Page 256 of Between Two Kings

Tem stared at him. “That wasn’t a serious suggestion, Leo. You’d need the world’s biggest loan.”

“Then I shall try something else.”

“What else is there?”

Leo shrugged. “Anything. I will sell my valuables. Do you have any idea how much gold is in this castle?” He lifted up a spoon. “This could pay for a month’s worth of food for one villager. It will be quite a long time before we run out. And by then, I’m sure I will have figured out something sustainable.”

“Leo…that’s…”

“Anything is better than seeing you bleed, Tem.”

Tem couldn’t argue with that. “And what does Evelyn think of this?” She knew she was pushing him—forcing him to acknowledge the elephant in the room. But it was killing her not to know.

“Her opinion does not matter.”

Tem could wait no longer. “Leo,” she whispered, “where is she?”

Leo downed the rest of his whiskey. “She left.”

A chill ran down Tem’s spine. “Leo, I…” But there was nothing to say. Tem wasn’t sorry Evelyn left. It was the single greatest thing she’d ever heard. Pure, unencumbered joy swooped through her. “I’m sorry,” she said even though she wanted to say something else.

“For what, Tem?”

“For hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I never wanted to hurt you, Leo. But it’s all I do.”

In the silence, they watched each other. Tem looked at the bags under his eyes, the pale hue of his skin that seemed even paler than usual. Guilt laced through her. The crest was still in effect. Leo would feel the physical ramifications until they had sex. It would wear on him, as it wore on her. But at least Leo was no longer with Evelyn—at least the very first step to undoing her mistake had been completed. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Leo looked at her too. Beneath his gaze, she felt peace. Beneath his gaze, she blossomed. They had sat through so many of these dinners—horrible nights with Evelyn right beside them, watching their every move. But now they were alone, and for the first time, Tem wished this dinner could last forever. All she wanted was to look at Leo. It felt as if she hadn’t really seen him in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“You already said that, Tem.”

“I’m sorry for something else this time.”

“Which is…?”

“That Evelyn turned out this way.” Tem was sorry for so much more. But that would have to do for now.

To her surprise, Leo shook his head. “She was always this way.”

Tem didn’t reply.

After a moment, Leo whispered, “She never loved me. Not like you did.”

Tem looked straight at him. “Do,” she whispered.

He looked straight back at her. “What?”

“She never loved you like I do.”

It was an important distinction. And it was important that Leo knew it.

Tem shouldn’t be saying this, shouldn’t be confessing her love to Leo now or otherwise. But in light of what was about to happen, it felt like all her cards should be on the table. It felt, somehow, like the moment of truth was finally here.

They didn’t speak much after that. Tem picked at her food—she was far too stressed to digest anything properly. Leo opted for a liquid dinner, downing two worryingly large glasses of whiskey before simply sitting and staring at the table. He seemed to be contemplating something, and Tem had no desire to disturb him. Despite the circumstances, he seemed relatively resolved, which could work in their advantage. Tem did not expect Caspen to keep his temper; she was relying on Leo to do so. His safety depended on this meeting going well. If anything went wrong—if the basilisks took offense or if Leo’s apology wasn’t sufficient—it would mean disaster for both kingdoms. Neither side was willing to bend, and as a result, everything could break.

Eventually, mercifully, dinner was over.