Chapter Forty #3
Tem recoiled. She thought of how Maximus had tried to scare her off—how he told her to remember her place.
There was no price high enough that would have tempted her to leave.
He could have offered her anything, and she would have refused.
Revulsion swept through Tem. Evelyn was someone who could be bought.
It was a disgusting quality, and one that Tem found shameful.
Basilisks gave and received in equal measure, and accolades were earned through actions.
The only thing basilisks cared about was power—the only thing that swayed them was influence.
Money meant nothing to them; they could create gold from their blood.
There was no value to something with an unlimited supply.
“No,” she said firmly. “I wouldn’t have.”
Evelyn shrugged easily, as if she didn’t believe her. “Anyone in our position would’ve.”
“Our position?”
“We come from nothing, Tem. We have to take the opportunities that are presented to us. We owe it to ourselves to be smart.”
But that wasn’t true. Tem knew what it meant to have nothing—to wish for a wealthy benefactor to come in and fix everything she’d thought was wrong with her life.
She knew how it felt to want. And yet, when faced with such a benefactor, Tem wouldn’t have given in.
Evelyn had taken the easy way out—the coward’s way. And Tem, like Leo, hated cowards.
Leo would not forgive such a sin. He valued authenticity and integrity. Evelyn had neither. She was a facade—a pretty painting with an ugly canvas underneath. To be one village over and never reach out, to never give Leo closure—Tem couldn’t think of a more horrible thing to do to him.
Or perhaps she could.
Nothing was more horrible than what Tem herself had done to him. Tem had caused this. She may not have paid Evelyn to leave but she was at least partially responsible for her return. Guilt and horror threatened to swallow her. The only thing left to do was to try to make things right.
“You have to tell him.”
Evelyn had the nerve to let out a sharp laugh. “Absolutely not.”
“You can’t lie to him.”
“It’s too late.”
Tem shook her head emphatically. “He deserves to know who you really are.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. She leaned in even closer. “Why do you care, Tem? You left too.”
Something about Evelyn’s challenging tone reminded her of Vera. But unlike Vera, who wielded her cruel words like a sword, Evelyn used hers as a shield, to hide who she really was.
“I trust I have your confidence,” Evelyn said quietly.
She had nothing of the sort. Tem would not be silenced—she would not allow the sacrifice she’d made to be for nothing.
To keep Evelyn’s secret would be to lie to Leo.
It would mean betraying his trust—trust that Tem had only recently earned and barely deserved to keep.
If she kept Evelyn’s secret, she was no better than Evelyn.
She was just as much of a fraud. Tem had thought she was doing the right thing, that she was making everything better. Now she knew the opposite was true.
“If you won’t tell him, I will.”
Evelyn shrugged. “No you won’t.”
“And why not?”
“Because it will hurt him if he knows. And that’s the last thing you want, isn’t it?”
Despite herself, Tem paused.
“Picture it, Tem. Picture what will happen if you tell him about me. You’d be devastating him again. Do you really think he would survive me leaving twice?”
Tem couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
But she couldn’t deny that Evelyn had a point.
She didn’t want Leo to get hurt. It was the last thing she wanted.
To tell him would be to devastate him. Telling him would mean imploding their entire arrangement.
It could affect the relationship between the kingdoms, the future of both their marriages—everything Tem had worked to uphold.
Telling him would ruin everything Tem had sacrificed her happiness for.
It would mean it had all been for nothing.
Evelyn leaned even closer. “And what would happen next?” she said quietly, her voice threateningly low. “If I leave again, would you take him back?”
“I would,” she whispered, almost against her will.
Rather than react with horror, or at a minimum disgust, Evelyn replied calmly, “Would Leo even want you to? You already married him, then cast him aside. He must hate you.”
He must hate you.
Tem closed her eyes.
Even if Leo still loved her, part of him also hated her.
It was inevitable; she’d hurt him too badly for it not to be the case.
Evelyn was right about everything. Tem had a husband of her own.
She had an entire kingdom to rule; she couldn’t do both.
Leo probably wouldn’t even want her back. Not after everything she’d done to him.
“He doesn’t hate me,” Tem whispered. She didn’t even know if she believed it.
“If he doesn’t now, he would if you told him.”
Tem opened her eyes. Evelyn was looking at her with such pity.
“And what would Caspen think?”
Tem knew exactly what Caspen would think.
He’d made his thoughts crystal clear, drunk in the passageway after the tournament.
Your little human prince is fragile. And I am tempted to break him.
The days of an alliance between the two men were long gone.
Their agreement to share her had been a short-lived fantasy.
They could never go back to the way things were.
She could not command the basilisks and the humans at the same time.
It would be impossible. There were too many opposing viewpoints, too many needs that had to be met.
Leo deserved someone to rule with—someone who could take on the responsibilities of being queen. Tem had responsibilities of her own.
“Tell me, Tem, even if you had them both—could you love them equally?”
How was it that Evelyn knew exactly what to say to her to make her doubt herself? Tem knew she loved them both. She always had.
“How can you say such things?” Tem whispered.
A sick smile twisted Evelyn’s lips. “Because I know you, Tem. We aren’t so different. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll understand that this is the way it should be—this is proper. I will get married to Leo. You will remain with Caspen. We both get what we want.”
But Tem wasn’t getting what she wanted. She wanted Leo to be happy, to choose his future, to be loved in the way that Caspen loved her.
Evelyn didn’t love Leo. Not the way Tem did.
She loved power and money. She loved gold and bloodletting and shiny, pretty objects that would slake her thirst for wealth.
There was nothing more revolting to Tem than greed.
It was all she heard in Evelyn’s voice when she spoke—all she saw in those big doe eyes. She could not condemn Leo to this.
“Leave Leo to me,” Evelyn said, leaning even closer. “And we never have to interact again after today.”
Tem frowned. “We still have to interact every week.”
“Do we? I don’t think there’s a need for any more dinners, do you?”
The point of the dinners was to cooperate, to ensure their kingdoms were amicable. There was a dire need for them. “And why not?”
“There is nothing more to discuss.”
“Of course there is. We need to figure out a way forward that doesn’t harm either of our people.”
“There is only one way forward, and it is the way things have always been done.”
Tem’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying we will no longer ignore the resources at our disposal.”
“The basilisks are not your resources,” Tem snapped. “When you abolished the bloodletting, you agreed to enter a new era. If you bring it back—”
“I didn’t.”
Tem blinked. “You didn’t what?”
“I didn’t abolish the bloodletting. Leo did. Had we been married at the time, I would have advised him differently.”
Tem’s mouth fell open. “I don’t know what Leo sees in you,” she whispered.
A slow, vicious smile stretched her lips. For some reason, she looked delighted, as if Tem had just given her an incredible treat. “I know what he sees in you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you know he wrote you letters?”