Filed to story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
“They have likely already made it. I will speak with my father today.”
“But what happens if-“
“Tem,” he said gently, pulling her closer. “Enough. There is nothing more you can do.”
She fell silent, content simply to breathe for a while. It felt good to lie there, to do nothing but feel Caspen’s arms around her.
His lips were right by her ear, and he murmured, “Can I do anything for you?”
Tem considered the request. Caspen had never asked that of her before, and she was not quite sure how to answer. Instead of speaking, she pressed her palm flat against his chest, trailing her fingers slowly down his torso.
Caspen grasped her hand, stopping her before she could go any lower. “Anything but that, Tem.”
Shame shot through her. “Do you not want me?” she whispered.
“Of course I want you.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “I am merely following tradition.”
“Not more tradition,” Tem groaned.
Caspen chuckled softly. “This one is quite tame. We are not to sleep together the day after the ritual.”
“Oh.”
For once, a reasonable tradition. “In that case, I should get back to the farm.”
Tem tried to sit up, but Caspen’s arms tightened around her. “Be still,” he said. “You need to rest.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
His mouth twitched. “You are stubborn.”
They lay in silence for a moment longer.
But Tem could not remain here forever. It was true she had to return to the farm; otherwise, her mother would worry. Beyond that, there was still something else to contend with.
The ball.
Tem found it odd that Caspen hadn’t brought up the event or the fact that she may very well be moving into the castle by the end of the week. Surely, that would have some impact on their engagement. Surely, he cared.
“Caspen,” she said slowly, her breath against his cheek.
“Tem.”
“What will happen to us?”
“When?”
Tem shot him a look. She was sure he knew what she meant but had avoided the truth on purpose. Tem clarified anyway. “When the prince chooses who will move into the castle.”
“He will choose you.”
The question he answered was not the question she had asked. Tem felt a twinge of annoyance at his evasion. “How can you be sure?”
Caspen smiled sadly. “Because you are perfect.”
“If I am perfect, it’s because you made me that way.”
Caspen cupped her chin gently in his hand, looking her in the eye as he said, “You were already perfect.”
They were beautiful words. But Tem would not be seduced by them.
“Answer the question. What will happen to us?”
Caspen sat up. Tem sat up too, her hand on the great slope of his shoulder, their lips inches apart. When she studied his face, she couldn’t help but compare it to Bastian’s. She could see how Caspen would eventually age-where his cheekbones would sharpen and his hair would tint with silver.
“I do not know what will happen,” he said finally. “My quiver must accept you first. If they do, we can discuss what comes next.”
“I want to discuss it now.”
Caspen stood, crossing to the fireplace. Tem remained on the bed, watching him as he stared into the flames. The muscles in his back rolled as he crossed his arms.
He turned to face her. “When the prince chooses you, you will move into the castle with the final two girls.”
“What?”
Tem had expected him to fight for her-to insist that she drop out of the competition.
His eyes held hers as he continued. “You will go to the castle, and you will stay there until the prince decides to marry you.”
“But why?”
He turned back to the fire.
Tem stood, crossing to him. “Why did you make me go through the ritual if you have no intention of being with me?”
“I have every intention of being with you, Tem. But my world is dangerous.”
“That’s always been the case.”
“Tem.” His voice dropped. “I am dangerous.”
The ritual had been traumatic for Tem. But it occurred to her suddenly that it might have been just as traumatic for Caspen. He was the one who had to look at her shattered body and know he was the one who broke her.
She touched his arm. “I’m fine, Caspen.”
He placed his hand over hers. “A healed wound still bears a scar.”
Tem understood what he was saying-that although he had healed her body, the memory of the ritual would surely haunt both of them for a long time. But it was over; they had done it. There was no going back. There was only the future, and Tem needed to know how they would spend it.
“Are we never to be together?”
Caspen’s grip tightened. “There are circumstances surrounding our union that you cannot comprehend.”
“So explain them.”
“Tem,” he sighed. “I do not-“
“Wish to discuss this?” she cut him off, pushing him away. “I never want to hear that from you again. You will discuss anything I request of you, and you will do it right now.”
Caspen sighed.