Page 3 of Between Two Kings

The carriage door opened, and Tem accepted the hand offered to her. The stars were bright overhead, the last sliver of the harvest moon glowing beneath the freckled sky. She stared up at the castle’s foreboding turrets, dreading what came next. No part of her wanted to walk inside those doors. This was no longer her home.

Now it was Evelyn’s.

Tem paused before the entrance, her hand on the doorknob. Was Leo on the other side? Was Evelyn? He’d told her to come alone—did that mean he would be alone too? When she opened the door, however, Leo was not on the other side. Instead, Lord Chamberlain greeted her with a subdued smile.

“Temperance,” he said calmly. “How are you this evening?”

“Oh,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m fine.”

He nodded. “Please, follow me.”

Tem did so, following him through the foyer and into the parlor, where Lord Chamberlain gave her a curt nod and bowed as he left the room. Tem wondered about the formality. Did her status as queen of the basilisks give her some respect in the royal castle? Or did he merely pity her for what was to come?

Tem needed a drink.

She scanned the room for alcohol, her eyes landing on a golden tray holding a faceted crystal bottle filled with whiskey. She crossed to it immediately, pouring herself a healthy dose and downing the entire thing. The liquor settled her nerves, but just barely. The parlor was hot; suddenly the stupid robe was too tight.

Tem looked up at the paintings on the walls. Dozens of faces stared back at her—all royals, all long dead. It was clear that Leo’s icy-blond hair had been passed down through generations. Even when his male ancestors had married brunette women, the children somehow ended up blond. Her eyes traveled over the sea of angular faces, seeing Leo in every single one. One man had Leo’s slate-gray eyes, another his thin, elegant fingers. Finally, she spotted Maximus.

Tem crossed to his portrait, still clutching her whiskey glass. The former king was standing in what looked like the library the Frisky Sixty ceremony had taken place in. A thick golden cuff glinted on his wrist. Tem wondered where Maximus was now, whether Leo had allowed him to roam free or imprisoned him for his crimes. Before she could follow that thought, someone cleared their throat. Tem whipped around at the sound.

There, in the doorway, stood Leo.

He looked just the same. Tall, slender, wearing an impeccably tailored velvet suit. His hair was just as she remembered it, white blond and slicked back. For some reason, Tem had expected him to look different—older, somehow. But the only thing that had changed was his eyes. They were hooded, as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly. Tem didn’t want to think about what could be keeping him up at night. He was wearing a wedding ring, and she wondered suddenly whether it was the same one he’d married her with. Tem still wore hers—she hadn’t taken it off since their wedding. Surely, he would ask for it back. The thought killed her.

“Tem.”

Just her name, but something inside her awoke at the sound of his voice—something impossible to ignore.

“Leo.”

Just his in return.

Tem remembered Caspen holding her and Leo’s heads together, sealing their bond with a kiss. She wanted to kiss him again now. Tem immediately suppressed the thought. Leo was not hers anymore. Not only did he belong to someone else, but Tem herself had told him to go. She didn’t feel as though she was allowed to miss him when she was the one who had sent him away in the first place.

Leo’s eyes traveled over her, lingering on the diabolically low neckline of her robe.

Tem set her whiskey down, afraid she might drop it.

“Thank you for coming.” His tone was oddly formal. She couldn’t stand it. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Tem frowned. “Why?”

He tilted his head. “Because you’re…with him.”

Tem didn’t know how to respond to that. Just because she was with Caspen didn’t mean she was going to ignore Leo’s existence. She was the one who’d made him promise they would see each other again.

“I’ll always come when you call,” she said quietly.

He didn’t reply. Tem rather wished she’d had more to drink, but perhaps it was better this way. There was no telling what she would do if she was drunk. Even without the influence of alcohol, she felt uncommonly warm. And every time she looked at Leo, she only felt warmer.

“Are you…?” Leo began but stopped.

“Am I what?” she prompted.

“Happy?”

It was an impossible question. How to answer? Of course she was happy with Caspen—she always had been. But part of her yearned for Leo—ached for him. It was a part as real and as prominent as the part that loved Caspen. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t control it. It simply was. Rather than answer, Tem decided to ask him the same question in return: