“I love seeing this statue, though,” I add. “It's a reminder that they had a beautiful friendship long ago.”

Leon watches me carefully. His fingers lace with mine and he brings the back of my hand up for a light kiss. “I’m sorry Alvina was exiled and that your family suffered so much for it.”

He kisses my hand again and this time his lips linger there, his gaze above sympathetic. The breath has left my lungs. His lips are so soft and I miss them when he guides my hand back down, but when he tries to unlock our fingers, I weave them back together, not willing to let him go so soon.

I lead him away from the painful past and over to my hope for the future.

He marvels at the garden, the rich colors of the blossoms and the plump leaves, and silently watches the gossamer-winged, lavender butterflies flutter around the flowers, drinking of their delicacies. We walk to the wooden planter box that holds the anafaea flower.

“These are most of the ingredients we need to make the elixir. Tavien says they need to mature a bit, but hopefully it’ll be a reality soon.” We both sit down on the low edge of another planter a few feet from where the anafaea grows in swirls, and he places our joined hands on his lap.

“How long have Tavien and Nueena been married?”

My heart lurches, knowing I have to explain Zemras, and I try to keep the longing off my face as I explain. “We don’t have husbands or wives here in the way that mortals do. Mates are the term we use for someone who is in a committed relationship. It’s a term of respect and claiming. You must be together for a long time before you can state someone is your mate. They don’t always last forever because fae lives are long, but it’s mourned when it ends and meant to be a permanent union.”

“So they are mates?”

“Yes, in a way, but so much more than that, they are Zemras. A deeper, stronger bond than a mating claim, a soulbonding of eternal union. It’s veiled in secrecy, but if you truly believe that someone is your Zemra, your soulbonded mate, there is a place you can go. It has age restrictions and laws, consequences for even attempting to find it without the blessings of your courts’ Guardians. Impossible to find without the knowledge of the Zemra guides who take mates to the hidden temple.”

No longer able to hold Leon’s gaze, I look up to the sky and watch the birds soar leisurely overhead. I close my eyes and relish the warmth of the sun on my face before continuing, “If you and your mate are granted access to the temple and you have a chance to prove that you are truly soulbonded mates, your souls are forged together. Zemra soulbonds exist to connect two fae souls on an eternally deeper level for paramount emotional, spiritual, and physical intimacy. Zemras can feel each other’s panic or joy, whichis amplified directly through the crystals they wear. Any strong emotion Nueena feels, Tavien does too, even states of mind. If she’s hungry or tired, he can sense it. They can even share pain, so one is not a burden. Power can be exchanged over time.”

The weight of Leon’s gaze on me is heavy, and when I can no longer ignore his eyes on me, I turn my back to him.

“Is that something you desire?” he whispers, tracing his thumb along my hand.

I laugh, but it’s a bitter and broken sound. “Courting is taken peculiarly seriously here. Fae men often highly desire to continue a strong family line. Powerful babies are needed to ensure that. Magic is passed down through birth to dewling; the more powerful the mother, the more powerful the offspring. I’m only half-fae, so it wouldn’t work for me, not that anyone has wished to try. My power is rare, yes, but I do not possess much of it.”

He places my hand in his and brings it to his lips. “Izadella, you are so much more than your magic.”

Emotion swims in me. “I know, but more than that, I will only live a few hundred years. I’d be lucky to reach five hundred before the mortal part of me dies. The fae were once nearly immortal when the magic flowed freely, before the crown stole so much magic from us. Now their lifespans are shorter, but not nearly as short as mine. Any mating claim with me would forge promises of torment for the male, condemning him to grieve long after I’m dust even if we never chose to see if we were Zemras. I probably lack the necessary amount of magic to even attempt to enter the temple. Never seemed worth it. To be with someone, knowing I will end up hurting them in the end. Why would I be worth that type of pain?”

He drops my hand as if burned and stands up, the sun behind him blinding me to his emotions. “Is that what you think will happen with me?”

I repeat the question in my head and try to come up with an answer. When I stay silent, he goes on.

“So you do not wish for someone to mourn you, and that is the reason you deny yourself a chance at love? You think a lack ofmagic determines your fate?” He’s not angry when he says it. His words carry an undercurrent of anguish. “Forget the crown; forget how magic affects mortals. Say it was just you and I, with nothing but time to stand in our way. If the roles were reversed, and you were the mortal and it was I who would live long after you, would you still tell me it’s not worth it? That you weren’t worth mourning? Should I simply focus on the elixir and leave as soon as I am able to save you any heartache? I can. I will. I do not wish to cause you a moment of pain. Only if that’s whatyoudesire. Is that what you want?”

I gape at him as he lowers himself gingerly and pushes my thighs apart, kneeling between them.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I sound small and pathetic even to my own ears, being torn in so many ways, saddled with too many burdens to think clearly.

He sighs and moves to stand, but I pull him down again. I’m desperate for him to understand me. My fingernails dig into him, and only the thick material of his tunic stops me from drawing blood.

“Listen to me,” I say. “You have been my silly little infatuation for the past two years. I have worn my best dresses, spent endless hours working on your every commission so it would be perfect, and repeated our conversations over and over again before I fell asleep.”

His eyes are wide, and he pulls me closer as I spill my secret longings at his feet.

“Once, you left your wine glass on my table and I kept it. Nueena and Tavien teased me mercilessly about it for weeks on end. When any male did show interest in me, even for a meaningless lust-filled night, I turned them down because it never felt right. I thought you were forever unattainable, nothing more than a gift I got every full moon, even if everything I said to you was a lie, because it felt unbelievably real, this tether between us. I was prepared to harbor these feelings, hide them away for years.”

Leon pulls me closer to him, and now it’s his fingers that diginto me as I continue to pour out too much of myself, leaving my tattered emotions bare to him.

“Yet you are here and everything has gone wrong and I feel like I cannot breathe properly when I am torn apart on the inside from wanting you and wanting to protect what little of my heart you don’t already possess. I don’t know how to save you from the fate my father met. Seeing you driven mad just for us to have a painfully short time together would break me. So, please, do not ask me what I would do in a different situation because I do not feel like I will survive this one.” My breaths are shallow and rough, the tightness in my head returning.

Nothing in the garden has changed around us. The butterflies continue their gliding path around us, the gentle breeze caresses the flowers, and yet something has shifted between us, irrevocably altered.

His hands slip from my waist and he cups my face with such tender care I want to weep.

“I understand. I just couldn’t stand the thought that you believed yourself unworthy of anything.” He pulls me forward and his soft lips are pressed into my forehead. The gesture is sweet and loving, unburdened with all the complications I carry. “We need not worry about it today. I just want…no, Ineedyou to know that any amount of time with you would be worth it—isworth it, and you were never alone in your midnight infatuations. The days leading up to the bazaar were agony for me, waiting to see you again. Erenia once tried to suffocate me with a pillow in the middle of tea when I spent an entire afternoon talking about you. She had to listen to me wonder what type of cheese you liked, how you might like your tea, and if you preferred the sea or the mountains.”