Page 152 of Insolence
To my amazement, I feel the same.
My mutable soul has always been a nerve-racking topic to bring up with potential lovers. Oftentimes the women attracted to my masculinity don’t enjoy my feminine side. And vice versa.
But with Tiss, my shifts never shock or repel her. Whether man or woman, she never passes judgment. Never pressures me to wear different clothes or change my mannerisms. She simply accepts me as I am without skepticism or rude questions.
Hell, I don’t even need to initiate “the talk” with her. She observes. Draws it out ofmeinstead. Powerless before her scrutiny, I soon discover the way she sees both sides of me is reassuring, if slightly unnerving. Particularly on the occasions she clocks my shifts before I do.
Not that we’relovers, by any stretch.
Gods,we could never be. Which is for the best. And knowing the boundary is there—drawn by our circumstances and plain common sense—is also reassuring. Even if I hate it.
Then, one night in mid-Frondfall, she arrives with news that makes her wring her hands and chew her lip.
“What’s the matter?” I ask. “You’re on edge tonight.”
A sad smile raises the corners of her mouth. Doesn’t travel to her eyes. “My father’s informed me the time has come to marry my betrothed.”
“Oh?” It suddenly takes effort to control my tone and volume. “Who is he?”
“Illiam of Clan Madoc.”
“Quite the match,” I say, heart battering my ribs. “I wouldn’t expect any less for the only child of Jedrek’s patriarch.”
“Ha! Apparently, ‘I daresay the contract was canted more heavily inmyfavor’”—she deepens her voice to mimic Bard Fiach—“according to my loving father.” She sneers and shakes her head. Mumbles something under her breath.
“Please stop fidgeting.” My hand moves over the paper automatically, charcoal pinched so hard between my fingers myjoints cramp.Why does it feel as though I’ve been skewered through the chest with a red-hot poker?
And why doespossessivenessseize my soul at the roots?
It doesn’t make sense. We haven’t even kissed beyond that chaste peck in Nehel. At the same time, it’d be a lie to say art is the only thing between us.
Something bothers me for days after this session. Something nagging and nasty that burrows deep beneath my skin. It weighs me down with an empty sort of shame that says I don’t measure up.
It takes time to put into words.
It’s not exactly jealousy, although it is jealousy-adjacent. It’s not that I’m afraid of Illiam taking something that’s mine because she doesn’tbelongto me. Regardless of what society ordains and my knee-jerk reaction when she first told me, Tiss belongs to nobody but herself.
No, that’s not quite it.
When it finally hits, it’s like a crash of thunder: I amenviousof him. Of what he has that I lack. The realization leaves me cold and numb for days.
For as long as I’ve been aware of my mutable soul, this particular dysphoria has never manifested so strongly or persistently. In all the time I’ve been taking women to bed, I’ve never felt so…inadequate.
Autumn rolls into a cool, wet winter. She keeps coming. I try to keep emotional distance, but ignoring her draw proves as practical as fighting gravity.
Her allure is incapacitating. Her power intoxicating—like perfume, like liquor. She is a dangerously seductive creature when she wants something.
Frustratingly, she wants to pay me as much as she wants to feed me. SheknowsI hate taking her money, but my resistance only seems to encourage her.
True to form, she makes a game of hiding cash around the atelier.
One night I find bills in the bookcase. “What’s this?” I snap. “Ithoughtyou said you wouldn’t pay me till you saw the final product. Whatever happened to that idea, huh?”
“That was before I was aware of how much time you’d be investing.” She wears a lazy grin, a bunch of pink-streaked thousand-petal roses cradled in one arm. Their beauty is extravagant, but they pale in comparison to Tiss.
“Your money’s no good until I’m finished with the portrait. Do I really have to say it every session?” I leave the bundled tollars wedged between two books.
“The way you keep insisting on thesestudiesleads me to believe you’ll never be finished.”
