Chapter Seven #2
Tem very much doubted that Evelyn understood how she felt.
It was an impossibility. And Tem hadn’t just been engaged to Leo—she’d been married to him.
It was a specific distinction, and one that Evelyn had purposefully ignored.
She was diminishing their relationship, attempting to minimize what they had together.
Tem felt a wild urge to retaliate, to say something that would remind Evelyn just who she had been to Leo.
Instead, she raised her hand and slowly brushed a curl from her face, positioning her fingers so that the slim silver band on her ring finger flashed in the candlelight.
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. Leo’s widened.
Tem knew full well that the gesture was not lost on either of them. It was a dangerous thing to do, but Tem was feeling dangerous. Nothing about this conversation had satisfied her. She was in no mood to indulge it any longer.
“Of course,” Evelyn continued, her eyes boring into Tem’s, “now that I’m back”—she threw a meaningful glance at Leo, who was still staring at Tem’s hand—“we can’t wait to get married.”
A knife twisted in Tem’s stomach. Of course.
Her marriage to Leo had been annulled for the express purpose of clearing the way for a marriage between Leo and Evelyn.
The villagers needed a queen, and Tem was no longer an option.
Her human side knew this was for the best. Her human side was almost happy for them.
But her basilisk side growled in jealousy, and beside her, Caspen squeezed her leg once more.
He asked the question on the tip of Tem’s tongue: “Are you not already married?”
Leo shook his head, snapping back to reality. “Evelyn wants a wedding.”
“We want a wedding,” Evelyn said, squeezing Leo’s arm. “And we’re going to plan it together. I want it absolutely perfect.”
Tem stared at her blankly. Their kingdoms were on the brink of war, and she cared about planning a wedding?
It was a perilous time. The truce was in flux and there had already been bloodshed.
The fact that Leo had had two wives in the span of a week would not be received well.
The right thing to do would be to marry quietly and get on with the task of ruling the kingdom.
The path forward was clear to Tem. How could it not be clear to Evelyn?
The right thing to you and me is not necessarily the right thing for them.
Tem rolled her eyes. Don’t pretend this makes any sense.
I did not say it made sense. Only that it is what they think is right.
It’s what she thinks is right. Leo doesn’t want this. You can tell.
Leo is a man. If he does not agree with his wife, it is up to him to express that to her.
Tem knew Caspen was right. He was painfully, logically, right. As always. This dinner was a terrible idea.
To her surprise, amusement seeped from his mind to hers. I think it is going rather well.
Seriously?
Yes. I had expected you to throw something by this point.
Tem shot him a look, which he returned. Then to her surprise, he smiled, leaned in, and kissed her. For a moment, all was right with the world. The table disappeared, and all Tem knew was Caspen’s lips on hers. The claw pulsed gently, warming her once more.
Evelyn cleared her throat. They pulled apart reluctantly, and Tem looked over to see Leo glaring at her with complete and utter rage. It scared her so much that she nearly recoiled.
Caspen’s mind tightened around hers: He is angry, Tem. Do not hold it against him.
Why are you suddenly playing peacemaker? You’ve been far too reasonable tonight. I don’t like it.
He let out a quiet laugh under his breath. Because it is in my best interest for this dinner to go well.
Well, it’s not going well so far.
It might go better if you focused on something other than your anger.
Tem sighed. He was being insufferable tonight. Then again, so was she. And only one of them was making this dinner more difficult. There’s nothing else to focus on.
Shall I give you something else?
The claw pulsed. The pulse built. Before Tem could react, Caspen turned back to Evelyn.
“When will you be wed?”
Tem knew he couldn’t care less about the answer. But he was the only one making conversation, and they both knew it was safer than her chiming in at this point. Tem had nothing whatsoever to add to a discussion of their wedding. Nothing positive, at least.
“On Mother’s Night.”
Tem frowned. “But that’s—”
“Lovely,” Caspen finished.
Evelyn smiled at him before returning to her chicken. Tem stared at Caspen in disbelief.
Mother’s Night occurred on winter solstice and was widely believed to be Kora’s birthday.
Gods weren’t born exactly. But it was said that Kora descended from the heavens on Mother’s Night, many millennia ago, to bestow fertility on the women in the kingdom.
She gave the gift of life, and the villagers had honored her by having children ever since.
It was unbelievable to Tem that Evelyn would dare to hold her wedding on such a blessed day.
There could be no greater insult—no exercise of ego more shameful than thinking your nuptials deserved to occur on Kora’s birthday.
Lovely? How dare she?
She is merely excited.
She’s delusional. Has she lost her mind?
It is not for us to have an opinion on her wedding.
It’s their wedding. And I have a hard time believing Leo supports this.
Clearly he does; otherwise, he would have said.
This is ridiculous.
This is none of our concern, Tem. They can do as they please.
Tem had nothing to say to that. She stared at Leo, who was picking at his food listlessly, pushing vegetables from one side of his plate to another with a golden fork. He hardly looked like a man who was doing as he pleased. He seemed more like a captive in a cage.
Another pulse came, and Tem closed her eyes.
Caspen was sending them faster now, and Tem was having trouble sitting still.
This had all seemed like a great idea in the carriage—back when she thought she could control herself during dinner.
Now that she was sitting here, soaking wet and squirming in her chair, it all seemed rather ridiculous.
Caspen. Please.
