Chapter Forty #2
“What does it say?” Caspen asked. He was still on the bed.
“They want us to stay at the castle the night before the wedding.”
He sat up slowly. “And why would they want that?”
“I don’t know. I…think it’s Evelyn’s doing.”
The look on Caspen’s face perfectly matched the way Tem felt.
“We don’t have to go,” she said quickly.
Caspen held up his hand. “Yes we do.”
“But why?”
He didn’t answer.
Tem stared at him. All night, he had been sad. All night, he had grieved. But now anger crept into his voice, and Tem found herself afraid of what it might mean. Why would Caspen be so willing to go to the castle right after such an egregious attack on his people?
“Caspen,” she said cautiously. “It’s their wedding.”
“I am aware of that.”
“We can’t…ruin it.”
It was all she said, but she knew he understood what she meant.
Tem didn’t care about the wedding itself.
And she certainly didn’t care about Evelyn.
But she cared about Leo. Nothing had changed: they were still in the same position they had been before the weasel, and there was still no way to fix it.
“Basilisk royalty always attends the royal weddings.”
“I know, but—”
“You are the queen, Tem,” Caspen said. “You must be there.”
At his tone, she fell silent. It was clear he was done discussing this.
Was Caspen testing her? Daring her to say that she didn’t want to watch Leo get married?
It was a cruel test, but she couldn’t blame him for it.
The four of them were in lockstep, trapped in a pattern of distrust that was eating them from the inside out.
Tem should have known there would be no peace, that these insufferable Sunday-night dinners would eventually lead to this.
They spent the following days in near silence.
It wasn’t just them; every basilisk under the mountain was grieving the loss of their brethren.
Tem felt their collective sadness on a physical level, as if a weight were crushing her chest. Basilisks did everything together, and grief was no exception.
Tem spent most of the time in their chambers, lying next to Caspen, running her hands gently over his skin.
She could think of nothing else to soothe him; the loss was too great.
“What do basilisks believe happens when they die?” she asked him one night.
“We believe our souls go to Kora.”
It was the same thing humans believed.
“When one of us dies, we all feel it,” he continued.
Tem could understand that. Basilisks were all connected—all one. “Do you have funerals?”
“We do.”
“What are they like?”
“We will burn their remains, then return their ashes to the lake.”
Tem nodded. She could think of no better send-off.
By the time the night before the wedding arrived, Tem was emotionally spent. The carriage ride was silent, and Tem tried not to project her anxieties onto Caspen. He seemed much calmer than her, although she couldn’t tell if he was sad or angry. Possibly he was both.
Evelyn greeted them at the door. “Thank you so much for coming,” she said smoothly, as if this were a regular Sunday-night dinner and not the night before her wedding. “We’re so happy to have you.”
Tem had no idea who “we” was supposed to be. Leo was nowhere to be found.
“Shall I take you to your room?”
Neither of them answered. Evelyn was acting…
strange. Cheerful, almost. It was a stark contrast to her usual mood, and it was throwing Tem off.
Was she simply excited about the wedding?
Tem could imagine she was thrilled to officially get her claws in Leo.
Or perhaps she was eager to rub it in Tem’s face.
Either way, Evelyn was positively beaming as she ushered them up the stairs.
Tem’s stomach immediately dropped as she realized where their room was.
Right across the hall from Leo’s.
Tem stared at his bedroom door, remembering the last time she was behind it.
Leo had asked her to marry him not ten feet from where she was standing.
He’d gotten down on one knee and given her the silver ring that was currently on her finger.
Tem touched it now, trying to control her rage.
Surely, this was purposeful. Surely, Evelyn had done it to be cruel.
Her next words confirmed it: “I put you nice and close to us, in case you need anything.”
The only thing Tem needed was a lobotomy.
“Tem?” Evelyn said. “Could I have a word?”
Immediately, Tem’s adrenaline spiked. “Why?”
“Oh, you know. Girl talk.”
Not this again. Tem had had enough girl talk with Evelyn to last her a lifetime.
“Come,” she chirped. “Let’s talk in my room. We’ll give your husband a chance to settle in.”
My room. Your husband.
