CHAPTER FIVE
She’d never seen the prince up close—he was always waving from a balcony or sitting in a carriage in a parade. He was quite tall, his head nearly brushing the doorway. Tem didn’t have an answer to his question, so she said the only thing she could think of:
“Is it real?”
The prince stepped into the room.
“Is what real?”
Tem pointed at the skull. She wanted him to refute what Caspen had shown her. She wanted him to tell her it was merely a trinket—nothing more than plaster and clay.
Instead, he said:
“What do you think?”
During her silence, he approached, stopping when he was standing beside her.
“You’re displeased,” he said quietly.
“No, I—” Tem started, but had no idea how to finish, “—I’m just surprised.”
It was half the truth, at least.
“I’d rather you didn’t lie to me,” the prince said. “Plenty of people do that already.”
She looked up at him in surprise. His honesty was making her uneasy. She figured the royals were well-mannered and careful with their words. She hadn’t expected him to speak so candidly.
Rather than reply, Tem simply looked at him, and he did the same.
His eyes lingered on the low cut of her dress, taking in the curves the clingy fabric had given her. The open hunger on the prince’s face was so different than anything she’d ever known from a man. Caspen’s desire for her was always masked—lurking just under the surface, hidden beneath a restrained facade of indifference. The prince’s face hid nothing, and Tem felt an odd thrill at the thought. Before she could help herself, she whispered:
“You lost a bet.”
He cocked his head.
“I beg your pardon?”
Rather than explain herself, Tem turned back to the skull.
“Seems like a morbid thing to keep around, doesn’t it?”
“It’s a family heirloom,” Leo explained. “My father considers it his prized possession.”
Tem felt a bristle of anger.
“What kind of family keeps a skull as an heirloom?”
“Mine, I suppose.”
Tem shook her head. It was despicable. The prince seemed to read her mind because he said:
“We’re not all bad, you know.”
She had a hard time believing that. The visions Caspen just sent her flashed through her mind again—pain and bloodshed and suffering. All at the hands of his family. Maybe Leo didn’t fight in the war, but he was descended from people who did. And he clearly supported their actions.
Just when the silence became precarious, the prince extended his hand. On his wrist was a shiny gold cuff, etched with a snake that matched the one on his lapel.
“Thelonius. Although I prefer Leo.”
Tem took his hand. It was warm, and completely enveloped hers.
“Temperance. Although I prefer Tem.”
He held her hand a moment too long.
“Temperance,” he said the syllables slowly. “It certainly is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thanks,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t exactly a pleasure to meet him.
A slight smile twisted his lips, as if he knew she was being evasive.
“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked.
“It’s…impressive.”
“That wasn’t a yes.”
“Oh,” Tem blinked, surprised again by his bluntness. “I just mean…I’m not used to these types of events. Parties, I mean. I…haven’t been to many.”
At her reply, he smiled fully and Tem saw that his lateral incisors were sheathed in gold, and tapered to points.
“I suppose it is a little stiff, as these things generally are.”
Tem shrugged.
“It’s better than being at home.”
“Is it?” he arched an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine being in your position.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I would be furious if I were you, paraded in here like a lamb to the slaughter.”
Tem frowned. She may be speaking with the prince, but that didn’t give him the right to insult her.
“I am no lamb,” she said quietly.
He raised an eyebrow.
“No,” his eyes went to her dress again. “You certainly aren’t.”
There was silence, and in it, Tem felt his heat. She understood suddenly that although he was a prince, she was the one who held the power here. She wondered what it would feel like to wield it.
Leo broke the silence:
“Can I offer you a drink?”
Tem nodded, if only to get a break from his probing stare. Leo turned to the liquor shelf, tapping his fingers lightly along the selection of crystal tumblers before resting on one that contained amber liquid. His nails were perfectly manicured.
“Do you like whiskey?” he asked, his back still turned.
“I…don’t know.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “You’ve never had it?”
“Once,” she said. It was the truth: her and Gabriel had tried it at the Horseman, after several rounds of beer. She genuinely couldn’t remember if she’d liked it.
Leo grinned.
“Whiskey it is, then.”
He selected two faceted glasses and poured an inch of liquid into each. When he handed Tem hers, their fingers brushed. His skin was warm. She stared down at the amber liquid. The harsh smell definitely rang a bell.
“Shall we do it together?” Leo asked.
She was surprised to hear herself answer:
“Sure.”