Was she begging for less? For more? Tem had no idea anymore.
All she knew was that with one final pulse, her core clenched and intense relief slammed into her.
Tem had never come quietly in her life. But she did so now, clamping her eyes shut as her release traveled through her in a shuddering wave.
She squeezed her thighs together as tightly as she could, deepening the sensation as she gripped her seat with both hands.
Her mind cried out for Caspen’s, seeking his presence and immersing herself in it.
In moments like these, she remembered that while she may be wearing Leo’s wedding ring, she belonged to the man beside her.
“Tem?”
A voice floated to her through the echoes of pleasure.
“Tem?”
There it was again. Pressing and shrill.
Tem finally opened her eyes to see Evelyn staring right at her.
“Are you well? You look a bit flushed.”
Of course she looked flushed. She’d just had an orgasm.
But there was no polite way of saying that, so Tem said, “I’m fine.”
Leo was staring at her again. Was it her imagination, or did he look flushed as well?
Leo knew how Tem looked when she came. He would recognize it now, right in front of him, at the dinner table.
And if he did, how would it make him feel?
Jealous? In the darkest corner of her heart, Tem wanted him to be jealous.
But perhaps he was indifferent—immune to her charms now that his new wife was by his side.
When nobody said anything, Evelyn spoke again. “And how are your parents, Tem?”
Tem’s parents were the last topic she wished to discuss so soon after climax. And how did Evelyn know about them anyway? Had Leo told her about them?
“They are fine.”
“It’s good to hear they are unaffected.”
Tem frowned. “What would they be affected by?”
“The food shortage, of course.”
“What food shortage?”
Evelyn glanced at Leo, who took a dangerously large gulp of his wine. “Haven’t you heard?”
Obviously Tem hadn’t heard. She was no longer a resident of the village; she wasn’t privy to the daily happenings in town. If there really was a food shortage, she would have at least expected Gabriel to mention it. But he’d said nothing, and neither had her parents.
“No. I haven’t.”
“Oh.” Evelyn tilted her head innocently. “I see. Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, things have become…difficult for our kingdom lately.”
More silence.
“How so?”
Tem expected an immediate reply. When the pause went on, it was Caspen, ultimately, who answered: She is referring to the bloodletting.
Understanding shot through Tem. Of course.
“The shortage has been difficult,” Evelyn said.
Beside her, Caspen stiffened.
Tem wondered briefly whether she meant the food shortage or the shortage of blood. One glance at the loaded golden plates before her told Tem it was probably the latter.
“There have been protests,” Leo said quietly. “The villagers are angry.”
That was no surprise. The villagers were already angry before her marriage to Leo.
Jonathan’s and Christopher’s deaths had violated the truce, and they wanted justice.
Abolishing the bloodletting—a move that appeared favorable to the basilisks—was the last thing the villagers wanted.
Leo was in a dangerous position. And Tem had put him there.
“That’s…unfortunate,” Tem said stiffly. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else.
“What’s unfortunate is that our people will be affected by this,” Evelyn said over her glass. “Don’t you think?”
The comment seemed innocent at first glance. But it was anything but.
“Our people,” Tem said with pointed emphasis, “have already been affected by this.”
Beside her, Caspen’s energy was changing. Tem was not the only one who had to be careful controlling her temper. If Evelyn was implying that the bloodletting should continue, Caspen was sure to lose his good attitude. That was the absolute last thing that Tem needed to happen at this dinner.
Caspen’s voice cut into her mind: How dare she?
Now Tem was the one to place her hand on Caspen’s knee. This was all wrong—Leo had agreed to end the bloodletting. They shouldn’t even be talking about this.
She should watch her tongue. Or I shall remove it.
Caspen. You can’t hurt her. She’s the queen.
Caspen turned to her, looking straight into her eyes. You are the only queen I answer to.
Everything else fell away as he looked at her. Tem saw his fierce pride, his unwavering commitment. Her basilisk side unfurled beneath his gaze, immediately drawn to him.
She turned back to Evelyn, shrugging with an ease she did not feel. “Sounds like you need to find a way to make money.”
“We had a way,” Evelyn said. “But Leo stopped it.”
Tem’s mouth fell open.
Leo’s gaze remained on his wine, but a muscle in his jaw twitched.
“You could always ask for a loan,” Tem snapped.
“And who would we ask?”
“The other royals. There were certainly plenty at our wedding.”
Another jab. Tem was truly out of control now, but she couldn’t help it. This conversation was making her furious, and she was dangerously close to losing her temper.
“The other royals are feeling the loss too. Our economy affects theirs.”
“That’s too bad.”
Enough, Tem. Caspen’s voice was tight. His anger matched hers.
I hate her.
She is not important enough to hate. Now that is enough.
Tem slumped in her seat. She felt suddenly exhausted, as if she’d just run a mile at full speed. Across from her, Leo seemed paler than usual. He really wasn’t looking well, she realized. The more she and Evelyn argued, the more it hurt Leo. Caspen was right. It was enough.
Thankfully, at that moment, the butler appeared with dessert.
The final course was consumed in silence, all four of them staring down at their plates as they ate.
Caspen barely touched his. Tem couldn’t blame him.
This dinner had been, all things considered, an utter disaster.
All she wanted was to leave the castle as quickly as possible.
But just as they were rising from their seats, Evelyn said, “Tem? Can we talk alone?”