Quinn
Tobias Maris was a paradox. A strange mix of a boy I once knew better than I knew myself and this cold, distant king who had become a virtual stranger.
Ever since he had come back into my life, we had danced around each other, both careful not to get too close.
We lived in the same quiet house yet never shared a meal.
The only real time we spent together was to train, a usually silent affair unless I coaxed monosyllabic answers out of him. At least he allowed that much, despite his attempts to avoid me and everyone else.
I knew we could never be what we once were. Not because of what he had been through—though I was sure he thought that—but because if he realized what I was hiding from him, he would never look at me the same again.
And yet, despite myself, I couldn’t seem to stay away. Not when he needed me. He was hurting, that much was obvious, and not in a way I could easily heal. I wasn’t the only one who noticed, just the only one who couldn’t seem to handle the thought of him facing his trauma in his own time.
Tobias wordlessly passed me a cool glass of water before filling his own. His eyes were downcast, his face too pale as the flush from our sparring faded, like something had sucked the life from him. He stared down at his glass, his gaze unfocused as if he was reliving some unknown horror.
The water trembled slightly.
Suddenly I was desperate to fix whatever had caused that look—to banish whatever ghosts haunted him.
“If you keep practicing, you might manage to beat me one of these days.”
It was a refrain I hadn’t said since we were kids. He had been so easy to rile when our parents started training us, so competitive despite his easygoing nature. I had said it to him after every sparring session—win or lose—to his perplexed amusement.
Tobias’s lips quirked, his eyes meeting mine for a split second before he looked away.
Then his expression turned carefully blank, like he had forgotten himself for a moment.
Maybe we had both slipped through time for a heartbeat to when he was a boy with a carefree smile and I was a girl he wasn’t afraid to share it with.
The Tobias I knew in high school was quick to laugh, and even quicker to get others to do so. He lived with an open heart, was witty in a way that never poked fun, and was rarely seen without a cajoling grin. Along with his sister…he had been my best friend.
Sometimes it felt like that boy died in Aviel’s dungeon.
“We should probably get ready,” I said, trying to catch his eye once more.
Tobias gave a short nod, his eyes still downcast like he was actively avoiding my gaze.
Then he turned on his heel. His long strides ate up the space between us and the stone archway leading indoors as I struggled to keep up.
Though, based on the speed he hurried forward, maybe he was trying to get away from me.
Even during our journey to Adronix, his haste felt more like he was running from something rather than toward our destination. It wasn’t so much that he was going somewhere—it was like he was fleeing something he couldn’t bear to face.
Tobias seemed to relax infinitesimally as he crossed the threshold, his posture less guarded as he waited for me just out of reach of the sun.
In the shadowy hallway, he was more imposing than usual.
He had grown since those gangly teenage years; his broad shoulders muscled in a way that strained against the fabric of his clothes and so tall I had to look up to meet his eyes.
The angles of his face were more dramatic than the boy I once knew, his strong jaw covered with dark stubble.
No hint remained of the laughter that once lived in the crinkles around his eyes, his mouth.
This Tobias was the epitome of icy composure. For a second, I wondered what it would take to break it. Whether that calm was genuine, or merely a carefully constructed facade stretched over something brittle, just waiting for the right pressure to fracture.
My eyes lingered on his unsmiling mouth before meeting his impenetrable gaze. Before he could run away again, I asked, “Are you excited?”
Tobias blinked, like he didn’t understand the question. “For?”
I rolled my eyes. “The wedding.”
Getting the most innocuous information from him nowadays was an exercise in patience.
My annoyance, however, abruptly faded when I remembered that his silence was likely a vestigial instinct from his imprisonment—an ingrained habit formed when even the slightest slip could have cost his sister her freedom.
Tobias gave a noncommittal shrug, though a muscle flexed in his jaw. “I don’t think that’s what they call it here. Besides, Eva and Bash have been bonded for months now.”
His voice was deep and raspy, like it was still out of use. The low timbre of it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Okay fine,” I teased, refusing to let his obvious lack of excitement dim my own. “Are you excited for their very belated bonding ceremony then?”
He almost smiled. The ghost of it played at the corner of his lips before it vanished. His voice was soft as he said, “She deserves some happiness after everything.”
A shadow crossed his face. I reached for him unthinkingly, but he had already walked away, leaving my hand raised midair as he continued down the hallway. I took a second to follow, almost glad he walked away before something stupid came out of my mouth like how much he deserved happiness too.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hurried after him to the enormous, rose-gilded mirror that would bring us back to the mountain summit high above us and the house that had started to feel like home.
I could use a shower before we left for Morehaven, not to mention my bag.
Most of what I had packed were gifts since my dresses for the weekend were waiting in my room in Morehaven.
Eva had insisted I call one of the many empty rooms in the castle mine though I preferred spending the night here to be close to my experiments.
