Split or Swallow

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Leo’s lanky frame was leaning casually against the bar, his eyebrows arched in preemptive amusement.

“ What are you doing here? ” Tem hissed.

“Buying you a drink. I thought that was obvious.”

“You can’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Leo,” she grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the door. “Get out.”

“You know I love it when you order me around,” his hands wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her back. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to disobey.”

Leo corralled Tem easily, pressing her body against the bar with his. She tried to elbow him but it was no use. He had her pinned.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

“ By the way? Is my beauty an afterthought?”

Leo’s cheeks cracked into a smile.

“So difficult to please.”

Tem was still trying to wrestle herself away from him. “You’ve always been terrible at compliments.”

“If you say so.”

“How did you know where to find me, anyway?” she snapped.

“It’s a small village, Tem. I asked the first person I saw.”

“Remind me to kill them.”

“And be an accomplice to murder? Unlikely.”

She glared up at him, but he only smiled wider.

“You’re gorgeous when you’re angry,” he purred.

“I’m gorgeous all the time. Now tell me what you’re doing here.”

A pause. Leo’s smile faltered.

“I’m afraid my father and I had a…disagreement.”

“What kind of disagreement?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“I’d rather you did.”

“Your friend is waiting, Tem. Shouldn’t you introduce me?”

“Shouldn’t you go somewhere else?”

“I chose to come here.”

“But why? ”

Another pause. Then:

“I wanted to see you.”

Tem sighed. Leo always wanted to see her. But did she want to see him? It wasn’t exactly convenient timing; she was about to confide in Gabriel. That would now have to wait. There was no doubt that her kiss with Leo had awakened something in Tem—something she was willing to explore. And from the way the prince was holding her, she knew he wouldn’t leave no matter what she said.

“ Kora ,” she relented finally. “But you’re paying for every round, not just the next one.”

Leo grinned. “Naturally.”

Tem rolled her eyes, and with one final shove, disentangled herself from his arms.

“Whiskey,” she said simply. Then she left him at the bar and huffed into the booth next to Gabriel, who asked:

“Is that who I think it is?”

“Yes,” snapped Tem.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“He had a fight with his father.”

“Daddy issues,” Gabriel said knowingly. “Sexy.”

“Just shut up and enjoy your free drinks.”

Gabriel was still smiling when Leo returned to the table and handed them each a whiskey.

“Thanks…your Highness.”

Leo laughed. “Please. Call me Leo.”

“Call me Gabriel.”

“I certainly shall.”

“What’s with the hardware?” Gabriel pointed at Leo’s mouth, where his gold teeth glinted in the dim light of the bar.

Tem elbowed Gabriel. But Leo only smiled wider, showing the full extent of the metal.

“They’re traditional,” Leo answered. “The men in my family get them when we turn eighteen, among other gifts.”

“Not the women?”

He shrugged. “The women get gold in other forms. Jewelry, usually.”

“Must be nice to be able to afford gold.”

“ Gabriel ,” Tem said. Leo touched her leg, halting her protest.

“It is nice,” he said carefully. “But I don’t pretend to have earned it.”

“Hm,” Gabriel glanced at Tem. “I like him.”

“That makes one of us.”

Leo grinned at her. “Your opinion of me is more favorable than you let on.”

Tem rolled her eyes. “And how do you know that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? You let me stay.”

“You were a damsel in distress. I had to.”

“You chose to, and I am very grateful.”

Tem rolled her eyes again. His hand was still on her thigh.

“Don’t get used to it,” she whispered.

He smiled again, flashing those gold teeth.

“I certainly won’t.”

Gabriel leaned forward. “ My opinion is very favorable, if it helps.”

Tem kicked him under the table. “It doesn’t.”

Leo shot him a wink. “It does , thank you.”

Tem kicked him too.

By the time the Horseman was shutting down, Leo had paid for four more rounds and Tem was having trouble seeing straight. Gabriel was no better off. He kept throwing his arms around Tem and Leo, declaring that he would be the best man at their wedding.

“We’d be honored,” Leo said every time.

“That would require a wedding,” Tem said every time too.

Leo only laughed.

They left the bar together, all linking arms. Gabriel extracted himself with some difficulty before saluting them with a flourish.

“It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen.”

“I’m a lady,” Tem said.

“Barely.”

She smacked his chest.

Leo held her back. “That’s our best man you’re accosting.”

“ That would require a wedding ,” Tem insisted.

