Chapter Twenty-Nine
Silence fell. Evelyn’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. She looked absolutely terrified.
Tem braced herself for what Caspen would do next: yell or possibly break something. Instead he turned to Tem and said, “You do not need me here.”
Then he left without another word. Tem stared after him in shock. They hadn’t made it through a single dinner without Caspen leaving early. It was his routine. You do not need me here. Caspen meant in every sense. If Tem had Leo to protect her, what role could Caspen play?
Evelyn stared at Leo expectantly. He avoided her eye.
“Fine,” she said. “You don’t need me either. Enjoy your meeting.”
As quickly as the evening had begun, it was over. Tem and Leo were left alone again, with nothing to do but look at each other. Tem stared at him in silence, wondering what exactly they were supposed to do next.
“Tem,” said Leo quietly.
She blinked. “What?”
“Will you stay?”
Tem sighed.
Evelyn was right; it was inappropriate for Tem to linger.
But the fact remained that she wanted to—and needed to.
Tem didn’t see a world where Caspen would be willing to discuss strategy with Leo, especially after what had just happened.
That task fell to her. And even if there was no strategy to discuss, Tem would stay.
The crest was still drawing them together—her heart still ached for him.
It didn’t matter that the world was falling apart around them. Tem wanted to stay.
“Yes,” she said.
They went to the library.
Leo crossed immediately to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go. The cords of his neck flexed as he swallowed.
He turned to face her. “Do you have to look so good when you come here?”
Tem’s mouth fell open. She was so surprised that she replied without thinking, “You’re one to talk.”
It was true; Leo looked so good. The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing the full length of his throat.
His hair had started the evening combed back, but after running his fingers through it, blond pieces fell perfectly over his forehead.
He looked the perfect amount of disheveled, as if he’d just finished having sex. The thought made Tem immediately wet.
“Don’t do that,” Leo said.
“Do what?”
“Don’t compliment me.”
Tem tried to smile. “That’s my line.”
His frown only deepened. “Evelyn’s right. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Tem didn’t reply. Of course they shouldn’t be doing this. But they were doing it anyway.
A long moment passed. Leo poured another glass of whiskey and handed it to her. “The protests have stopped,” he said.
Tem took a moment to feel relief, to know that between her session in the dungeon and Gabriel’s visit beneath the mountain, there was temporary peace.
“But if there is to be no more bloodletting…” Leo trailed off.
Tem knew what he was going to say. This was just a lull in protests; as soon as the supply from Tem’s blood ran out, the villagers would be starving again.
They would be back at square one.
Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “I don’t know what to do, Tem. Things are…not good. The villagers are angry. Your people broke the truce. They won’t forgive it.”
The image of Jonathan and Christopher flashed through Tem’s mind.
Caspen had broken the truce. For her.
“My people had a good reason,” she said.
Leo’s eyes met hers in genuine surprise. “Which was?”
Tem froze. She’d keep Caspen’s secret out of fear of what might happen if Leo knew he was the one responsible. But if they were to truly rule their kingdoms in tandem, perhaps Leo deserved to know the full story. Perhaps he deserved the truth.
“Caspen is the one who petrified Jonathan and Christopher.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “And why would he do that?”
“It was…retaliation.”
The inevitable question followed: “Retaliation for what?”
Now Tem hesitated. How much should she reveal?
It wasn’t a matter of preserving Jonathan’s and Christopher’s reputations—they were dead.
But Tem wondered how Leo might react to the specifics.
It might make him angry. But it also might help him understand why Caspen had done it, so she said, “They hurt me.”
A waterfall of emotions passed over Leo’s face in quick succession. First shock, then anger, then outright concern. “What? How?”
“It’s…not important.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Leo,” she said tiredly. “Please.”
“Tem.” She saw his fingers tighten on his whiskey glass. “Tell me.”
She sighed. There was no avoiding this—she knew he wouldn’t drop it, and part of her was happy that he cared. But another part of her had no interest in telling him about the assault. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about ever again, much less describe in detail.
“They ambushed me,” she said, keeping it as simple as possible. “When I was alone on the trail. They…touched me.”
