Chapter Thirty-Nine
Tem did not return to her chambers. Instead, she sought solace the only place she knew she could find it.
Her parents’ cottage was dark; it was late—or maybe it was early—and they were surely asleep. Tem knocked on the door anyway, pounding her fist until her father opened it, staring at her with bleary eyes.
“What is the matter, child?”
But Tem did not have the words. Everything was the matter.
“Temperance?” Her mother emerged from the bedroom. “What are you doing here?”
At the sight of her mother, Tem fell to her knees in a defeated heap, sobs racking her body.
She was dimly aware of hands on her shoulders, lifting her up.
The familiar scent of the sea enveloped her.
A mug of tea was pressed into her hands, and she savored the heat.
All three of them sat at the kitchen table, in silence, until Tem was ready to speak.
“I think I made a mistake,” she whispered. “I’ve ruined everything.”
“You are allowed to make mistakes, my child. They are a part of life. Everyone makes them.”
“You don’t.”
Kronos smiled softly. “Of course I do. I make them all the time. Do you truly think that I have lived as long as I have without making any mistakes?”
Tem deeply wanted to believe him. But she felt so horrible it was difficult to do so.
“It is not your mistakes that matter, child. It is how you fix them.”
But Tem couldn’t fix them. Not this time. What she’d done was unfixable. “I don’t want Leo to die,” she whispered.
Kronos sighed, placing his hand on her arm. “Have you been able to transition at all?”
She shook her head.
“Then you must make your choice soon. He will not have long.”
“If I just had more time, I could—”
But what, exactly, could Tem do? More time wouldn’t change her circumstances. It would only prolong them.
“If time is what you need, there is one thing you can do.”
“What?”
Kronos glanced at her mother, who gave him a sad, knowing smile.
“The crest must be consummated with sex. But if you do anything leading up to that act, his fate will be delayed.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you kiss him, if you do anything other than sex, it will buy him some time.”
Tem didn’t bother asking how he knew that. She had seen the look between her parents—she knew they had a long history together. She was grateful for that history—it informed her future.
“You must know that is not a permanent solution,” her father continued. “The draw of the crest will not wait forever.”
Tem stared at her tea, trying to imagine a world in which she and Leo would even be allowed to kiss each other. She doubted Evelyn would ever let them be alone together again. And after what just happened with Caspen, he probably wouldn’t either.
“I can’t kiss him,” she whispered. “I can’t do anything else either.”
“Then you may have to watch him die.”
They didn’t speak any more after that. The sun was rising anyway, and her mother went out to tend to the garden.
Tem spent the day in her parents’ bedroom, alternating between sleeping and eating the meals her father brought her.
Eventually, it was evening, and Tem still wasn’t ready to return to the mountain.
She knew Gabriel had the day off, and she knew where to find him.
“Tem, dearest,” he said when she walked into the Horseman. “It’s been too long.”
It had been barely a day, yet Tem agreed. She returned his embrace, holding him tighter than usual. “Did you enjoy the rest of the celebration?” she asked.
“Of course I did. What about you? I’m surprised you’re able to walk after all that.”
Tem didn’t have the heart to tell him her body had been through far worse than the tournament. She decided to change the subject. “Is Damon taking care of you?”
Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at her. “As best he can.”
Tem shoved him. Some things would never change.
Suddenly Gabriel’s eyebrows rose. Tem followed his gaze to see the last person she expected to see: Vera.
She looked rather worse for wear—her blond hair was ragged and lank, her usually pink lips were pale. Tem hadn’t seen her since the wedding, and it would appear that the food shortage had affected her as well.
“Rumor has it she’s dating Jeremy now,” Gabriel murmured as Vera walked toward them.
“Jonathan’s brother? Really?”
He gave her a pointed look. “You’re not one to talk, dearest.”
Before she could retaliate, Vera paused at their table, staring down her nose at Tem.
“Vera,” Tem said cautiously. “How are you?”
A quick sneer turned those pale lips. “Better than you.”
So nothing had changed, then. Despite her bedraggled appearance, Vera was still a bitch.
“At least I have a husband,” Tem said. It was the one thing that might hurt her.
Vera’s mouth fell open.
“Close your mouth, Vera,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “A bug might fly in.”
Tem held back a laugh. Vera leaned in.