In response, Leo pressed his lips to her cheek.

“Get a room ,” Gabriel crooned, wiggling his fingers at them before disappearing into the darkness.

“I intend to,” Leo said against her ear. Before Tem could smack him too, another voice cut through the air:

“ Thelonius .”

They both turned.

There, mounted on a horse whose shiny white coat was completely at odds with the dismal grime of the street, was Maximus.

Leo immediately threw his arm in front of Tem, pushing her behind him as the king dismounted. He strode toward them with fury in his eyes, his gaze flicking first to Tem, then back to Leo.

“Running away is for children,” Maximus said. “I expected more from you.”

Leo lifted his chin in defiance.

“You remind me of my youth every day. It shouldn’t surprise you when I act my age.”

“Enough. You will return with me now.”

“I don’t think so.”

Maximus looked once again at Tem.

“Is this what drew you away? The chicken girl?”

Tem opened her mouth but Leo was already defending her:

“Her name is Temperance. You might want to learn it, considering she’s going to be my wife.”

“I will take away your title before I let you choose her.”

“And crown Lilly king? That’s rather progressive of you. I didn’t realize you’d changed your stance on women in leadership. Mother would be so proud.”

“Enough.”

But Leo wasn’t done.

“I will make my own choice, father. There’s nothing you can—”

“ Enough ,” the king spat out. “ You will return with me now .”

Leo went completely rigid, his fingers twisting tightly in the fabric of Tem’s dress, still holding her behind him. His next words were so quiet—so deadly —that Tem felt a chill go down her spine as he said:

“I will return when I fucking well feel like it.”

Something dangerous glimmered in Maximus’s eyes. He stepped forward—just a single step—to say:

“Ignorant boy. You will face consequences for this.”

Leo stood his ground.

“Then I will face them with my wife.”

Father and son stared at each other.

After an endless moment, Maximus turned, mounted his horse, and was gone.

They stood alone in the street, Leo’s gaze locked on his father’s retreating form. Tem placed her palm tentatively between his shoulder blades, feeling the tension in his body.

On a whim, she said:

“Take me somewhere, Leo.”

He turned slowly to face her.

“Where shall I take you, Tem?”

“I don’t know. Impress me.”

Leo tilted his head, considering her request.

“Very well.”

He held out his hand. Tem took it.

They wound through the streets together, heading toward the church. When they reached it, they didn’t walk up the steps, like Tem figured they would. Instead Leo took her around the back, where a sprawling graveyard stretched to the top of a sloping hill. She nudged his shoulder.

“Are you planning to kill me?”

A small smile.

“Not tonight, Tem.”

They walked slowly amongst the graves. For once, Tem was content to let Leo lead. He seemed to know where he was going, although she couldn’t imagine who would be buried here. His mother, the queen, was the only person in his immediate family who was dead. Surely the royals had their own crypts deep beneath the castle. There would be no reason to bury the queen amongst the villagers.

Eventually, they stopped. But not at a grave.

Instead they had ascended the hill overlooking the graveyard, where a bench sat beneath a drooping willow tree. Leo’s gaze was trained on the trunk. Tem squinted to see what he was looking at. Two letters were carved into the whorled wood:

E + L.

Something tugged at Tem’s heart.

“‘E’ and ‘L’?” Tem whispered, although she already knew.

Leo stared at the tree, his eyes unfocused.

“Evelyn and Leo,” he whispered back.

Evelyn was not a mistake.

“Who was she?”

“She was…important to me.”

Tem squeezed his hand.

“What happened to her?”

Leo’s jaw tightened. He turned to face Tem.

“A prince is allowed to bed whoever he likes before the training. It’s encouraged, actually—the more the better. But relationships are forbidden. I’m supposed to save commitment for my wife. So when I met Evelyn, I figured she would just be another girl in my bed. But she wasn’t. She was…” he paused, and Tem could see the pain in his eyes. “…everything.”

A long moment passed before he spoke again:

“We used to meet there—” he gestured at the bench, “—to talk for hours. I’d never talked to anyone like that before. In the castle, everyone talks at me. Evelyn talked to me. And she listened. I think that’s why I fell in love with her. Then my father found out.”

The tug on Tem’s heart intensified.

“What did he do?” she asked despite herself.

“He didn’t approve. He never does. Evelyn came from a family of fishermen. Her parents were dead; her aunt had raised her. She was a year older than me, so she wasn’t eligible for the training. He told me I had to end it.”