Leo’s face went white. “Touched you how?”
“It’s not important,” she said again, firmly this time. Tem meant it. There was no reason for him to know any more.
In response, Leo poured another whiskey, this one significantly larger than the first. “You should have told me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“It wasn’t exactly dinner-table conversation, Leo.”
“I don’t mean tonight. I mean you should have told me back when we were—”
His sentence died on his tongue, but Tem finished it anyway: “Together.”
The word lingered in the air.
Leo threw back a gulp of his whiskey.
Tem sighed. “There was no reason for you to know, Leo. Caspen handled it.”
“I understand he handled it. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have told me. For Kora’s sake, Tem. I defended them in front of the entire village. I said their deaths were devastating.”
Tem remembered his speech, how it was meant to placate the villagers. She could understand where his anger was coming from. But she didn’t blame him for defending them. It was his duty to defend his people.
“What do you want me to say, Leo? It would have been wrong to put you in a position where you had to choose between your subjects and me.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Please, Tem. You’ve never had a problem putting me in a position to choose.”
His words stung her. She was the one who had to choose. “That’s not fair and you know it.”
Leo merely shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he whispered. “You are fucking unbelievable.”
Tem crossed her arms. They were getting nowhere. “I’m sorry Caspen broke the truce. And I’m sure he’d apologize himself if you want him to. But you can’t blame him for retaliating.”
“No, I…” Leo trailed off, swirling his whiskey. Suddenly, his resolve seemed to break. “I would have done the same.”
There was a gentle pause. Tem could feel Leo’s mood soften, and hers as well.
“It doesn’t change the fact that my people are angry,” he continued quietly. “A man disappeared a few days ago. He lived alone, on the outskirts of the village. Evelyn thinks it was the basilisks.”
Fear pierced Tem’s gut. It wasn’t just the basilisks—it was her.
“If he disappeared, then why would they assume it was the basilisks?”
“Who else would it be, Tem?”
She pursed her lips.
Leo leaned in. “Do you know something?”
Tem didn’t answer.
Leo wasn’t looking away. Caspen’s words ran through her mind: What will your little prince think of what you did?
Tem knew exactly what Leo would think. He would be disgusted, and he would have every right to be.
Tem had become the thing the villagers feared: the thing she herself had always feared.
She couldn’t tell Leo it was her fault. She couldn’t bear for him to look at her any differently.
“Tem.” Leo broke her from her thoughts. “What is going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you look…tired. Is everything…well?”
Everything was not well. Her body, although exhausted, was fine.
Her mind, on the other hand, was a different story.
All Tem could think about was everything that could possibly go wrong.
It wasn’t just the bloodletting; the tournament loomed in her mind like a shadow, threatening to engulf her.
Her relationship with Caspen—which was already faltering—was now in serious danger.
She should have expected Leo to notice that something was wrong.
It was in his nature to notice her—to care.
Even when she was no longer his to care for.
“I don’t know,” Tem whispered. It was too much to explain—too much to bear.
His eyes pierced hers. “Tem,” he said, a hesitancy to his voice. “I am always here for you. If you need me.”
Tem looked at the fire—it was easier than looking at him.
Leo was out of line to offer himself to her like that.
They were not confidants; they were not friends.
This was a business relationship now—a political partnership that needed to function perfectly if they were to continue ruling their kingdoms together.
Leo knew exactly what his words would do to her, knew exactly how they would make her heart beat faster.
Tem hated that she was so predictable. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to stop.
She studied the angles of his face, his sharp cheekbones.
He looked different than he had even just last week, hollowed out, as if something were eating him from the inside out.
She should be asking if he was well, not the other way around.
But there was no point in asking. Tem knew what was ailing him: the crest. Another problem there was no solution for.
“I’m just…overwhelmed,” she said simply.
He nodded. The firelight flickered across his face. “I see. For any particular reason?”
Tem couldn’t imagine telling Leo about the tournament.
But she’d already told him that Caspen broke the truce, and he’d taken that well enough.
What was one more piece of information? Besides, the outcome affected him too.
Rowe was violent and unpredictable. He hated the humans.
If he won, he would not hesitate to wage war.