“Very well. To Kora,” Leo said, clinking his glass to hers.
“To Kora,” Tem said back. It was the traditional toast. Then she raised the glass to her mouth and took a delicate sip of the whiskey. It burned fiercely on the way down her throat, and she pursed her lips in surprise.
Leo downed the contents of his glass in one gulp.
“Well?” he asked once she’d swallowed. “What do you think?”
“It tastes like fire,” she said.
“That it does.”
Tem was still trying not to cough. “How can you drink it so easily?”
Leo laughed, and the sound was like tea cups clinking.
“Lots and lots of practice.”
The prince poured himself another glass and drank it slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to stand there with her. His behavior had the easy entitlement of privilege. Tem got the impression that nothing bothered him, and even if something did, he could make it go away with a snap of his slender fingers. He watched Tem with sharp intelligence, his eyes holding hers for longer than what she would consider socially acceptable. Vera had been wrong, she realized. His eyes weren’t green. They were something closer to gray.
“So. How’s it going so far?” Leo asked.
“How’s what going so far?”
“You know. The training, or whatever it is they’re calling it.”
Blush rose on her cheeks. Was he really asking her about her sessions with Caspen? The process was hardly a secret—everyone in the village knew this was the proper way for a prince to choose a wife. But it was a sensitive subject for Tem. She was already embarrassed by her inexperience—she had no desire to discuss it with the very person she might be sleeping with in a matter of weeks.
“I don’t believe that’s any of your concern,” she said quietly.
His mouth twitched.
“On the contrary. I believe I’m the only person it concerns.”
Her blush deepened, and she hated it. Tem didn’t like the way the prince was making her feel. It was as if he enjoyed her discomfort, and she felt the power shifting back to him as he said:
“Sex is best with someone who knows what they’re doing. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Tem didn’t answer. She hadn’t had sex yet, with someone who knew what they were doing or otherwise.
At her silence, Leo’s smirk widened.
“Then again, experiencing something for the first time can be…rewarding. If that’s your situation.”
Tem felt the whiskey burning in her stomach, and with it, her anger. She hated the way Leo was speaking to her. But even more, she hated the way Caspen had abandoned her. The claw was cold, his presence entirely absent from her mind. She was on her own. So she took a deep breath and said:
“You don’t know my situation.”
Leo leaned in.
“I’d like to.”
He was far too close for comfort.
“Am I to take that as a compliment?” she asked.
“Certainly not. That dress looks beautiful on you. That’s a compliment.”
“I hardly consider it one.”
Leo’s mouth twisted in a condescending smile. “What could possibly be wrong with it?”
“You complimented the dress. Not me.”
Tem didn’t know where her courage came from. She shouldn’t be talking like this, especially not to the prince. But she was angry. At Leo, at the situation she was in, and perhaps at herself for letting her insecurities impact her so greatly. Whatever she was feeling, it lit a fire in her that was stronger than any whiskey, and she was in no mood for banter.
Leo considered her answer.
“Perhaps. But the implication is that the dress is only beautiful because you’re the one wearing it.”
“Implications aren’t compliments.”
Leo frowned. She doubted he was used to being defied.
He stepped closer. Despite downing two whiskeys in the span of a minute, he didn’t seem to be affected by the alcohol at all. His eyes narrowed. “You already know you’re beautiful, don’t you?”
Tem had only been called beautiful once, by Caspen. And yet his word had made her believe it, so she answered honestly:
“Yes.”
“In that case, would you even care to hear it from me?”
Again, she spoke the truth:
“No.”
The cruel smile slipped from his face. Definitely not used to being defied.
“Then I won’t burden you with it.”
“How considerate of you.”
A vein in his temple twitched. It felt as if their entire conversation had been a battle of wits, and Tem wasn’t sure who had won. This was the person she was supposed to give herself to? How could she be expected to compete for his affections when the way he was looking at her made her feel as if she’d been turned inside out?
“Shall we rejoin the party?” Leo said finally, his voice hard. “You’re the guest of honor, after all.”
His timing couldn’t be better. Tem wanted nothing more than to get out of this room.
Leo gestured stiffly with his hand. Without another word, Tem followed him out, and he walked a step ahead of her all the way back to the ballroom. The moment they arrived, he left her. She watched his lanky frame navigate the crowd with understated authority, his whiskey glass still in his hand. People moved for him, and if they didn’t, a casual wave of his long fingers cleared his path.
