she was ready for him, Caspen was in front of her.
“Tem,” he said, his voice an eager murmur.
It had only been a day since they’d parted, but it felt like a lifetime to Tem. She wondered whether it felt the same for him, or if she’d slipped from his mind as easily as a snuffed-out candle.
“Caspen,” she said back, his name barely making it past the lump in her throat. “How are you?”
It seemed like a stupid thing to ask. But she had no idea what else to say to him, especially considering their circumstances.
“I am well. And yourself?”
She could only nod. It felt like something was compressing her lungs, making it impossible to breathe.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, please,” she managed. He disappeared, reappearing a moment later with a delicate flute of champagne.
He held it out to her.
“I hate champagne.”
Caspen smiled, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not know.”
“Well. Now you do.”
His smile widened.
“What would you prefer to drink, Tem?”
“Whiskey.”
She didn’t know why she’d said it. But for some reason, in that moment, she’d thought of Leo. Caspen disappeared again, and when he reappeared, he handed her a whiskey.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
He stepped closer.
“You are not wearing the dress I sent.”
Not a question. Simply a statement.
“The prince sent me one too.”
Caspen tilted his head. She couldn’t read his expression.
“I see,” he said quietly. “And you could not choose.”
Another statement.
“I could ,” Tem clarified. “But I didn’t want to.”
“I see,” he said again, his eyes traveling over her body, taking in the humble white linen. In the silence, Tem felt her heart hammer in her chest. She needed to ask Caspen about Jonathan and Christopher—needed to hear the confession straight from his lips. But there was one issue that was more pressing.
“I’ve been hearing a voice,” she said before she could stop herself. Caspen’s eyes snapped back to hers. He frowned.
“A voice?”
“Yes. In the castle. Well, in my head. But it’s coming from the castle.”
Tem figured this announcement would be met with confusion, or at least incredulity. Instead, Caspen looked over his shoulder, as if to ensure no one else was listening. He stepped closer.
“We cannot discuss this here.”
His response bewildered her. She’d expected him to ask some clarifying questions—or any questions at all. His lack of surprise could only mean one thing:
“Can you hear it too?”
He pursed his lips, but didn’t reply. Now Tem was the one to step closer.
“If you can hear it, then you know it’s asking for help.”
“I said I will not discuss this here.”
It was all too much. She was so tired of Caspen withholding information fromher.
“ Excuse me? There has to be something we can—”
But Caspen cut her off:
“ I will not discuss this here .”
Tem stepped back, her eyes stinging with tears. Despite his harsh command, Caspen didn’t look angry. On the contrary, he seemed almost sad. When he spoke again, his voice was soft:
“Tell me, Tem. What is your opinion of the prince?”
Tem could feel her palms start to sweat. Why was Caspen asking her this? Was he jealous? Or was he simply checking in on his student?
“He’s…” she paused, her eyes searching the crowd for Leo. He was slipping through a doorway at the far end of the ballroom, flanked by a girl on one side and a basilisk on the other. One of the seven private meetings he would be conducting tonight.
Tem shook her head, attempting to focus.
“He’s a royal. They’re all the same.”
Caspen leaned in.
“Does he favor you?”
A direct question. One she couldn’t avoid.She answered it honestly:
“Yes. I think so.”
Caspen’s eyes narrowed.
A sharp throb shot through the claw. It was so intense that Tem gasped, her hand shooting between her legs in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Unlike the gentle, aching pulses Caspen usually sent her, this one was so jarring she knew it was not meant for pleasure.
Tem looked up at him in shock. “That hurt .”
Regret flashed over Caspen’s face. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Tem was already turning away. Caspen grabbed her arm.
“Where are you going?”
“To take it out,” Tem snapped.
“ No ,” he cried. She had never heard him so desperate. “Tem, I—”
“How dare you?” she hissed.“How dare you use it to cause me pain? I put it in because I trust you.”
Caspen’s face was a dark mask of remorse.
“I did not mean to hurt you.”
“You never do.”
“I reacted, and—”
“ You’re the one who trained me for him.”
Caspen stared down at her. His eyes went hard.
“I am well aware of that, Tem.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
His hand slid slowly down her arm until his fingers were just brushing hers. Tem was distinctly aware of the way they were standing together, sequestered alone at the edge of the ballroom. The claw pulsed softly.
“Everything.”
Tem shook her head.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t mean it.”
“Of course I—”
“If you wanted me, you would let me in. But you don’t. You never have. You keep secrets from me—you never give me a straight answer—you silence me.”
“You cannot be silenced, Tem. That much is very clear.”
“Did you kill Jonathan and Christopher?”
Caspen lifted his chin, looking down at her.
“Of course I did.”
