Page 66 of Courting Death & Desire
“I wouldn’t even know where ‘here’ is,” Mirquios mumbled, leaning against an ancient shelf.
She folded her book, setting it in her lap as she lowered her feet to the floor.
“We’re in the Andromeda library back home. Not far from your quarters.”
He nodded and pointed to her book.
“Any good?”
Lunelle laughed, but it was a curt sound, an immediate reminder that nothing about this was amusing.
“It’s my favorite.”
“And your favorite tea,” he said, gesturing to the simmering pot of chamomile on the coffee table before her. “Well, favorite non-hallucinogenic tea.”
“Correct,” she said.
“And your favorite Mercurian.”
Lunelle glanced around. “Is the commander here?”
The king winced. “Ha, very funny.”
“It doesn’t hurt as much here,” Lunelle said, rubbing at her chest. She could still feel the Tether, but it was a whisper instead of a shout.
“Much easier,” he agreed. “You seemed agitated in the hall earlier. More so than at dinner. Or lunch.”
She heaved a sigh. “I had an… argument with the prince.”
“Ah,” he said. They were both unsure how to navigate the topic—it was clear in their twin hesitation to move forward.
He left his station at the shelf and sat on the coffee table across from her. Even there, where everything moved in slow currents, the air still pulled taut between them.
“Did he hurt you?”
Lunelle rolled her eyes. “No. It would certainly be easier to hate him if he were as physically cruel as he can be emotionally.”
“But he touched you,” Mirquios said. He did not ask. He didn’t have to.
“It wasn’t uninvited,” Lunelle whispered.
The king nodded slowly, a strange blend of envy and anger slipping between them. She felt his attempts to suppress the emotions bleeding into the Tether, but it was not enough to quiet the resounding thought bouncing between their chests.
She was not his. She was not his. She was not his.
“Gods, this is complicated,” he admitted.
Lunelle winced. “Everything is. Arcas… is incredibly complex. I can feel it in him—he wants to do good, but he is so misguided about what ‘good’ looks like for everyone. I do not know how to get through to him. The moment we get into any serious conversations, we both explode. I fear the only thing that stops us from killing one another is… is?—”
Mirquios eyed her. “You don’t owe me any explanations, Lunelle.”
“I know. And yet, I feel compelled to share every passing thought with you.”
“I worry, Lu. If he found out about you joining the rebels… the volatility you describe… it would be a disaster.”
Lunelle frowned. She’d thought of nothing else all evening.
“I can handle myself.”