“And did you?”

“No,” Leo said simply. “I didn’t.”

Tem turned that information over in her mind. Leo had courted a girl—a girl his father didn’t approve of—a girl just like Tem. She understood now why Maximus was so against their relationship, why he insisted on keeping them apart. This was a pattern for Leo. It begged the obvious question:

“So…what happened?”

Leo sighed. “We made plans to run away.”

That shocked Tem.

“You were going to leave your family for her?”

“ Evelyn was my family.”

Tem felt a chill go down her spine. She looked up at Leo. His eyes held nothing but hurt.

“You loved her,” Tem whispered.

“Yes,” he whispered back, his voice nearly breaking. “I certainly did.”

Leo spoke with such finality that a small part of her soul was wounded by his words.

Tem tried to imagine Leo in love, Leo happy, Leo with Evelyn. The same knife of jealousy that had pierced her earlier twisted again in her now. You don’t care about him , she reminded herself. This is all for show. Yet even as she thought it, Tem knew it wasn’t true. She cared now, whether she wanted to or not.

Leo dropped her hand. He continued quietly:

“The morning we were meant to leave, she didn’t show up. Eventually I figured she had changed her mind, and I left.”

Tem stared at the carving on the tree. Just those two letters—nothing else. She knew if she waited, Leo would elaborate. Still, the silence stretched on for minutes before he finally said:

“I had my servants ask around about her. But she was gone.”

“Where did she go?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know,” Leo paused, and his next words were a broken whisper: “I…still come here most mornings. Just in case.”

He fell silent, and this time Tem let the silence sit, wondering if she’d ever seen Evelyn at school. She’d never been particularly concerned with anyone in the grade above her; Tem’s schooldays had been spent simply trying to survive. Perhaps Gabriel had known her—the village was small—it was entirely possible. But if Evelyn had gone away, there was no telling where she could be now.

Tem took a moment to consider what this part of Leo’s past meant for their future. If he was still in love with Evelyn, his heart was closed off—not just to Tem, but to anyone. The elimination process was pointless if he wasn’t ready to fall in love again.

She thought about how Leo had been drawn to her from the very beginning—how he seemed to revel in the way their courtship got under his father’s skin. What was the point in telling Tem about Evelyn if all it did was show her that Leo wasn’t available—that he was using her? Was Tem just a placeholder—somewhere for the prince to store his pain while he worked through his grief? Did she even have a right to be angry if that were indeed the case?

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked softly.

Leo sighed.

“Because you asked me to impress you. And the only thing that seems to impress you is honesty. So I’m trying to be truthful about my past.”

He paused, meeting her eye.

“If it was a mistake, I pray you’ll forgive me. But I want you to know who Iam.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.”

Tem didn’t think twice before the words left her mouth. She meant them.

Leo nodded.

“I’m glad.”

Tem stared up at him, every bone in her body wishing things were different. She wished they had more time to get to know one another—that perhaps she might reveal herself to him in the same way he had just revealed himself to her. Leo was being honest and open—something Caspen couldn’t seem to accomplish. Before she could decide how to move forward, Leo said:

“You don’t trust me, do you, Tem?”

She could only tell him the truth.

“Not really.”

Leo nodded, as if her answer didn’t surprise him.

“What can I do to change that?” he asked quietly.

Tem sighed.

“I don’t know, Leo. I’m not sure anything you do would change that.”

There was another silence, and in it, Leo reached for her, touching the tips of his fingers to her waist.

“I’d like to try.”

The place where he touched her was warm.

“Then tell me the truth,” she whispered.

“About what?”

“Your intentions.”

Leo tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Tem gestured at the carving on the tree.

“Are you only pursuing me because you know it will anger your father? Or do you really want me?”

Leo didn’t answer at first. When he did, his voice was soft:

“Both.”

She knew it was the truth.

“I don’t like being used, Leo,” Tem said quietly.

She expected him to reply right away.

Instead he stepped closer, raising his other hand to cup her face gently in his palm. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she thought he might kiss her. Instead he brushed the tip of his thumb over her bottom lip, so gently she barely felt it, so slowly an eternity passed by the time his finger trailed from one side to the other.

When it was over, Leo whispered:

“Did you like that?”

He was barely an inch away.

“Yes,” Tem whispered back.

Leo smiled. “That’s a start.”

