Page 41 of Avaritia

“Will it survive in here?” Verity asked, running her dainty finger over the smooth glass. She was so distracting with her… gentleness. No one or nothing in my life had ever been as delicate as she was, both as a being and in how she treated other things.

“I believe so,” I replied belatedly, remembering she’d asked me a question. “It’s a compact space. The reason it can’t spread into either realm is that there is too much space and too much light, the darkness dies, for lack of a better term. It rapidly expands, and before long it’s spread too thin and dissipates.”

“Is the in-between not a big place then?” Verity frowned, probably thinking back on her own journeys through it.

“It’s difficult to explain.” My grasp of human languages was excellent, but some concepts were still hard to translate. “You would be better served not thinking of it as a place, but living, malleable, interconnected matter. For Shades, folding and adjusting that matter to get to where we want to go is second nature.”

For me, the way that Verity’s kind navigated the in-between was far stranger than my method.

“And you managed to capture some in this tiny ball?” Verity asked, looking up at me, a small smile playing around her mouth. “You’re pretty freaking smart, you know that?”

“Of course I know that.”

She grinned. “And what are you planning on doing with it?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“You did all that work for nothing?” she asked, her tone slightly disbelieving.

“At this stage, I have no use for it.” I gestured at the shelves of half-finished and abandoned projects behind me. “Sometimes, an experiment is just an experiment. An exercise to test the bounds of what is possible. I wanted to see if I could capture a minuscule amount of caspite and contain it without it spreading, and now I know that I can. Keep it, if you like. A trinket for you.”

“Really?” Verity beamed up at me, her eyes lighting up in a most intriguing way. Her scent sweetened, not quite in the way of arousal, but something nearly as tantalizing. Was she so easily pleased? It was very little effort for me to provide her with small gifts like this.

So little effort for a smile that was so very rewarding. Enchanting, even. Was it any wonder that I kept losing my head wherever Verity was concerned? Her brightness was so very disorienting.

“Yes, of course. It’s yours.”

“I wonder if I can attach it to a necklace or something,” she murmured, admiring it once more. “It’s so cool.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that? That was far more impressive as far as gifts went.

“Sit,” I instructed, gesturing at the bench seat while I crossed over to my metal working station, setting the orb down in a nest of fabric so it didn’t roll away. There were piles of silver chains on the bench, mostly remnants of jewelry that I’d found around the manor over the years. Things left by forgetful guests back when this had served as a palace, or items my mother had discarded. She didn’t mind—she’d always been very encouraging of my endeavors.

The fire was always going in this room, but I stoked it higher to heat the solder, before hunting through my collection of broken pieces to find something that would suit.

“This is such a next-level man cave,” Verity said, picking through the assortment of scrap metal on the table.

“Don’t touch that, you’ll cut yourself,” I chided. “And I’m not a man, nor is this a cave. It is a workshop.”

“Same difference.” Her absolute refusal to be afraid of me was disconcerting. Not that I wanted her to be afraid of me, necessarily. She just… should have been. “Have you always been into inventing and stuff?”

“Not always. When I was young, I lived at my father’s court full-time, training with the expectation of one day inheriting the throne. Allerick is ten years younger than me. It was only as he grew older that I had… time, for such frivolities as this.”

“When he showed signs of perhaps becoming king one day?” Verity asked tentatively.

I never talked about it. Everyone in my life knew better than to bring the subject up. And yet, the idea of silencing Verity was untenable.

“Yes. There are signs of a great capacity for power in young children—the ability to ‘hold’ extensive power without needing to siphon or risk growing ill. The royal line has been cultivated with that great capacity for power in mind. The monarch functions as a power source for much of the realm. Eventually, as was to be expected, Allerick challenged me for my position as heir. Clearly, I lost. He’s not that much stronger than me,” I added, only slightly bitterly.

Given the age difference, I should have won easily. But Allerick had exhibited better restraint in our challenge. Better control. I’d lost my temper and burned out by throwing everything I had into it, and he’d been the last one standing.

The shame I felt at my lack of self-control haunted me to this day. That was not something I ever discussed.

“Did you have to challenge Damen too?”

I stiffened slightly, busying myself with the solder and the assortment of silver I’d found. “Yes.”

I hated even hearing his name on her lips. There was no possible way that Damen didn’t want Verity for himself. Damen was unattached, and Verity was too perfect, too vibrant, too interesting for him not to want to steal her away for himself.

---