Chapter 38 #2
“Do you hate me?” I repeat.
Cael’s fist clenches. “I don’t understand the question.”
Which, I notice, isn’t an answer.
Yes, then?
I suppose that’s fine. I suppose I shouldn’t let his hatred feed my bitterness, not if I’m trying to be all changed and grown and better. As it stands, it’s not like I don’t hate myself.
“Why are you here?” he asks, ever wary, ever…righteous.
Why indeed? Closing my hands into fists, I say, “I’m here to apologize.”
“Apologize?” His muscles contract, and I sense his face scrunch as he no doubt combs through my words to search for loopholes.
I nod. “I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved in the past and all the ways I’ve hurt you and others.
I’m sorry that I haven’t cared for so long.
I’m sorry that, even now, I’m angry with you for things that are likely my own fault.
I’m sorry that I am not an easy person to…
” My mouth fills with bitterness I’m supposed to be abandoning, even though that is far easier thought of than put into practice.
“…love.” It’s hard to breathe. Probably because this loser is filling this stupid room with incomprehensible amounts of magic, just in case he needs to kill me right where I stand.
I continue, “I regret a lot of things. I don’t regret others that you’d probably think I should.
I’m not like you. I don’t want to be like you.
Even if I hate myself, I will always choose to be myself.
I could not have hidden what I was like you did.
I don’t know how it sat right with you. Pretending to not be a monster…
I don’t even know how you managed it as a faerie.
To lie with your entire body for so long…
I do not know how you survived. And I’m not sure if I’m jealous of the fact you could or if I hate the way it burns like hypocrisy in my gut. ”
“Castor—”
I turn my face from him. “I hated learning the truth. I hated not being a part of the secret. I hated that pretending worked for you when it could never work for me. I hated that we were the same, but you never acted like it, and you never acted like it so perfectly, you fooled me. You fooled me when I have spent lifetimes growing so close to magic I can decode what people are from a single brush of their presence. You lied to me…when part of the charm of being fae is supposed to mean safety from lies.”
Cael steps around his desk. “Little one…”
“Shut up,” I hiss. “I’m older than you. And an inch taller at least. I am not little. I am n—”
He reaches behind my head, sinks his fingers into my hair, and pulls me to his chest.
My throat closes as tears threaten to spill.
Low, Cael murmurs, “When did you become someone I have not met before?”
Probably at some point in those centuries when you were doing very well not meeting with me at all. “Who knows?” I mutter, voice breaking.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For everything.”
And that does it.
Tears soak into my blindfold as I struggle to maintain something akin to composure, something very not akin to a sobbing, sniffling child.
“How is Danielle?” he asks.
“Just fine.” I wet my lips. “She’s sleeping peacefully in her bird cage, where I keep her.”
Cael’s fingers flinch in my hair.
“She stabbed me a few days ago, too. And I threatened to cut wings out of her back. Tell me, is that how Alana got hers?” Why am I doing this? Why am I like this? “Did you cut them out of her?” I swallow. “Did she beg you to?”
Cael’s hand closes into a fist against my head.
“Have any of your spies told you yet?” I continue, doing what I do best—setting flame to things better left unburnt. “I’m building a kingdom.”
“A kingdom?” he queries, tone indecipherable.
“No, then?” I tut. “Some rotten spies you’ve got. I guess their loyalty remains mediocre at best.”
“I’d heard it was more like puny village.”
I flinch. “Who dared?”
“Pollux.”
That…stings.
Cael continues, “He figured I’d find out sooner or later, so he told me and made a case for it…for your…pandemonium, I believe it was.”
When will that man stop making cases for me?
When will I stop self-sabotaging long enough for them to matter?
And when—pray tell—will I grow up enough to begin maturely making these foolish cases for myself?
“It’s a great village,” I mutter. “Very lovely, my mate says. Everyone’s practically on the edge of feral.
You’re welcome to see it some time, so long as you don’t mind being poked, prodded, or bit.
” My heart pinches, and I huff. “No, that’s not…
” My bones crack as I clutch my hands into tighter balls.
“That’s not what I want to tell you. I would like to say that you are welcome to see what I have built.
” I swallow pride, and it goes down hard, stretching the boundaries of my throat.
“I would even appreciate your experience and…counsel…were you to offer it. I don’t know what I’m doing.
But I want to create a safe place for…for people like me. ”
Moments pass, then finally Cael says, “I’ll be sure to consider it.”
Oh boy. The wonderful moth prince’s consideration. It’s all I’ve ever wanted…
Why in the world must this be so difficult?
Why in the world haven’t I shoved out of his arms by now?
I say, “Why didn’t you kill me? When you gave up on me, why didn’t you end me? Is it because Pollux didn’t agree to it and you wouldn’t have been able to take me down alone? I’m unforgivable.”
“You aren’t the only one.” His cheek rests against the side of my head.
“I killed on purpose, without remorse.”
He hums. “Is that why you’re here, because you lack remorse?”
My heart splits in two, and I finally say the full horrific truth.
“I’m here so you can confirm everything I already believe about myself.
I’m here so you can tell me that I’m right and I really don’t deserve anything good.
I’m here so you can confirm there’s no hope left for me, and I should stop looking for it with blinded eyes. ”
“Odd,” he murmurs, and his grip loosens so his fingers can comb through my long hair.
“To think, this is the first glimmer of hope I’ve had for you in a very…
very long time.” Breath leaves him, and the pound of magic waiting patiently to end me trickles away.
Both his arms come around me, a desperation in the embrace that suggests I am not the only one who has changed and perhaps Cael no longer bothers pretending to be perfect.
Holding tight, he lets his voice crack. “I have missed you, Castor. More than I think I let myself know. It is good to have you home.”
My lips part, but I don’t find words for a long while.
I do, however, find the strength to lift my arms and wrap them around the self-righteous moth prince, who—probably, like Pollux said—has just been doing his best.