Page 88 of Live To Tell

A knock on the door drags me from my musings over the tiara in an attempt to tune out the day. I glance at my phone. 10PM.

I should’ve expected the person who I open the door to.

Leif.

He looks no different to earlier in dress or the tension in his demeanor, but his cheeks are redder, and alcohol mingles with the air around him. “Hello, Leif.” I look behind. “Is Rowan not with you?”

Leif rubs a cheek. “He told me to come talk to you on my own.”

I step forward and sniff. “Are you intoxicated?”

“I had a couple of beers but no.” Leif shoves hair from where it covers his eyes. They’re duller but not awash with alcohol as I’ve seen in people before. “Rowan wouldn’t let me near you if I was.”

“Hmm.” I flick my tongue against my top teeth. “I thought you didn’t want to be around me because I’m ‘difficult’.”

He sighs and shoves hands into his black jacket pockets. “Is Holly here?”

“Why? Do you wish to talk to her?”

This time he rolls his eyes. “No, Violet. Are you not listening, as usual?”

“I never told her what happened today,” I inform him and step back to allow him into the room.

“Which part? Where elders told me who I am or when you told them I’m your consort?” he asks, following me and closing the door.

I turn to him. “Neither.”

“Why did you say that I’m your consort?” he blurts. “I don’t understand.”

Why is my heart banging in my chest again? “Because I didn’t know how else to impress on the elders that they couldn’t keep you.”

Leif regards me through now half-hidden eyes and silently moves to sit on my desk chair. “You’ve never told me what you actually think and feel for me, Violet, so excuse me if discovering I’m your consort was a bloody big surprise.”

He’s terser than earlier and the nausea I’d suppressed swirls in my belly again as the emotion returns. Rejection. “I apologize if I spoke out of turn.”

“What?” His brow pinches. “No. You don’t speak enough, Violet.”

“Some would argue the opposite.”

“All I’m saying is, it would be good to know what you think and what this ‘consort’ thing actually means to you before you spoke.” He rubs a hand across his mouth. “Rowan told me about witch society and their often weird family set-ups, but you’re not part of that society.”

I remain standing across the room from Leif. How has my admitting to the world what he means to me created such a gulf? Leif picks up a pen from the desk and starts twirling it in his hands, no longer looking at me.

“And thus, Rowan will have told you that you can reject me.” His head snaps up. “Which you did, and I shall accept that. But the rejection won’t stop me caring for and helping you.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath. “When you said that you’d rather not be around me and walked away... that hurt.”

“Hurt?”

“Why say the word as if I’m incapable of experiencing hurt?” I say indignantly. “I am sorry that I say and do things that cause you distress, but I never do so deliberately.”

“Because you’re upfront and honest, huh?” he asks.

“Yes.”

With a small laugh, Leif pulls himself to his feet and sets the pen down before moving back towards me. Perhaps because two of my fathers are oversized men, I don’t always notice how Leif physically dwarfs me, but there’s a shift in dynamics here that for once emphasizes this difference.

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