38. Wretched Vulnerabilities #2
"I know there will be," he corrected. "The question is what form they'll take, and who will bear them."
"We don't know what's happening," Xül continued, his voice softening, "but for now, we need to keep this quiet. If Kavik was sent by Pyralia and he never returns..."
"Then there are few who know what actually happened here," I realized.
He nodded. "Staying silent might tell us more than demanding answers. I want to see how this unfolds—who reacts, who doesn't." His eyes met mine, searching. "Can I trust you to keep this between us?"
"Of course," I said without hesitation.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"And in the meantime?" I asked. "What do we do?"
"In the meantime," he repeated. "I won't leave you like that again. I promise."
Warmth bloomed in my chest at his words—something dangerously close to trust. I pushed it down, focusing instead on the practical.
"Why were you in the city so long?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
Xül hesitated before rising.
“I wasn’t in the city, starling.” His voice was low. “At least, not the past few days.”
“Then where were you?”
"Verdara," he said finally, his back to me. "With my father."
Verdara. Davina’s domain.
He sighed, a soft sound barely audible. "And Nyvora," he said, the name hanging in the air between us.
I tried to ignore the pang in my chest at the mention of the beautiful goddess who had made her interest in Xül abundantly clear at the Banquet. It was stupid, this jealousy—unfounded and unjustified. I had no claim on him, no right to feel anything about who he spent his time with.
"Why?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral despite the sudden tightness in my throat.
When he finally spoke, his voice was flat, resigned.
"My father has come to a decision," he said, each word carefully measured. "About who I will marry.”
"So it's her—Nyvora," I whispered, hating how my voice betrayed me by cracking on her name.
He nodded once, a sharp, tense movement. "I don't know when, but yes. Eventually. We were in Verdara accepting the terms."
Pain twisted in my chest—an irrational pain that I had no right to feel. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I must have failed because his brow furrowed.
"That's wrong." I hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but the words were already out. "You don't have to do that. Not after what she did to you. Not after how she treated you."
Xül turned fully toward me. "There are things you don't understand, Thais." His jaw clenched. "I have to do this. I have no choice."
"You could stand up to your father," I argued, pushing myself straighter despite the pain it caused. The sheet fell away, revealing one of Xül’s black shirts hugging my frame. "Tell him you won't go through with it."
His irritation hardened. "Stand up to him?" He laughed, a bitter sound. His power pulsed around him, an aura of darkness that made the shadows in the room lengthen and writhe.
"There is nothing to stand up against," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I am doing this to help my father, because it must be. This is my duty to my family, to my domain. To the future of Voldaris."
I stared up at him, refusing to be intimidated. "So you'll just marry someone you don't love? Someone who hurt you?"
He stepped back, and for a moment, the anger seemed to drain out of him, replaced by a hollowness.
"Love was never part of the equation, Thais," he said. "Not for someone like me."
His gaze drifted to the window, to the scarlet beyond. "I've always expected a loveless marriage. I accepted that a long time ago. "
He looked back at me. "It's why I don't... allow myself to form attachments that could deepen. There's no point in opening yourself to that kind of vulnerability when you know how the story ends."
His tone made me wonder if he was speaking from experience—if there had been someone, once, who had slipped past those walls.
"That sounds... lonely," I said quietly.
A small smile touched his lips. "You get used to it."
But I could see in his eyes that he hadn't—not really. Behind the cold mask of the Death Prince was someone who had spent his entire life holding everyone at arm's length.
"What I want is irrelevant." His eyes met mine and I caught a fleeting expression—too quick to identify, gone before I could understand it. "It always has been."
I refused to flinch at his words. They hit too close to the thoughts I'd been battling since that moment on the shore—that traitorous warmth that surged through me every time I recalled the press of his mouth on mine, the way my power had surged in response to his touch.
I'd spent every day since forcing those memories into the darkest corners of my mind.
That kiss had been a means to an end for him.
It meant nothing. Could mean nothing. And yet it lingered like a brand on my memory.
I forced a nod, averting my gaze. It was too much—that stare of his. Too intense. Too knowing. And in this moment, I was terrified he’d see right through me.
"But no matter what," he finally said, each word deliberate, "I will be here for you. I will get you through the Trials, Thais." He hesitated, then added, "that much I can promise."
I reached out, not entirely sure what I intended, and he caught my hand. His skin was cool against mine, his fingers wrapping around my own. His thumb traced over my knuckles. For some reason, the simple contact made my throat tighten.
"Rest," he said, and he released my hand.
I watched him move toward the door, his shoulders set in that perfect, regal posture that gave nothing away .
"Xül," I called, just as he reached the threshold.
He paused without turning.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For saving my life. Again."
He looked back over his shoulder, and for the briefest moment, his expression softened. His face changed—a slight relaxation around the eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.
"Always, starling," he replied, the nickname sending an unexpected warmth through me. "Always."