I stood against the door to Tejus’s room. My flesh was prickling with goosebumps and my heart was racing.
Had I heard correctly? I still couldn’t quite believe that I had. Because if I had, that meant that Tejus had just committed an act completely devoid of selfishness. I had waited outside the door of the council chambers, and I had heard his speech. I had heard the sound of a man standing up for what he believed in, against all the odds, against every single instinct that his upbringing had instilled in him.
He had changed.
He had become the man I’d known he could be.
I heard his sure-footed approach from the corridor. He must have left his ministers to dispute over the outcome without him.
I jumped away from the door. It swung open a second later, and Tejus stood in its frame, looking murderous.
“Why didn’t you go to the human quarters like I told you to?” he barked at me.
I smiled at him softly. He could no longer aggravate me with his commands—they were for my safety, and I knew that he prioritized that above most things. Tejus and I still had a lot to learn about each other, but of some things I was sure. Tejus was a good man, and he could say and do things to try to dissuade me and the rest of the world of that fact, but I would no longer be fooled.
And I couldn’t stay silent a moment longer. Tejus had to know how I felt—and that I would no longer be accepting his refusal.
I opened my mouth, and tried to speak.
I couldn’t.
What? No…not now!
I tried again, watching confusion pass through Tejus’s expression. No matter how hard I tried, not a sound would come out.
The pestilence of silence.
Now?!
I could have screamed. Of all the times the final apocalyptic warning could have picked to show up… Instead, I watched Tejus try to speak, trying as I had and failing. The rest of the castle had fallen completely silent too—there were no faint mutterings of the ministers, no yells and commands from the servants’ quarters, no crying or complaining from the kids in the human quarters. It was like a blanket had been placed over the world, settling it into sleep.
There are other ways to communicate.
I approached Tejus. He stood still, watching me closely. As I got closer, I could see that his heart was pounding, and that every muscle in his body had tensed—as if he was readying himself for battle, to fight off his enemies, to conquer. But there was nothing left for him to fight. Not tonight, anyway.
I took both his hands in mine. He frowned down at me, unsure. I smiled, and pushed out my mind toward his. I saw understanding dawn on his face, and he latched onto the energy that I was offering. Our minds started to entwine, the golden rope appearing, seeming like it was lengthening rather than thickening—and in my mind I saw it start to entwine our bodies together, its glow lighting up our skin and pushing us closer together.
I sent him the memory of standing outside the door, listening to his speech to the ministers. I pushed my feelings toward him—my love and determination.
I love you, Tejus. Don’t refuse me anymore. Please surrender. Give us a chance.
His eyes softened as he looked down toward mine. I no longer had any idea if we were in the mind meld or not. He drew me closer to him, his arms sliding around my waist. Then images started to flicker in my mind.
Oh…wow.
They were his memories. The day I arrived in Nevertide, my face enraged and yelling at him; my fear of jumping over the last stone during the labyrinth trial; holding me after our victory at the disk trial; my face lighting up when he first showed me the library; peering up from the bottom of the temple; the first time he’d seen me in the gown I’d worn to his coronation; smiling at him in the firelight on the night of the ice fires; then our first kiss.
You love me.
His lips met mine, and the memories melted away. I kissed him back, my hands running up his chest. The mind-meld broke. The room—the tapestries, the velvet sofas, the books and swords—all should have come rushing back into focus, but all I saw was Tejus.
I broke the kiss, panting. His eyes held a question, but, speechless, I had to show him what I wanted. With trembling fingers, I undid the button at the top of his shirt. His hands moved over mine, stilling them.
His expression looked troubled, but I gently removed his hands from mine.
This is what I want.
I moved down to the next button, my movements surer now. I didn’t want to give him another excuse to stop me—he had to know how I felt, and this was the way I wanted to show him, with my body, with my touch. All of me.
I ran my fingers across his chest, and I felt his breath hitch. The scars were still there, jagged spikes across his smooth, pale skin. I gently eased his shirt backward off his shoulders, exposing his collarbone and fully exposing the broadness of his frame.