I shake my head. ‘Don’t be. You’re not responsible for her.’

His shoulders relax. Like my words have lifted a heavy weight off him, though I don’t understand why it would have been there in the first place. He didn’t invite her. She is her own person, and a grown-up. Nothing she’s done or said to me tonight was his fault.

‘Are you enjoying the evening otherwise?’ He looks at me and smiles. ‘Everything you hoped it would be?’

I beam back at him. ‘Yes. And more. I can’t believe the fairies from my park are here.’ I’ve already forgotten their names. That’ll be awkward next time I see them.

Leverett chuckles, and I resist the urge to melt against him. He’s just the right height that my head would comfortably snuggle under his chin.

‘Anton is a social man, as you can see. He knows people from all over the country, and other countries besides. I’ve told you that he arranges several events just like this one throughout the year, but I don’t think he ever invites everyone he knows.’

Bloody hell. ‘I don’t know even a tenth as many people.’

‘Vampires have a long time to make acquaintances and friends.’

It reminds me of something Saif said. Before tonight, I wouldn’t have brought it up, but the encounter with Chiara seems to have made me braver—first my flirty smile and now this.

I hope it sounds more like passing curiosity.

‘I’m surprised vampires bother with humans at all. Or any of the fae. I mean, I’m surprised vampires and the fae bother with humans.’

Well, that could have gone smoother.

Leverett leans forwards onto the railing on his forearms. ‘Because of your short life spans?’

I nod. ‘In part. To you it must feel like you’ve barely got to know us, and then poof—we’re gone again.’

He hesitates for a moment. I brace myself for the indirect rejection.

‘It’s true that some centuries feel like they’ve passed in seconds. Not all Veiled are long-lived, though. Werewolves are more likely to reach a hundred, but I don’t know of any who’ve lived beyond 120. That was an outlier. Humans are much the same, aren’t they?’

I want to argue that no human I’ve ever met has lived to 120, but I have seen news articles every now and again of someone living to over one hundred. It’s extremely rare, but it happens. Sounds like the werewolf living as long was an exception, too, likely due to diet and exercise just as it would be for a human.

‘Yes,’ I whisper into the breeze. ‘I suppose we are.’ I let my eyes wander over all the guests below. How much am I missing? How many Veiled are down there who are indistinguishable from humans at first glance? ‘Fairies can fly and have their own magic. Mermaids can breathe and live underwater. You do the turning-into-fog thing, and you could coerce me to say or do anything you want.’ Now that it’s out I worry it sounds suggestive, but I don’t think it does. I’m just thinking aloud here. ‘What are humans good at when compared to all of you? War?’

I knew Chiara’s words got to me in the library, but it’s starting to sink in how much they hurt. There’s absolutely nothing a human like me could ever hope to offer Leverett. What can I possibly do? Die in a mere fifty years or so to save him the discomfort of breaking up with me?

‘It’s true that, on the whole, humans have a tendency towards conflict,’ Leverett says, ‘but I think you can give yourself more credit than that.’

I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Oh?’

‘As you’re well aware, the Veiled fear another war with humanity. It’s true that, while both sides picked at each other for a while, you humans were the aggressors last time, and everything points to you being the aggressors in the future, too. But you’ve never shown me anything but kindness.’ Leverett smiles at me. ‘You’re an outlier, too.’ He nods towards the guests below. ‘All of them are. You’re proof that humans can accept the Veiled without problems. It gives us hope even as we fear being more open with you.’

I don’t know what to say to that. This feels like a big conversation that I haven’t prepared for. The breeze strokes around my neck, and I let it soothe me. I don’t need to overthink this. I just need to be honest, as I’ve always been with him.

I gather all my courage and say, ‘Accepting you wasn’t exactly hard.’

His smile grows and—dare I hope?—has a flirty edge to it. If not that, there’s a softness in his eyes that’s begging me to stay.

Or maybe I’m imagining the begging part, but either way, I’m not going anywhere. Perhaps that’s what it means to love someone who doesn’t return your feelings—you’re there for them anyway. Even though it hurts.

‘Is that so?’ he says with that handsome smile.

‘Yes. You made it easy.’

‘And you really don’t see how rare that is?’

I blink. ‘What do you mean?’