Tem looked at Caspen, who looked disinterestedly around the room. There was nothing in it but a bed, a desk, and a chair. For all intents and purposes, he was already settled in.
Will you be fine here?
I will be fine, Tem. I am not a child. You can leave me unaccompanied.
I know, but…
The truth was she didn’t want to leave Caspen unaccompanied. Tem had no idea what he would do here in the castle, alone and angry, without her by his side.
Will you be here when I’m done?
I will.
Still, Tem hesitated. She was waiting for something—waiting for him to say—
Go.
At his command, dark disappointment twisted her stomach, and Tem realized she had hoped to hear another word—one that was the opposite of go. But the word didn’t come, so she went.
Tem half expected Evelyn to hook her elbow through hers as they crossed the hall.
Instead, she proudly opened the door to Leo’s room, crossing to pour them drinks from the bar cart.
Tem stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying not to look at anything.
It was too intimate, too personal. And that was perhaps the point.
Tem saw their bed, which was unmade. She wondered which side Leo slept on.
Her question was answered when her gaze fell on the left bedside table.
Tem’s heart performed a swoop when she saw the book there: The Raven and the Swan.
“Please,” Evelyn crooned. “Sit.”
They sat in the armchairs before the fire, the same ones where Tem had sought refuge from Caspen before his quiver had given her their blessing. The same ones where she had come on Leo’s fingers. So needy, he’d whispered. What are we going to do with you?
Evelyn handed her a glass of champagne.
With a sigh, Tem downed it. There was no point in asking for anything else, and she was positive she wouldn’t survive this girl talk without alcohol.
“I’m so looking forward to the wedding,” Evelyn gushed. “Wait until you see the swans. They’re incredible.”
Tem resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Was this the reason Evelyn wanted to talk to Tem? To gloat? Evelyn had won the battle, and this was her victory lap. How Tem wished she could win the war. “Did you invite anyone from the village?”
“Oh, everyone is coming.”
“I didn’t mean this village.”
Evelyn stiffened. But Tem didn’t care. If Evelyn was going to insist on girl talk, then Tem was going to push her—to force her to acknowledge her time away. “Surely, you made friends while you were there.”
Evelyn shrugged. “Not really.”
“No? Shame. It must have been lonely.”
“I had a good reason to stay.”
The words seemed to just slip out. Tem leaned forward. “What reason?”
Evelyn seemed to be considering something. Finally, she said, “You were a chicken farmer before all of this.”
It wasn’t a question. Tem decided to answer it anyway. “Yes. I was.”
“Then you can understand how difficult life can be. You can understand that, when presented with a better option, it’s best to take it.”
Tem frowned. What better option? Evelyn hadn’t made any friends while she was away—she claimed she had taken no lovers. So why had she stayed?
A memory crept in: She did not leave because of some ridiculous letter. She left because I offered her a higher price than what she could steal from me one fork at a time.
Tem had nothing to lose. It was the eve of Leo’s wedding, and she was at the end of her rope with Evelyn. If she didn’t get the truth now, she never would.
“How much?” Tem asked before she could stop herself.
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“How much did Maximus pay you?”
The rest of her question hung unspoken in the air between them: to leave Leo?
Evelyn was watching her thoughtfully. She did not look like an animal cornered in a cage. She was perfectly calm as she said, “Plenty.”
There it was. The truth.
All the suspicion Tem had harbored for so long was finally laid bare.
Lilly had tried to tell her. Maximus had tried to tell her.
But it took hearing it from Evelyn’s mouth for her to actually believe it was true.
Evelyn had known exactly what she was doing when she left Leo.
She’d jumped ship—moved on when she’d realized that Maximus would never accept her and his payout would be more than she’d get if she stayed.
She’d only returned when he was no longer king and she could infiltrate the castle the way she’d always wanted.
It was then that Tem understood she had underestimated Evelyn.
Now she could see her for what she really was—the worst kind of predator, the kind that looked like prey.
Evelyn possessed power indeed. It might not be the kind of power Tem was used to—brash and loud and destructive—but it was power nonetheless.
Her sly, wide-eyed innocence was nothing more than an act.
She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A lie.
“You’re despicable.”
Evelyn pressed her lips into a thin line. “Wouldn’t you have done the same?”