Page 138 of Fear the Flames
“Yes,” Ryder answers. “I checked before we left the room.”
“Who killed them?” Saskia asks.
“Eagor,” Cayden raises his hand.
“Valia,” Finnian raises his.
“How much retaliation do you think we’ll get for the coup?” I look toward Saskia.
She gnaws on her bottom lip, contemplating and weighing theories in the vast void of her mind. “Most of the people already preferred Cayden. Politically, we may face some challenges, but I don’t think it will amount to anything we can’t handle as long as you’re both committed rulers and committed to each other. The way the events happened tonight made it seem like the coup was based on love rather than treachery. We need to announce the…engagement soon. We must be the ones to break the news in a formal statement to make it seem like you’re overjoyed.”
“Do you think people will believe it’s an authentic engagement?” I ask.
“There have been rumors about the two of you since you came to Vareveth, and the marriage clause isn’t exactly unknown. The Dasterians and their advisors were just ignorant,” Saskia says. I nod my head. I think Cayden and I fought wanting each other for so long because we knew we were inevitable. Most alliances are secured with marriage. Cayden and I are two eerily similar people; it only seems fitting that we end up together.
“I need a few minutes alone with Elowen,” Cayden states. Finnian stiffens beside me. Saskia and Ryder look between the two of us, wondering what the best option is.
“Fine,” I mutter, cutting across the circle and walking past him toward the fire. I sit down on the warm tile, standing feels like a chore. My leg needs a break, and my body feels like it’s being weighed down. I hear the door between our rooms click shut before he takes a seat on the tile next to me. He reaches a hand toward me. “Don’t touch me.”
His hand recoils immediately. “Elowen, I—”
“You know where Aestilian is,” I cut him off. I remember what he said to me during one of our first interactions.There isn’t a single place in this world you can hide from me, you understand?I take his silence as an affirmation. “How long were you spying on me?”
“I didn’tspyon you. I was looking for you in the Terrwyn Forest, and I knew who you were the second you walked into the tavern. Don’t ask me how. I don’t know how; I just knew that you were the person I was looking for. I followed you into that attic, everything lined up, and it felt right. I followed you back to Aestilian after you rode away from me in the forest because I needed to assure your safety. I didn’t wait around to record numbers or details. We had just made the deal, and all I wanted to do was protect you. I left as soon as you crossed into Aestilian—I don’t even know what it looks like. I didn’t tell anyone of its location either.”
My heart stutters in my chest before I can stop it. He needed to assure my safety because he needed Elowen Atarah, Princess of Imirath. Not Elowen, myself. I can’t fault him for it. In the beginning, I only wanted him for his army and resources.
“Eagor wanted to include revealing Aestilian’s location as part of the treaty so the world would recognize you as a more legitimate ruler, but I told him you would never agree to that because you care more about your people than what the world thinks of you. I told him that I knew the location and that was all the security he would receive in that aspect. I’ve been looking for you for years. I thought that if I could make an alliance with someone that hated Garrick as much as me, if not more so, then I would have a better chance in the war,” Cayden finishes, looking at me with pleading eyes. He’s handing over every single detail with no hesitation. If he was lying, there would be loose ends to his statements.
“I’m not even upset you followed me back to Aestilian,” a laugh that sounds more like a sob ripples through me. “Maybe that makes me an idiot, but so be it. I can’t be upset that you followed me because it’s something that I would’ve done if I was in your position.” I swallow through the tightness in my throat, feeling angry as helpless as tears spring in my eyes. I hate this kind of anger. I like the kind of anger that makes me feel strong or that I can conquer an entire battlefield by myself. This type of anger just makes me feel powerless. His hands clench at his sides, and I know he’s fighting the urge to reach out to me. But if he touches me, I’ll break. “I’m upset because you never told me. This entire time, I thought we were working on our communication and getting better at it as a team. But you kept this from me, and it’s something you knew I would want to know. You looked me in the face every single day and chose to hide this from me.”
“I was going to tell you, I swear. I was just trying to find the right time,” he pleads.
“There is no right time for a conversation like that; you just have to have it. But I would have preferred to have it with you in private rather than in front of a courtly gathering after my uncle betrayed me and marriage was sprung onto us.” I get to my knees and use an iron poker to stoke the fire to distract myself from the tears that continue to gather in my eyes. I wipe the few that fall down my cheeks.
