Chapter 27 #2
“I would welcome the opportunity to stay here and learn more about Squall’s End and its citizens,” I say. “However, I would like to speak with my advisors. With my friends.”
One corner of her mouth quirks up. “Of course. We’ll be outside,” she says.
Basil shuts the door behind them as he, Etta, and Amaris exit the room.
“Well?” I ask, looking around. Holly still stands against the wall, arms crossed. Ivan and Luca sit more comfortably on the couch, both leaning back with relaxed postures. Asmo’s legs are still crossed, one arm now slung across the back of the chair. “What do you think?”
“I think the argument to live here is sound,” Asmo says. “What do you think?”
I lean forward. “I agree.” I look to the couch, to Ivan and Luca.
Ivan is slowly nodding. “Me, too,” he says.
Luca grunts in what I assume is approval.
“Thank the Mother,” Holly says. “I need to get out of that house and into a real bed.”
“To be fair, I don’t know if they have real beds,” I point out.
She chuckles, but her smile fades as she says, “I trust Etta. If she’s been safe here and she trusts them, I feel comfortable with it.”
Alright then.
“Let’s do it.”
Asmo tosses the empty leather bag on the bed. I grab it and start shoving my meager belongings inside, the collection small enough to carry everything in both hands.
He opens the drawer that holds all his clothes. Only one drawer, and it’s not even full.
I can’t help but huff a meager half-laugh.
“What’s so funny, princess?” he asks, gathering his collection of black shirts and turning toward the bed.
“The fact that we told Etta we had to come back and get our belongings. We have almost nothing.”
He re-folds his shirts, making sure each one is as neat as it can be before setting them in a tidy pile. “Ah yes. How I miss my fashionable clothing items in the court that sold its soul to be on the throne,” he says. “If this bag is my only closet, then I am proud of the choices I have made.”
I look back down at the bag and shove my well-worn socks inside. I stop when I find the pair of socks I stole from Asmo’s drawer.
“Hey,” I say abruptly, “when you were in the dungeons, I looked through your clothes.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Snooping? Or just missing me?”
I ignore him and hold up the black pair of socks. “Why do you have a wine cork inside of this pair?”
His eyes narrow in on the pair in my hands. “I was wondering where those went.”
I toss them to him. He snatches them mid-air and unfolds them, reaching his hand inside and extracting the wine cork. He holds it in the air between us.
“Our first date,” he says. I blink. He smiles. “The very first one, when you stormed away from me. I complimented you and you accused me of finding you a plaything, then you left me at the table. Remember?”
I cross my arms. What a way to spin the truth. “You didn’t compliment me. You said you found me…intriguing.”
“Is that not a compliment?”
My answering sigh is impatient. “You treated me like I was trivial, like I was something you wanted to explore, not someone you wanted to marry.”
His smile disappears. “That was never my intention, Mae.”
My name on his lips sends a shiver up my spine. I’m always princess. What started as a rude nickname has turned into something endearing. But him saying my actual name always conveys a sense of gravity or vulnerability.
“To be clear, I did—I do—want to explore you. I want to explore every inch of you. Of your body, of your mind. You are intriguing to me, in every meaning of the word. Every female I’ve ever been with…
They’ve always been so quick to please me, to agree with me, to be liked by me.
You are the only one who’s ever challenged me, who’s been brave enough to push back, to not take my shit. ”
Although his words give me butterflies, I roll my eyes at them. “This just sounds like the same thing, Asmo. You find me interesting, so that’s why you’re attracted to me.”
His jaw clenches. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “But even if it is, why is that a bad thing?” Although his tone is calm, I can tell he’s fighting from saying more.
“Because then I’m just something you’ve never had. At what point do you get bored and throw me away?”
“Mae.” He takes a step toward me, and the shiver turns into something warmer.
This room is so small, that single step nearly backs me against the wall.
He takes another, and this time, I’m forced against it.
“I threw my future away. For you. I threw my family away. For you. I threw everything away to have you. What makes you think I would throw you away after I fought so hard for you?”
I snort. “So, the reason you want me is because you have nothing to go back to?”
His hand flies up, the movement quick as a snake striking, and cups the back of my neck. His fingers intertwine in my hair and tug, forcing my gaze upward. Pain lines his eyes. “What are you doing right now?” he whispers. “Why do you keep pushing this away?”
Because the person who raised me only did so to throw me to the figurative wolves and steal my throne. The person who I hoped to marry only did so after murdering my father and then nearly killing my sister, all for the purposes of tricking me into marrying him. Then he tried to kill me.
I have no idea if I can trust myself again, if I can ever trust another person again. I have no clue how to love when it comes with so much risk—not just my heart, but the safety of my kingdom.
I close my eyes. Being vulnerable with others has never been my strong suit.
“Talk to me.”
I take a deep breath and force the words to come out. “I have a bit of a difficult time believing anyone,” I admit. “After…After Marik and Cora. Do you blame me?”
He reaches for my hand and brings it to his chest, to the space above his beating heart. “Do you not feel what’s between us? Are you so blinded by what my brother did?”
His heart beats against my palm, and I can’t think with him so close to me. “I—”
He grips my hand and squeezes. “Did he damage your heart so terribly?” His voice breaks. He presses his forehead against mine, and my breathing hitches. “Did he kill what’s mine?” His words feel like a plea, and my heart cracks.
I’m suffocating under the weight of what he’s done to me. I can’t breathe when I look at you, but I can’t breathe when I think about being with you.
“Asmo, it’s—”
But the moment is interrupted by three knocks on the door and Ivan yelling, “Ready?”
Asmo’s jaw clenches and his hold on my hand loosens. I slip away from him, his words clinging to me like a stain.
Did he kill what’s mine?
Every muscle in my body strains to turn back to Asmo, to scream and cry and hand him my heart and beg him to fix it. To put back the piece he stole from it.
But I can’t.
I have a kingdom to lead.
My heart can wait.