“Leo…”

But she couldn’t finish. She couldn’t possibly tell him that she still didn’t trust him—not now, not when they were standing by the bench where he had sat with the first girl he ever loved, not when he had finally chosen to be vulnerable with her. Not when Tem was keeping so many secrets herself. So instead she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his.

They stood together, hands clasped, the graveyard silent around them.

Tem didn’t know how long they stayed there. It was bitterly cold by the time they left, and Leo took off his cloak, moving to place it over her shoulders.

Tem waved him away.

“But you’re shivering,” Leo said quietly.

“Then I’ll shiver.”

Hurt flashed across Leo’s face.

“Very well.”

With a jolt, Tem realized the gesture was genuine. She was so used to Leo’s actions as moves on a chessboard; she almost couldn’t tell when he was being real.

“Wait,” she put her hand on his arm.

Leo paused, still holding his cloak. His eyes searched hers, deep apprehension in them.

“You can give it to me.”

A shadow of Leo’s smile returned, and he stepped closer.

Tem stayed perfectly still as he draped his cloak over her shoulders. He brushed his fingers along the nape of her neck, gently lifting her hair so her curls fell loosely down her back.

He looked so content as he did it—so undeniably fulfilled—that despite the warmth of his cloak, Tem got full-body chills.

Leo looked her in the eye.

“I understand you don’t need me to take care of you,” he said quietly. “But it is my pleasure to do so.”

Tem nodded, her throat suddenly tight.

She knew Leo liked to take care of her. She remembered how he’d paid for her drinks at the Horseman—how he always made sure she had enough to eat. Such gestures were how he built trust between them. But it only worked when Tem let him do it, and nothing could be more difficult.

Tem pulled his cloak tighter around her shoulders as they walked back toward the church. Did Leo wish he was giving Evelyn his cloak instead of Tem? And did Tem wish it was Caspen giving her his cloak instead of Leo? She didn’t know anymore.

When they were once again standing on the main street, Leo looked at her.

“What next?”

Tem looked back at him.

She knew he didn’t want to go home. And normally, neither would Tem. But her mother was tending to the butcher’s daughter, and Tem found she didn’t want to be alone.

So she took the lead, guiding them wordlessly through the cobblestone streets, steadily approaching the edge of the village. Leo’s shiny black shoes were out of place here; Tem found herself blushing as they reached her tiny cottage. If Leo thought her accommodations were depressing, he didn’t say so. Instead he followed Tem as she pushed through the garden gate, asking only:

“Are your parents not home?”

“I’ve never met my father,” Tem said. “And my mother is tending to a child in the village.”

Leo didn’t respond.

As soon as they were inside, Tem pulled Leo’s cloak off her shoulders and hung it on the coat rack before pointing at the kitchen table.

“Sit.”

Leo’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “If you insist.”

Tem knew her mother kept a stash of alcohol in the kitchen for the rare occasion when she needed a drink after a particularly long day on the farm. She searched for it while Leo sat, eventually locating the bottle in the cupboard behind the flour.

She held it up.

“Only if you’ll join me,” Leo said in reply.

Tem found two glasses and poured them full. She handed one to Leo.

“To Kora,” she said.

“To Kora.”

They clinked glasses, drinking together just as they had the first night they met. Leo downed his glass in one gulp. Tem refilled it immediately.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” he asked, his teasing tone a shadow of what it usually was.

“You’re already drunk.”

“That I am.”

Tem looked at him. His jaw was set; his body still tense. She didn’t know how to comfort him, but she found that she wanted to.

“Your father is wrong, you know,” she said quietly.

Leo looked at her.

“No, he isn’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to say that my father is wrong—that I’m not a child—that I’m capable of making my own decisions and that he should trust me to live my life the way I want to live it. But it’s not true. I am being utterly selfish in choosing you. There will be consequences for my actions. And if I know my father, they will not be pleasant.”

Tem took another sip of her drink. “I was going to say that you’re not ignorant. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Tem. Too many compliments and I may develop an ego.”

Tem rolled her eyes. “Please. We both know it’s far too late for that .”

Finally, Leo smiled.

They drank in silence for a while, and eventually, Tem said:

“Has he always been like that?”

“My father? Yes, always. Why do you ask?”

Tem shrugged. “He’s so angry. I’m just surprised that you turned out…” she trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

Leo was still looking at her.

“How did I turn out, Tem?” he asked softly.

“Like you,” she answered.