“My intention was never to spy on you, but after I met you…I couldn’t stop myself from following you. You know how much I want revenge, and you were the only person I thought was worth taking a chance on—still are. I didn’t know you; you were nothing more than leverage, but when you tackled me in the attic and held a knife to my throat…you fought with such ferocity. It made me feel like I met someone that burns as much as I do, that would fight as hard as I do. In that moment, I knew I would be an idiot to make an enemy of you before I made you my ally. Some part of me, a part that I thought was shriveled up and dead, came alive. You were stuck in my head from the first night in the tavern, and I would have regretted letting you slip into shadow for the rest of my life. Nobody sticks in my head, but you intrigued me.” His words mend the fresh wound that Ailliard and Eagor tore into my heart and make me want to sink into him. It still hurts, but at least Cayden bandaged it slightly. “I wanted to tell you so badly. I just didn’t want to lose you—whatever part I had of you. The more time I spent with you, the more time Iwantedto spend with you.”
“Did you…” My throat constricts. This is the question I’m most dreading. His use of past tense while speaking of the part hehasof me burns. I may be mad at him, furious actually, but I can’t cut him out from where he embedded himself inside of me. I stab a log harshly. It splits apart, and embers litter the front of my hearth. My eyes watch them, mesmerized by the changing colors. “Did you tell him we slept together?”
He moves between me and the fire and kneels in front of me. Still not touching me, but close enough that he may as well be. After the events of tonight, all I want to do is fall asleep with his arms around me. I want him to hold me until the shattered pieces mold together and feel right again, but they won’t feel right tonight. No amount of hugging can erase what I’ve done or what has been done. I still see Ailliard’s lifeless body whenever I blink. I hear the knife piercing his skin and lodging in his bones. But I won’t just invite Cayden into my bed or wrap my arms around him. If we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, then he needs to get it through his head that he can’t screw me over or withhold details and still expect a happy wife beckoning him into bed. I won’t live a life in ignorance for the sake of anyone’s happiness.
“You are not a game to me. You are not a thing to brag about or something that I’d discuss over a pint. You are going to be my wife, and even if you weren’t, I would never talk about you like that. I would be quicker to praise your mind, beauty, wit, or fighting skills rather than intimate details between us.” His eyes bore into mine, practically begging me to believe him. I do. Eagor and Ailliard were desperate and probably decided to spew as much nonsense as they could so we would break apart before the coup even started. It’s not hard to assume Cayden and I slept together; most of the kingdom believed it before it even happened. But it’s better to question some allies in private rather than argue in public.
“Okay,” I whisper while getting to my feet. His eyes are too intense, and his body is too alluring. I turn away from him and cross my arms over my chest while looking out the window. “Have you considered it might be easier if we did this in name only?” I ask.
I can see his reflection in the window, even though he thinks I can’t. I watch his shoulders cave in. I note the way he pinches the bridge of his nose before dragging his hand through his hair and swaying on his feet. He looks to the ceiling as if he’s offering up a silent prayer for strength or mercy.
“Is that what you want?” His voice is clear despite his reaction.
No. It’s not remotely close to what I want. Cayden and I trying to do this in name only is as unrealistic as waiting for the ocean to dry up or the stars to fall from the sky. But the pain I feel right now is suffocating, agonizing. I avoid his question because I refuse to lie to him.
“I wanted you to talk to me.” I turn away from the window and face him. “I wanted you to tell me things before they were thrown in my face. I told you what I wanted! You should have told me about the marriage clause.” My voice breaks on the last word, and tears slip from my eyes. He cuts across the room but stops in place when I whisper a hoarse, “No.” He grits his teeth and fists his hands at his sides while looking at me with broken eyes.
“I’m a man, not a boy, and I’m not ashamed to admit what I want. I want you. I don’t know when I started wanting you, maybe part of me always has, but all I know is that I can’t stop. In my mind, I would never need to invoke the clause because I had no desire to be king in public. I preferred to pull the strings in private. But I will do anything to keep you safe, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.” For the first time since I met him, Cayden looks defeated. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, his hair is disheveled, and his lips are turned down in a frown. Blood is splattered across his cheeks and leaks from his cuts.
“Have you ever thought about marriage before?” I whisper.
He swallows, “Not exactly.” I don’t have the energy to press him for more information tonight.