“Your husband is a snake. It’s revolting. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t think anyone has forgotten what you did. You ruined everyone’s chances with the prince, and then you didn’t even want him anyway.”
She couldn’t be more wrong. Tem still wanted him. She always would. “You don’t know anything about that,” Tem said quietly.
“I know plenty,” Vera snapped. “And I know your husband should watch his back.”
Then she flounced away.
Tem turned to Gabriel. “What did she mean by that?”
“I don’t know.” He stared after her darkly. “But there have been…whispers.”
“Whispers about what?”
“A coup.”
“A coup?”
“Food is scarce again, Tem. Not to mention a man disappeared, and people think it was the basilisks.”
Tem’s stomach turned. The man again. The one she’d petrified. His disappearance had fanned the flame of rebellion, and it was all her fault.
“Jeremy took over when I…stepped down. He’s been leading the charge.”
It wasn’t lost on Tem the magnitude of what Gabriel had done.
To give up his seat as the leader of the rebellion was no small gesture, and it was all because of Damon.
She knew without asking that the bond between them was strong.
Damon had chosen Gabriel as his mate. It was only a matter of time before Gabriel chose him right back, if he hadn’t already.
Tem was suddenly afraid that she had made things worse for him—that if the villagers viewed Tem the way Vera did, then they might view Gabriel just the same.
“Gabriel,” she said. “I need you to stay safe. If the villagers know you’re on our side—”
Gabriel’s hands clasped over hers. “Then they’ll know I’m loyal to the people I love.”
***
The next few days were agony.
Tem spent hours traipsing around the passageways, trying not to think about everything that was going wrong.
She didn’t dare seek out Apollo; she didn’t want to see him anyway.
She only wanted to see Caspen, and he was nowhere to be found.
It wasn’t until Sunday that Tem truly began to worry.
They were supposed to have dinner at the castle.
What if he didn’t show? What if she had to brave the meal alone?
The thought was too much to bear. Surely, he would show.
Surely, he would not leave her to suffer Evelyn alone.
But when the carriage arrived to take her to the castle, Caspen was not in it.
Tem sat alone on the velvet bench, staring out the window at the stars, wondering where on this earth her husband might be.
Had he retreated to the sea, where basilisks originated?
Or was he simply hunting, as he always was, trying to regain the strength that Rowe was taking from him?
It killed Tem not knowing. But there was nothing she could do about it.
All she could do was walk in the front door of the castle and follow the butler to the dining room for dinner.
Leo was already seated. He was alone.
“Where’s Evelyn?” Tem asked.
At her question, he flinched. “She won’t be joining us tonight.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not feeling well.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She is ill, Tem. What more information do you need?”
“None, I guess. I’m just asking.”
“Very well. Shall we eat?”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Tem noticed that Leo didn’t ask where Caspen was.
He was acting…odd. Restrained, as if he were holding something in.
It wasn’t like him. Usually, she could read him like a book.
But not tonight. Tonight, it was as if he’d erected a shield between them—one that prevented her from seeing what was really going on.
They sat at opposite ends of the table, staring at each other. Tem was quite sure that Evelyn wasn’t ill. Surely, she had no desire to see Tem after their disastrous meeting last time. She was probably upstairs, in Leo’s bathtub, drinking expensive champagne.
A butler began serving dinner.
Tem studied Leo intently as he ate, trying to determine whether he looked worse than he did last time. She concluded that he did. There were bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were hunched. How long did he have?
“Tem,” Leo said, breaking her from her thoughts. “Did the fight happen?”
She’d completely forgotten about their conversation in the library—how she’d told him about the tournament, and he’d told her to fix things.
“Oh,” she said. “Yes.”
“And? How did it go?”
How to answer him? It had gone terribly, all things considered. “It…” She trailed off.
When she didn’t continue, Leo said, “Did Caspen win?”
Tem realized suddenly how it would look to Leo—her showing up to the castle without her husband. “Yes,” she said quickly. “He did.”
Leo nodded. “Good.”
Was it? Tem didn’t know anymore. It was better than the alternative. But at this point, that didn’t mean it was good.
“There is another matter we must discuss,” Leo said.
“Which is?”
He paused, and Tem’s heart pounded in her chest. “Will you attend the wedding?”
Tem hadn’t expected him to ask that, and she certainly didn’t have an answer. With everything going so terribly, she’d forgotten that Mother’s Night was just days from now.
“I didn’t realize I was invited.”