“I told you I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“And I told you some things do not concern you.”
“Loss of human life concerns me.”
“Their lives were hardly a loss .”
The pulse quickened. They were arguing, but he was turning her on.
“Stop that,” she demanded.
“Why?”
“It isn’t fair,” she insisted. “I have no way to retaliate.”
“You speak as if we are at war.”
“It feels as if we are.”
The pulses stopped. She hated how much she missed them.
Caspen leaned in, his eyes holding hers.
“It is not my wish to wound you, Tem.”
“Then what is your wish?”
The crowd seemed to disappear around them.
“To prepare you.”
“For what?”
The pulse returned, gently this time, throbbing rhythmically against her underclothing. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. They were still closed when she heard Caspen whisper:
“For what comes.”
When Tem opened her eyes, they were no longer alone.
Another basilisk stood beside Caspen. This one had black hair that brushed his shoulders and cheekbones so sharp they reflected the light. He was several inches shorter than Caspen, with the same rigid posture. He appraised Tem with clear contempt.
“So, Caspenon,” he said, still looking at Tem. “This is your student.”
Something about the way he said ‘student’ made it clear he meant it as an insult.
“Her name is Temperance,” Caspen said, his voice purposefully even. Tem recognized his tone: it was the one he used when he was attempting to restrain his anger.
“ Temperance ,” the basilisk said slowly, tilting his head to get a better view of her. “Interesting.”
“And you are?” Tem asked before she could help herself.
The basilisk blinked, as if surprised she was addressing him directly.
“I am Rowe Seneca.”
“Interesting.”
Rowe is dangerous. Do not anger him.
Tem nearly jumped as Caspen’s voice returned to her mind.
Why not?
But he was already gone again.
Rowe’s gaze fell to the golden claw around her neck. A cross between disbelief and rage flashed over his face. He looked at Caspen.
“Tell me that is not what I think it is.”
Caspen tensed.
“That is none of your concern.”
Rowe stepped closer, and Caspen’s hand darted to Tem’s waist. Rowe’s eyes followed the movement with disgust.
“You are a disgrace to your quiver,” he snarled.
Caspen’s grip only tightened. “And you are a burden on yours.”
Rowe let out a bitter laugh.
“Better a burden than a traitor.”
The ballroom seemed to shrink as Caspen leaned forward, his face mere inch?es from Rowe’s.
“Remember your place. Or I shall remind you of it.”
Rowe stared up at him in defiance, but Tem didn’t miss the unmistakable flash of fear in his eyes. An endless moment passed as the two basilisks glared at each other. Tem didn’t dare break the silence. It was clear there was history here, but she had no idea what it could be. She remembered what Caspen had told her about basilisks: how their quivers were like their clans. Rowe was from another quiver—perhaps one that had tension with Caspen’s. She couldn’t begin to imagine the political climate of the basilisks. Surely, it was even more complicated than the royals.
They were still standing in silence when Vera appeared.
“Run out of dresses, Tem?” she chirped.
Her voice snapped the basilisks from their stalemate. Rowe turned to Vera.
“I told you to wait for me until the prince called us in.”
Tem raised her eyebrows. Rowe was Vera’s basilisk.
Vera’s eyes went jealously to Caspen’s hand, which was still on Tem’s waist. She touched Rowe’s arm in an imitation of the gesture.
“I know, but I—”
He brushed her off.
“Leave us,” he barked.
Vera’s face pinched. It was a dismissal, and not a kind one. For a moment, it seemed like she might protest. But one glance at Rowe’s face seemed to change her mind. With a final, dissatisfied huff, she flounced away. Rowe turned back to Caspen, continuing as if Vera were never there:
“I should rip that from her neck,” he pointed at Tem’s necklace.
Caspen immediately angled himself so that he was between her and Rowe, his body acting as a shield.
“Only if you wish to lose your hand.”
“The way you protect her…” Rowe’s nostrils flared. “… disgusting .”
“Say one more word,” Caspen hissed, and Tem felt a chill rush down her spine. “And you will join your father.”
Horror flared in Rowe’s eyes, followed by pure, unfiltered loathing.
Then he turned, and was gone.
Tem looked up at Caspen. He was staring after Rowe, his jaw locked. She had so many questions, but she was sure he wouldn’t answer any of them. Before she could decide where to begin, a butler appeared beside her:
“His Highness will see you now.”
There was no time to decompress after what just happened. The butler was already ushering them through the crowd, toward the doorway at the end of the ballroom. Tem felt a sudden prick of fear. Not only was Caspen about to be face to face with Leo, but he was already angry. There was no telling what he might do if provoked. Leo wasn’t exactly a peacemaker; he was even more prone to disruption than Tem was. The butler opened the door.
There stood Leo.