There was nothing specific in her answer. She hadn’t said anything, really. And yet it felt like she’d given him a compliment, and for some reason, she hoped he took it as one. Perhaps he did, because he asked:

“Have I managed to impress you?”

Tem thought about how Leo behaved tonight. He’d treated Gabriel—someone far beneath his status—with kindness. He’d responded to her constant digs with nothing but humor. He’s always done that , she realized. All he’d ever wanted was to earn her favor, even though it was her who was supposed to be earning his.Leo’s vulnerability revealed a different side of him—a side Tem liked. So she whispered:

“Yes.”

“I’m certainly glad to hear it.”

Tem found she was glad to say it.

The moment deepened. She was suddenly aware that they were alone, in her cottage, with nothing to prevent what happened next. Leo smiled fully, flashing his gold incisors. His gaze remained trained on hers as he said:

“You’re difficult to please, you know.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Leo raised an eyebrow at her. Some of his usual attitude returned.

“Good thing I’ve always liked a challenge.”

Tem rolled her eyes.

“ Don’t get ahead of yourself. If you’re expecting to fuck me tonight, you can forget it.”

He laughed softly.

“I wouldn’t dream of expecting that.”

She shot him a look, but he only smiled wider.

“What I expect and what I want are two different things, Tem.”

The words were familiar: he’d said them during the Frisky Sixty, when she’d refused to undress for him. How simple life had been back then.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed either,” Tem said bluntly.

Leo smirked. “A bed isn’t required for what I want to do.”

She glared at him.

“You can spend the night in the kitchen. The chairs are hard as rocks.”

His smile widened. “Delightful. I look forward to it.”

Tem didn’t have anything to say to that, so she said nothing. It was obvious Leo was enjoying himself. To Tem’s utter surprise, she was enjoying herself too. She wasn’t exactly…having fun —too many emotional things had occurred tonight for that to be the case. But there was something satisfying about her back and forth with Leo: their banter felt natural, like she was competing against a worthy opponent. But she didn’t know what Leo wanted. And she doubted Leo did either. The wound with Evelyn was clearly still fresh. And yet, here he was, in her kitchen, and Tem knew she didn’t want him to leave.

Tem downed the rest of her drink, and Leo downed the rest of his.

“We’ve established that I’m not going to fuck you,” he said. “But are you going to let me kiss you?”

Tem crossed her arms.

“Will you stop that?”

He frowned. “Stop what?”

“Flirting with me.”

She expected Leo to have an immediate comeback, but instead he tilted his head.

“Does it really bother you?” he asked quietly.

Tem’s answer came against her will:

“No.”

Leo shifted closer. The walls of the kitchen seemed to shrink.

“Then why would you want me to stop?”

“Because when you flirt with me, I flirt back.”

“That’s the idea.”

“And when I flirt back, I feel like I’m betraying…myself.”

She wanted to say Caspen. But somehow, she couldn’t bear the thought of speaking his name in front of Leo. The prince was still watching her, his head cocked to the side. Tem sat silently, staring at her whiskey glass. When Leo spoke again, his voice was sincere, his teasing tone completely gone.

“I didn’t know it made you feel that way. I certainly don’t mean to assault you in your own home.”

He paused. Tem wanted to say something, but she couldn’t seem to breathe. At her silence, Leo continued:

“I’m grateful for your hospitality, so I will refrain from flirting with you tonight. But know this, Tem,” he leaned in, and she smelled his cologne. “Flirting with you is a pleasure. And a compulsion. One that, if I’m being truly honest, I doubt I can stop.”

Tem stared at her whiskey, unable to look him in the eye.Her throat was tight.

“Tem,” Leo said softly. “I understand, more than anyone, how you feel.”

“Don’t—”

“And I understand —” he cut her off, leaning even closer, “—that your loyalty lies elsewhere. Contrary to what you may think, it is not my intention to make that more difficult for you. I know what it is to have an occupied heart. But I cannot help how I feel. And you’ve made it very clear that I am not entitled to any part of you—that your heart, as well as your body, are to be earned. I ask only for the chance to do so.”

Now Tem was sure she was blushing.

“You may think he is right for you,” Leo whispered. “But perhaps I am right too. And should you choose to kiss me tonight, he never has to know.”

Leo was so good with his words. Always saying the exact thing that would give her pause. It was an infuriating talent, and one that was serving him extremely well right now.

His breath feathered her cheek as he finished quietly:

“So are you going to let me kiss you?”

Tem closed her eyes.

