Page 16

Chapter Sixteen

T he journey back to Naohm blurred into a mix of sunrises and twilight skies, with days spent trekking through forests and rocky paths and nights huddled around campfires. The rhythm of it all was oddly comforting, even as I carried the weight of the fae king’s words.

What surprised me most, though, was Caelum’s quiet competence in the wilderness. He didn’t seem like a prince out of his element. Quite the opposite, in fact. Like a truly seasoned explorer, he found us safe havens to sleep, sought out berries and nuts that were edible, and even caught us dinner occasionally with traps he made from sticks and vines.

I might’ve helped more if I wasn’t so busy being quietly impressed.

One evening, as we sat around a small fire, I watched him carve slices from a rabbit he’d trapped earlier, his movements unhurried and precise. He caught my gaze and raised an eyebrow. “See something interesting?”

“Only a rare sighting of the crown prince of Eyre cooking for himself,” I said, unable to hide my smirk.

He chuckled, tossing a few of the meat slices onto a flat stone at the edge of the fire to cook. “Not so bad for a highborn rake. Right, Tempest?”

I smiled, remembering when I’d called him that. The tension present when we’d first met in Naohm had eased, and in its place, an easy camaraderie had developed between us, one that was far more natural than anything we’d shared back at the council hall. The flames cast a delicate glow over his face, his blue eyes catching the firelight as he turned back to the cooking.

“Not bad at all,” I murmured.

Emboldened by the quiet intimacy of the moment, I found one question lingering on my tongue, an unquenchable curiosity clawing at my chest. “Speaking of being a rake...of all the preconceived ideas I had about you, you’ve proven me wrong except on that point. So, it’s true, then? You’ve been with countless women?”

He stared into the fire a few moments before answering. “I cannot lie to you, Eedy. There have been...quite a few.”

Jealousy strangled my heart. Good. This was good for me to hear.

“It became a bad habit of having my cake and eating it too,” he continued, his eyes shut and his face void of emotion, like he was watching the scene play out in his head, “I liked women. I definitely liked the sex, and, with someone always in my bed, my uncle would stay away. It was a win-win.”

He smiled tightly, his eyes fluttering open as a deep crease formed over his brow.

“So, the healer in Naohm then too?” It felt like pushing on a fresh wound to ask it.

“Ah, yes, her,” he said with a half-smile. “Actually, she was there to heal me, not for...well, anything else.”

I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms, waiting for him to elaborate since I’d obviously witnessed his own healing capabilities.

He sighed, noting my stubborn silence. “My skin heals quickly on its own now, but there are still times, especially in the colder temperature, when the pain gets into my bones. Magical healers can soothe the ache, temporarily, at least. I didn’t correct you because”—he paused, a faint grin tugging at his mouth—“well, I was having fun with how furious it made you.”

“I wasn’t furious,” I argued, heat rushing to my cheeks.

He arched a lone eyebrow at me from across the flames.

“And there were no fae in Velarune that you entertained before the revelry? You didn’t have to trade anything to swipe that sword?” I interrogated, ignoring how heated my words sounded.

He plopped a juicy piece of the cooked rabbit on a plate before sauntering over to my side of the fire. Handing it to me, he sat down, his hip and thigh brushing against mine. My mind went hazy at his proximity, his pine and leather scent mixing with the lingering smoke; I wanted to throw my dinner on the ground and devour him instead.

I gripped the plate like my life depended on it as he turned to face me. He was so close; I could see every sparse freckle, every thin line around his eyes from all the smug grinning he did.

“I haven’t been with anyone since my uncle made the arrangements for my engagement,” he murmured, holding my stare with sincerity. “I want to be a loyal person, Eedy, I just”—he ran a hand through his disheveled blond hair—“I only have the books I’ve read to know what that’s like. My father knows everything my uncle has done to me. He doesn’t care. Argued it would make me a stronger king. My mother hates my father so much; she’s usually off at our summer house. I’ve barely seen her.”

I set the plate of meat to the side, never breaking eye contact with him. He was crumbling open and spilling his darkest secrets in front of me, and I didn’t want to miss a single moment.

“I never know who I can trust,” he continued, “because so many see me as a means to an end, a pawn to use to get what they want. I haven’t had anyone be truly loyal to me . Only for what I might provide them.

“But you...” He raised a tentative hand, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. His hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the edge from my ear to my jaw, making me shiver. “You have shown me nothing but honesty, Tempest. And so, I believe every word that comes out of your pretty mouth”—he smirked—“no matter how scathing.”

I was breathless with need from his words, from his gentle touch, his openness to my stormy nature. I couldn’t move, and I wanted to scream when he lowered his hand away from my face.

“You wanted the truth,” he said, sighing. “And there it is. The truth is you were mostly right: I was a rake. Now, I’m somewhat of a reformed rake that is bound to someone I have no interest in. In the end, I have no choice in who my life and body go to.”

His words hung between us, a solemnity in his tone I hadn’t expected. He turned back to the fire, poking at it with a nearby stick.

“You do not want to be with your betrothed?” I said, squeezing my hands together, trying to hold at bay the growing pressure near my heart. “Does she not suit you? I imagine she’s rich and beautiful...”

He scoffed. “She suits me perfectly fine,” he replied, but he struggled with the follow-up. “I’ve only met her once, but she seems like a wonderful person. Very...warm and kind?—”

“Caelum,” I interrupted, “speak plainly. I won’t be tattling on you to anyone.”

“She...it’s not...I would be bored, Eedy,” he finally confessed. “I’d be trapped in a life with no edge. It would be nothing like this .” He met my gaze, the firelight making his blue eyes appear deeper, darker. “Nothing like talking to you, with your sharp mind and even sharper tongue. You challenge me, keep me on my toes. You’re unpredictable and completely unforgiving of any misstep.”

“Hah,” I huffed, kicking around some dirt with my boot. “Sounds like a match made in the godlands!”

“Honestly, Eedy, I cannot get enough of it.”

The air grew thick with the weight of his declaration. I could feel the steady rhythm of my heart quickening, an ache unfurling in my chest that I didn’t dare acknowledge. Caelum’s gaze was unyielding, his usual levity nowhere to be found.

“Not that you’d ever feel the same way, I imagine,” he added with a wry smile. “Rake or not, I can still be quite a lot for some people.”

I opened my mouth, but the words died on my tongue. Because even though I yearned to tell him I knew exactly how he felt, I knew better. Once we made it back and—somehow—came up with a solution to stop the fae from stealing the magic, he would leave, returning to the life that waited for him, with all its bindings and expectations.

Despite what we might feel for each other, it was against the law for a royal to marry into magic. The magical healing ability that had been given to him would need to be kept hidden. Secret. And beyond that, it was a fairytale to imagine them ever allowing a witch to sit on the throne as his queen.

No matter what the prince of Eyre felt for me now, one day he would marry another. And when that happened, my heart would bear the price.

So, I stilled my face of any emotion, looking away from his intense gaze. “I wouldn’t say that. Maybe in the beginning you were irritable, but you’ve surprised me a lot these past few weeks. You have a lot of...useful qualities,” I said, keeping my tone light, hoping he wouldn’t hear the tremor beneath it. “Maybe your betrothed will also surprise you.”

The words were bricks leaving my mouth, but it must be said. I couldn’t change his circumstances for him, just like he couldn’t change mine.

“Maybe,” Caelum said softly, returning his attention to the cooking.

I hated how a small voice settled inside of me, insisting, maybe not.