Page 162 of The Chains You Defy

“Do you think the High King found out that we wanted to leave tonight? His timing feels too intentional.”

“Very likely. He is a master of unearthing secrets, particularly those you want to keep from him at all costs.”

“Gods, none of this is good, especially—”

“Especially?”

“We’re wasting so much time. We should be out there being productive; instead, we’re trapped in Alaiann. Whatever happens to the worlds is continuing while we’re hiding from a mad king who might be pushing for the destruction we’re fighting to prevent.”

“Even though admitting this pains me, your observation is astute. I hoped to find proof, but there is none. My brother is keeping his affairs so very close to his chest, misinformation runs rampant through the High Court, and everything we scraped together are vague rumors and gut feelings. As soon as Dion is back, we will leave Alaiann. If you are already off court by then, we will pick you up and figure out our path from there. Cannot say I missed traveling around blind.”

“Your dreams?”

“Silent for weeks.”

“Fuck.”

“You have acquired quite a mouth.”

“Dion’s fault.” Despite the dire situation, I grinned at Antas, and he chuckled in return.

“How is the courtship going?”

Antas’ sudden question caught me off guard, and I blushed. Memories pushed to the forefront of my mind, and the soreness between my legs was a constant reminder of what I’d done. Dion had left me a letter mentioning bath salts, but I hadn’t taken the time to check them out—I could vividly imagine his scowl at that. But with him gone for only the gods knew how long—I preferred letting nature run its course. Just like his last note, that I felt him with every move was a memento I didn’t want to miss.

But before I explained any of that to Antas, I’d rather perish. “Good. Dion is showering me with thoughtful gifts every morning.” Picking up the book on Ivreian history he’d left me today, I rested my gaze on the precious tome. “Although this is the last one for a while, I assume. But I don’t mind. Presents are nice, but nothing he has to do.”

“He will loathe the forced break. To interrupt the Second Act of Courtship while the rite is ongoing is considered bad manners.” Antas picked up my treasured book, flicked through the pages, and then inserted a bookmark between two sheets. “You might find this chapter interesting.”

“You fae really have some rigid convictions, which is quite the juxtaposition, given you’re such an instinctualand, in some cases more than in others, almost primal species. And thanks, I’ll read that part first.”

“Our customs must seem strange to you, but they will make more sense the longer you are around fae. There are many rites, even some daily ones everyone conducts in private. But the Rite of Courting is special. Two people finding each other and swearing eternal devotion is extremely rare because doing so contradicts our nature, which is a lot more free-spirited. So, when such a deep connection is established, the occurrence is cherished. Celebrated. Shouted out to the world.”

“You had a wife, right? Did you court her too?”

“Yes, I did. And I live with the knowledge I failed her and our daughter every day.”

Antas’ usually stoic face was marked with anguish, and seeing him in pain hurt me in my bones. “Why do you blame yourself?”

“Because I could not protect them. My family died because I was not close enough to save them.”

“What happened?”

“I cannot go back. Not now. If I lose myself in the past, I will not be able to function properly. One day, Naya.”

“Of course.” I was the last person who would force someone’s buried trauma to the front. “But don’t condemn yourself. Nobody can be around someone else all the time.”

“You have to understand something, Nayana. When one of us loves, we do so without any restraint. As I told you, and you experienced by now, fae are very possessive, obsessive, and territorial in general. But once deep emotions come into play, those traits manifold aplenty. And in your special case, I can only add that my grandnephew is anextreme example.”

My throat tightened with every single one of Antas’ words, but especially when he hinted at the potential nature of Dion’s feelings. Even after yesterday, I still wasn’t comfortable that the prince was under the impression his temporary infatuation was more than just a passing fancy.

“He mentioned he never had something that was truly his.”

“One of the reasons he is clinging to you that hard, if you ask me.”

“He can be suffocating.”

“Yet you are handling the situation well. I have seen humans who bathed and drowned in the affection of their fae lovers, which rarely ended on a positive note. But you challenge Dion. You do not accept what annoys you, and that is what he needs. As contradictory as this sounds, Nayana, there is more freedom for you to be with him than with one of your own. Sure, fae—especially males, but females as well—crave to possess their partners, but are human men not the same, and is their greed not backed up by Ivreian law? The difference is that we also want our beloved to thrive. You just have to be vocal and stand up for yourself.”