She couldn’t deny that she was drawn to Leo. But she also couldn’t deny the look she’d seen in his eyes when he told her about Evelyn. He loved her— still loved her—the type of love that didn’t fade easily, if it ever did. Tem didn’t want to kiss someone who loved someone else. He was not the same man who had walked into the Horseman. This man had a past. A past that could have a profound effect on their future.

Tem opened her eyes.

“Not tonight.”

To her surprise, Leo smiled.

“Is something funny?”

“No,” he said simply.

They stared at each other in the darkness. Despite the autumn evening, the kitchen was warm, and Tem felt agitated. Why was it that immediately after she’d turned down a kiss from the prince, suddenly it was all she wanted to do? She had to break the moment:

“I’m going to sleep.”

Leo ran a single finger around the rim of his glass.

“Very well. Goodnight, Tem.”

There was a pause, and Tem almost didn’t want to leave. But she was exhaust?ed. She needed time to process what had just happened between them, and she didn’t trust herself to make any more decisions tonight.

Tem was just pulling her bedroom door shut when suddenly she was met with resistance. With a jolt, she realized Leo was holding the door from the other side. She let go of the handle slowly, watching as he pulled it open, leaving a six-inch gap between them. For a moment, Tem thought he might step through. But he didn’t. Instead, he said quietly:

“In case you change your mind.”

Then he turned away.

In case she changed her mind?

Could Leo tell, somehow, that Tem had been on the verge of changing her mind already? He seemed to be inside her head nearly as often as Caspen was. At the thought of Caspen, Tem crossed to her bedside dresser. With a glance back at the open door to make sure Leo couldn’t see her, she stripped down to her underclothing, reached between her legs, and removed the claw. She didn’t know why she did it. Something was guiding her tonight that she couldn’t explain: something was drawing her to Leo in a way she’d never been drawn before. Tem studied the smooth curve, stroking it with her thumb.

A moment later, her hand was empty.

She stared at her palm in shock. The claw was gone—disappeared as if it were never there in the first place. It had happened only once before—at Tem’s request, before the Frisky Sixty. Did Caspen know what she was thinking about doing with Leo? She felt for him with her mind, but the door between them was firmly shut. Tem flexed her fingers in disbelief. There was no point in dwelling on it any longer.

Instead, Tem climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately. But she awoke just hours later, and no matter what she did, sleep wouldn’t return. She tossed and turned violently, trying not to stare at the open door.

But she couldn’t ignore it.

She thought about how she had taken Leo in tonight. He was right; it was her choice. And she had made it readily, without outside influence, simply because she’d wanted to. She thought about Caspen, whose voice was painfully absent from her mind. He was always the one drawing the line between them—it was always Caspen who decided when and how their relationship would progress. Now Tem was the one drawing the line with Leo—keeping distance between them, policing his behavior and holding him at arm’s length.

Now the person setting boundaries was her.

And why, exactly, was she so against the human prince? What was it about Leo that Tem found so abhorrent? Was there really anything wrong with him, or was it just that Maximus was his father—something over which he had no control—something he himself had expressed disgust over. Should a son suffer for the sins of his father? Maximus judged Tem constantly, with no justification or remorse. Was she really going to do the same to Leo?

Leo had never lied to her. He’d defended her in front of his father—more than once—at great personal cost. She’d never taken his constant advances seriously, but now Tem wondered whether that was just because she’d gotten so used to the polar opposite from Caspen. Was she only interested in affection when it was being withheld from her? Leo had proven time and time again that he wanted her, even when she didn’t believe him. Leo, whose opinion of her was informed by her actions, yet her opinion of him was formed by her own prejudice. Leo, whose only sin was his lineage. Leo, who despite the fact that girls were throwing themselves at him left and right, had only pursued Tem. Why should she deprive herself of what she knew they both wanted? Leo was right. Caspen never had to know.

Tem got out of bed.

She crossed to the door, which was still cracked open. As if in a dream, she walked through it. Leo was still at the table, fast asleep, his head tilted back against the wall. His sharp cheekbones were softer in the dark, his thick blonde hair mussed in the back. She stared at his exposed neck, his prominent Adam’s apple. He was completely defenseless. For some reason, seeing him like that confirmed Tem’s decision.

She touched his shoulder.

At the contact, Leo’s eyes flew open. He looked up at her calmly, as if he knew what she was about to say.

Tem said it anyway:

“I changed my mind.”