Page 136 of Kissed By the Gods
“Gowns,” all the men answer simultaneously.
“Actually,” I decide, considering my options. “I’ll need some time. Should I meet you there?”
Faelon looks both puzzled and worried at my mention of needing more time. “You don’t know the way! But you look fine. Completely fine. Come on. We don’t want to miss out on any of the, umm, activities.”
“I’m literally in my robe, Faelon.”
That cocky smirk. “Exactly. Very efficient, if you ask me.”
I bark out a laugh at the same time all the guys groan. Caius casts his eyes up to the ceiling and starts mumbling, as if he’s praying for patience.
Thalric steps forward and pushes the others back, out of my room and into the corridor. “I’ll stay here and wait for Leina. You guys go ahead.”
Faelon grins again, content. He points a finger at me. “Don’t bail on us, Leina. I expect to see you at the Crimson Feather for a full night of drinking and debauchery.” He leans in like he’s telling me a secret. “You really do need this. You’ve been a bit … uh … irritable.”
I snort again and pat him on the arm. “So I’ve heard. Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” The men turn down the corridor, Faelon jostling with Leif to be in the lead as they go. I turn to Thalric, who is leaning against the wall of my room with an easy grace.
“I don’t own a dress. I need to go see Elowen.”
He nods easily, pushing off the wall. “Let’s go, then.”
“We’re not allowed to visit the healers after lights out,” I say as I slip into my boots.
He shrugs his shoulder. “You certainly look injured enough after a day in the ring with Ryot.” He opens the door, and we start down the hallway. “If anyone asks, we’ll say we think you have internal bleeding.”
We turn down a corridor, heading toward the infirmary. The corridors are empty, everyone either in bed or at the Crimson Feather.
I lower my voice, so that it’s barely a whisper. “How long have you and Nyrica been together?”
Thalric slants a glance at me. “At the Synod? Twenty-two years.”
I stop, realization at his disclaimer dawning. “You knew each other before you presented?”
He gives a curt nod. “We’ve been together since we were 17,” he says. “But we broke it off for a while when we presented.”
“For a while?” I slow, the math slotting into place in my head. “You were apart for over a decade? Why did you wait so long to get back together?”
Thalric raises a brow. “Nosy little thing.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “I didn’t mean to. I just?—”
“You did, but it’s fine. You want to know what it’s like to love someone in a place that demands your whole damn soul and says that love makes you weak.”
I avert my eyes and scowl. “No, I?—”
“It’s hell, Leina,” he says, and I swing my eyes back to him. “It’s hell not being able to touch Nyrica when I want. To not reach out when he’s hurting. To stand next to him and pretend he doesn’t matter, not more than anyone else here. But do you know what was even worse?”
Silently, I shake my head. He looks at me, dead-on. “Pretending I could live without him.”
His eyes take on a far-away look. “We made all these plans when we were kids. We’d live in a little house in a quiet village—painted blue, for some reason. I don’t remember why. We’d run a tavern. Nyrica would charm the patrons, sing them songs and stories, and I’d run the books, keep the peace, fix the shelves when they broke. We even talked about adopting a kid someday. Someone small and loud to spoil rotten.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “That you had to live without each other for so long.”
His eyes find mine again, and he smiles but it’s sad and weary. “Me too. But things could’ve been worse. Only one of us could’ve presented. We could’ve ended up in different casts. One of us could’ve died in battle a long time ago. We didn’t get the life we dreamed up in that blue house, but we have a life. One with love in it. And sometimes that has to be enough. You make peace with what is and let go of what’ll never be.”
I ignore the way his eyes seem to stare into my soul and start walking again.
“Ryot’s been hard on you,” he says.
