Filed To Story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
He knew just as well as Tem that the time for shielding her had passed. She was in this now, and she deserved to know everything. There would be no more secrets between them. Tem needed the truth, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less ever again.
“I have earned the right to honesty, Caspen.”
His eyes met hers. “That you have.”
It was still a long moment before he spoke. But finally, he said, “Things are…difficult at the moment between the quivers.”
“Difficult how?”
“There are whispers of a coup.”
“Against the king?”
Caspen nodded. “Yes. And by extension, myself.”
“You?”
“I am the one who crested Rowe’s father. I paved the way for my own father to be king.”
“If you know there’s going to be a coup, why don’t you do something about it?”
“We are doing something about it. There is a council meeting tonight. My father will try to make peace.”
“How?”
“The coup is not the only circumstance at play. The quivers have always had their troubles, but we are nonetheless united against a common enemy.”
He didn’t have to specify who that enemy was. Tem already knew.
Caspen continued. “My father has a plan to overthrow the royals. He hopes by doing so, it will quell the rebellion within our own ranks. If the Drakons are the ones to defeat the humans, the Senecas will fall in line.”
Tem felt a dull stab of fear and realized it was for Leo. There was already friction between the basilisks and the humans. If Bastian planned on fueling that friction into fire, the human prince would be the obvious target.
“And what exactly is your father’s plan?”
“The answer to that is…complicated.”
“Why?”
“Because it involves you.”
Tem blinked. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“But how?”
Caspen reached for her waist. It was not a gentle grip; he held her as if he was afraid she might run away. He stared into her eyes for a long moment before asking softly, “Have you ever wondered why you cannot lie, Tem?”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Even when the situation demands it-even when your life depends on it-you always tell the truth. Am I wrong?”
Tem scoffed. “Of course I don’t like lying. Nobody does.”
“It is not that you do not like to lie. You cannot.”
Tem thought about all the times she had lied and how difficult it had been for her. How her throat had tightened, how she could barely get the words out. She thought about when Leo had asked her if she loved Caspen. How her answer had physically pained her.
Caspen pulled her closer. “Lying is nearly impossible for a basilisk. It costs us something to do so.”
She stared up at Caspen, who was looking down at her as if he were bracing for impact. “Why are you saying this to me?” she whispered.
“Twenty years ago, a girl left the training process. She was pregnant by her basilisk.”
Tem already knew where this was going. She knew it in her bones. Yet she whispered, “No.”
“Yes,” Caspen insisted. “Yes, Tem.”
Tem wanted to block her ears-wanted to do anything but hear the next thing that came out of Caspen’s mouth.
“Your mother is the one who left.”
“That’s impossible.”
Even as Tem said it, she recalled the conversation she’d had with her mother mere days ago:
“Why did you leave Father?”
“I left him because we could not be together.”
“Why not?”
“His family would not allow it.”
Tem had assumed that meant her father’s family had looked down on their occupation. But now she wondered if it meant that her mother had faced the same obstacles Tem had-the same ritual. Perhaps her basilisk hadn’t been as supportive as Caspen was. Perhaps he had cast her out. Or perhaps his quiver hadn’t even given her mother a chance to prove herself the way the Drakons had. Her mother had gone on to be a chicken farmer, to surround herself with roosters, the one thing that would protect her from snakes. She’d done everything she could to ensure she would never get hurt again.
Tem stared straight ahead at Caspen’s chest. “Are you saying you know my father?” she whispered.
A weighted pause. “Yes.”
Rage coiled within her. “Where is he? Is he here?”
Caspen shook his head. “No, Tem. He…went missing.”
Tem’s heart nearly stopped. She remembered the memorial-the etched names of the basilisks kept deep beneath the castle, the prisoners who were forced to give their blood so the royals could maintain their riches. She remembered the voice she’d heard in the castle, the one crying for help.
Her father.
“But I’m human, Caspen. Look at me.” Tem gestured at herself. “I’m human.”
“You only appear that way, Tem.”
She gestured at him.
“You appear that way too.”
“My human form is simply an illusion. It does not mean I am part human.”
Tem burrowed her face in her hands. It was all too much. She couldn’t imagine herself as anything other than human.