Tobias stopped in front of the mirror, staring impassively at the ripple that started at its center as I came up beside him. I was stuck on my frustrating inability to read him anymore when he spoke again.
“I don’t know how she stands it.”
The candor in his tone caught me off guard. “Stands what?”
“Living there. In that place.”
Tobias’s voice had gone gravelly, full of loathing on that last word, though his face still betrayed nothing. His gaze was far away as he no doubt relived the memories of the castle we would soon return to.
My cheeks heated. Of course, Tobias wasn’t excited to return to Morehaven after being imprisoned there by the monster who slaughtered his parents.
Just because Eva had found a way to divorce the trauma that had happened to her there with the home she and Bash created didn’t mean that Tobias had done the same.
Not when he had spent years being tortured within its walls by the False King.
“They did redecorate,” I mumbled lamely. “Found a way to make that castle theirs and not his. Don’t you think so?”
Tobias’s lips pressed together as if he struggled to find the right words. “It doesn’t change what’s beneath.”
Had the dungeons that had held him prisoner been destroyed? I found myself wishing I knew the answer as his hand drifted to his opposite arm, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where he had once been chained.
Hesitantly, I reached out to him again, giving him time to pull away even as I hoped he wouldn’t.
His sleeve had ridden up, revealing the thick, layered scars banded around his wrist. My healing magic rose to my fingertips automatically to fix the injury.
An intrinsic response though logically I knew it was too late to do anything about it.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m here,” I murmured, my hand slipping into his. It wasn’t the first time I had said those words to him.
I didn’t expect a different answer. Maybe some part of him knew the offer didn’t go both ways.
The silence stretched unbearably. I braced myself for him to push me away, just like he had when we first returned from Adronix—any semblance of our friendship vanishing along with Tobias himself.
His hazel eyes flickered as they finally met mine, the gold encircling their pupils more pronounced in the dim light. I could sense the way his heartbeat quickened, even as I made my magic draw back. A flash of something pained crossed his face as his throat struggled to swallow.
Tobias’s mouth parted slightly. For a split second I allowed myself to hope that he would finally let me in enough to help him…
Laughter abruptly pierced the silence. Voices echoed behind us, loudly chattering about the preparations that needed to be made before the bonding ceremony.
The haunted look Tobias wore when he thought no one was looking disappeared in a blink. I winced as that blank mask slid firmly back into place. He ran his free hand through his chestnut hair, hopelessly mussing it, the long strands falling over his eyes.
“We should go,” he murmured. He looked down at where my hand still held his. The faintest hint of color reddened his cheeks.
I started to pull away, but his fingers threaded through mine before I could. There was a slight change in his expression—a crack in the stone. The gold in his eyes gleamed as he released a measured breath, then gave me a slight nod.
Together, we stepped through the mirror.
I stumbled as we reached the other side.
The strange vertigo of this form of travel wasn’t something I would ever get used to.
Tobias’s grip tightened, keeping me upright.
He let me go the second I was steady. I could still feel the warmth of his hand atop mine, the way my skin seemed to tingle at his touch.
His own hand closed into a fist as he scanned me from head to toe, as if making sure I was safely intact from the half-second journey.
His fingers flexed as he backed away.
I clasped my hands together, rubbing my thumb across the back of my hand. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the casual teleporting,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Though it does beat the stairs.”
The dark tunnels from the Solearan castle up to the once-secret city atop the mountain weren’t for the faint of heart.
“I know what you mean,” Tobias murmured, gesturing for me to keep walking.
Despite his longer legs, he slowed to stay beside me as we walked up the staircase that led to our shared hallway.
He paused as we reached my door, leaning against the wall beside it so his body formed a long line.
I had a sudden flashback to him waiting outside of my math class for me, though he had been far lankier then.
He had filled out in our years apart—during the years I had grieved and wondered who he might have become.
He tilted his head like he was trying to figure me out, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt as he crossed his arms.
“Thanks for walking me to my door,” I said before he could walk away again.
Tobias glanced down the hallway then back at me, deadpanning, “It was out of my way.”
I grinned far too widely in response. “Was that a joke, Maris?”
He looked almost as surprised as I felt, though it was short-lived. “Of course not, Sagray.”
But I didn’t miss the quirk of his lips before he turned away, striding down the hallway. For a heartbeat, I felt breathless as I realized just how much I had missed him.
Sometimes I would get a glimpse of the boy I knew rather than the stranger with the same eyes. Sometimes it seemed like he might be reaching back rather than shunning all attempts to bring him out of his self-imposed isolation.
Sometimes it was like no time had passed at all.
Still smiling, I called out, “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? We can leave to Morehaven together.”
I might not deserve his friendship. But he deserved the chance to heal—and if I could help him, I would.
A slight dip of his head was all the acknowledgement I got before he disappeared into his room.