Chapter Seventeen #2
Caspen clawed at her mind. His presence was so strong, she was having trouble concentrating—finding it almost impossible to breathe. His fingers gripped her hand in an ironclad clasp. Still, she did not yield. Tem would face this alone because she did not want Caspen to have to face it at all.
Evelyn blinked her round, baleful eyes. She turned slowly to Tem. “I think it’s rather noble of you.”
“Noble?” Caspen spat.
It was the first word he’d said in minutes, and immediately, the hairs on the back of Tem’s neck stood up.
She heard the danger in his voice, and it scared her.
Evelyn was extremely close to crossing a line, and if she took it any further, there was a very real possibility that Caspen would snap.
His presence was a storm, crackling and fierce.
“Noble is one word for it,” Tem said as calmly as she could. “Necessary is another. If a sacrifice must be made to keep peace between our kingdoms, I will make it.”
“I forbid it.”
Tem turned to Caspen. To her surprise, he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was still on Evelyn, his golden eyes narrowed in pure loathing. Her eyes were narrowed in return.
“If Tem is volunteering, then we should allow her to make her own choice.”
Caspen and Leo let out identical noises of disbelief.
“Tem is altruistic to a fault. This is not her choice to make,” Caspen growled.
“Any choice concerning my body is my choice to make,” Tem said quietly.
Silence fell again.
Tem knew she was pushing this too far. Nobody at this table besides Evelyn wanted this for her. But Caspen, despite his intent to protect her, could not prevent this. Only Leo could protect her. And if he was unable to do so, he would suffer the consequences.
Leo’s eyes found hers.
Tem had never been able to read his mind the way she could Caspen’s.
Leo wore his emotions on his sleeve, so it had never really been necessary.
But now, in the lingering silence, she wished she knew what he was thinking.
Did he understand the gravity of the situation?
Did he realize that they were on the brink of complete regression?
If the bloodletting continued, everything they’d been through was for nothing.
The wedding, the crest, his entire marriage to Evelyn.
If Leo allowed this to continue, he was no better than Maximus.
But Leo’s loyalty was to his future wife. And that wife was no longer Tem.
His eyes dropped. “Tem can make her own choice,” he whispered.
Beside him, Evelyn preened. She looked at Caspen triumphantly, her shoulders thrown back as if she’d just won the world’s greatest prize.
Then her gaze moved to Tem, who finally understood the loathing in it.
This was all about power for Evelyn—she wielded what little she had in order to make it clear that Tem, and the basilisks, were below her.
Tem would be disgusted if she wasn’t already used to people like her.
What disgusted her more was how Leo had allowed it to happen.
Progress, when unmaintained, was not progress at all. It was just another lie.
“Then it’s settled,” Tem whispered. “We can begin next week.”
At her words, Caspen stood abruptly.
Everyone stared up at the basilisk, his shoulders squared, his fists at his sides. Tem hadn’t felt afraid of Caspen in a long time. But she was afraid now.
“Tem,” he said quietly, with no emotion. “I will see you at home.”
Tem didn’t dare speak. She had no idea what to say. There was nothing to say.
They all watched as Caspen left the room.
His mind was closed off to her; now he was the one shutting her out.
It was the second dinner in a row that he’d stormed out of, and she found it significant that he’d left without her.
Did he want her to stay? Did he think she wanted to stay?
Tem had no idea what else she could possibly accomplish here, especially on her own.
She was just about to follow Caspen when Evelyn stood too.
“Leo,” she said, somewhat less calmly than Caspen. “Finish this. I will see you upstairs.”
Then she left the room too.
Tem and Leo stared at each other. It was only them now.
“Finish this?” Tem snapped.
He shook his head. “She didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what did she mean?”
When he didn’t answer, Tem stood. Immediately, Leo stood too. “Tem, wait—”
Leo reached for her, then dropped his hand. They still hadn’t touched since the annulment. Tem wondered if it was deliberate—if he was withholding himself on purpose for fear of what it might incite.
“Wait for what, Leo?”
“Tem, please. Let’s just talk.”
“I don’t want to talk,” Tem snapped.
“She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Leo was still standing, leaning toward her. “She’s just trying to protect her people.”
“Well, that’s nice. I’m trying to protect mine.”
“I know you are. That’s why we’re doing this, why we’re having these dinners—”
“These dinners are useless if they’re just a way to reinstate the bloodletting.”
“That’s not what they are.”
“Aren’t they? Then what exactly was that conversation we just had?”
“That was…just a discussion.”
“A discussion?”
“We’re just…trying our best to coexist.”
“I don’t see Evelyn trying to coexist. I see her trying to bring back the exact thing that caused the problem in the first place. It’s almost as if she wants another war.”
“That’s not her goal. She would never do that.”
“She would if you let her.”
“Well, I won’t.”
“Won’t you?” The words came out before she could stop them.
But the hurt that flashed across Leo’s face was unmistakable. “Do you truly think so little of me?” he whispered.
“I think you’ve forgotten your priorities.”
Leo downed his drink with a grimace. He looked down at the empty glass between his hands, and his next words were a whisper. “She’s going to be my wife, Tem. She has to be my priority.”
The word he’d chosen to emphasize was unmistakable. Tem fought a sudden swell of tears. “I know that,” she whispered back. “Trust me, I know.”
Their eyes met.
They stared at each other in the dim light of the dining room. It was all too much. She’d tried to do the right thing, and she had failed. She’d tried to protect him, and it was clear she hadn’t done that either.
“She’s not the same,” Leo said, his voice barely a whisper. “She’s changed.”
“What do you mean she’s changed?”
“When I look at her, I—I—” He shook his head, searching for the words. “I don’t understand who she is now. She never used to be like this.”
“Like what?”
Leo took a long time to answer. When he did, the word was as sharp as a blade. “Greedy.”
Tem had no idea what to say to that. It was a shock to hear Leo describe his own fiancée in such a way.
But she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t thought the same thing.
Evelyn was greedy. She coveted gold and placed value on physical items. Tem couldn’t relate to such fancies.
And despite growing up in a castle full of them, she knew Leo couldn’t either.
“We used to talk for hours,” Leo whispered. “Now we barely speak. She never even apologized for leaving.”
Tem couldn’t take any more. It was all wrong.
Evelyn was supposed to be the love of Leo’s life.
They were supposed to get married and have babies and love each other until their dying day.
They were supposed to be worth it. But now Tem couldn’t shake the inescapable feeling that she’d made a terrible mistake—that in a moment of pity after cresting Leo, she’d damaged his entire future.
It was an unacceptable result. His next words only confirmed it.
“I don’t want this, Tem.”
It was all he said, but it was so much more.
It was true that Tem had ordered Leo to find Evelyn.
But every decision after that had been his own.
She hadn’t told him to propose, hadn’t told him to bring her back here, hadn’t told him to let her seep her way into every aspect of his life.
Those were his own choices, and they had nothing to do with the crest or with Tem.
He was becoming someone she didn’t respect, someone she was not safe around.
Tem stepped closer. Leo’s eyes widened as she did it.
She lowered her voice, speaking with unquestionable authority. “We are done cutting ourselves open for you.”
“Tem,” he said desperately. She could hear the tightness in his throat. “Please.”
“Please what, Leo?”
Tem wanted to hear him say it—wanted him to acknowledge that he was nothing but a horrible, predictable hypocrite. Leo just shook his head.
At his silence, Tem allowed herself to hate him, just this once. She wanted him to feel the pain she felt—to understand exactly what his decision was going to do. There was only one thing she could say that would cut him deep enough:
“Your father would be so proud,” Tem said coldly.
She didn’t linger to see his shame.