In the prince’s absence, Tem knew a moment of peace. Then Vera appeared. Her eyes ran greedily down Tem’s body, not unlike the way Leo had looked at her just minutes before. But instead of sexual attraction, there was nothing but pure jealousy in Vera’s eyes.
“That’s your mother’s dress?”
Tem considered lying. But the truth was so much better.
“No,” she said. “Caspen gifted it to me.”
Jealousy turned to utter loathing.
“The basilisk gave you that?”
“The Serpent King gave me that.”
Vera stood silently, gaping like a fish. It had taken twenty years, but finally, Tem understood how it felt to have the upper hand. She savored it.
Just then, Gabriel appeared at her elbow, holding a beer.
“Piss off, Vera,” he said cheerfully.
Vera’s face contorted into a sneer. Her and Gabriel had never gotten along—possibly because he was friends with Tem—possibly because he always somehow ended up kissing the boys Vera liked. Either way, they hated each other.
“There’s no need to be rude,” she hissed.
“I know there’s no need. I’m rude because I want to be.”
Vera didn’t bother with a retort before flouncing haughtily away. Gabriel handed Tem the beer. She sipped it gratefully, using it to wash away the taste of the whiskey.
“Can’t stay long,” he said. “The kitchen is chaos tonight.”
“Thanks for sneaking away.”
“Of course,” he tilted an eyebrow at her. “So? Have you met him yet?”
There was no need to ask who he was referring to.
“Just did.”
“And?”
Tem sighed, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, Gabriel. It was…strange. I couldn’t really tell what he was thinking.”
He was thinking he wanted to fuck you.
Tem nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Caspen’s voice, which was so crystal clear that it sounded as if he were standing right next to her. He chose now to return to her mind? Tem tried to send a question back to him—to ask him if he was still angry about the skull—but it was like throwing water at a wall. There was a barrier between them that it seemed only he could bypass. Tem felt a slight twinge of annoyance.
Gabriel was speaking, but she hadn’t heard it.
“What?” she asked.
“I said, he was probably thinking how diabolically good you look in that dress.”
Even though it was just Gabriel, Tem blushed. It was practically the same thing Caspen had said.
Before she could come up with an appropriate answer, the energy in the ballroom changed. When a moment ago there had been raucous chatter, now a sudden hush fell as movement broke out at the far end of the room.
“What’s happening?” Tem whispered.
“The first elimination,” Gabriel whispered back.
But that was impossible. It was far too soon—the first elimination wasn’t supposed to happen for another week, after the prince had a chance to kiss each girl.
“Are you sure?”
“Everyone in the kitchen was talking about it. He’ll be cutting two girls tonight.”
“Two? Based on what? He hasn’t gotten to know any of us yet.”
“Looks, I suppose.”
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“Vera distracted me! The girl is a terror. Anyway, I figured you knew already.”
But Tem didn’t know. And she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was supposed to be a proper order to the training process—one that shouldn’t involve surprise eliminations. It wasn’t fair. Then again, none of it was really fair. Lilly’s words ran unbidden through her mind: I have a feeling he won’t be able to resist you. Tem glanced down at the dress Caspen had given her, remembering the way the prince had looked at it with hunger in his eyes. Would it be enough? Or had she insulted him by not accepting his compliment? He’d abandoned her the moment they’d returned to the ballroom—did that mean he wasn’t interested in her? Their conversation in the study had been unconventional from start to finish, and had ended on decidedly less than friendly terms. Tem had no idea where they stood.
Tem had gone her entire life without men liking her based on her looks. Why should the prince be any different? She’d probably be the first girl to go. But if she was eliminated tonight, her mother would never forgive her. Even worse, she’d never see Caspen again. She would have no excuse to go into the caves—no reason to see him. Without Caspen, Tem would probably die a virgin.
She couldn’t be eliminated.
The crowd was moving, forming a semicircle around one end of the ballroom, where something was being assembled. Tem squinted and saw what looked like podiums of various sizes, arranged in ascending order of height. She counted eleven of them. Tem frowned. If two girls were to be eliminated, there should be twelve podiums. Then she remembered the girl who had run off right before they entered the caves. Apparently they hadn’t bothered to replace her.
Tem glanced around for Vera. She was fluffing her hair and shooting meaningful glances at Leo, who was leaning against a pillar, looking bored by the proceedings.
“If the ladies could please form a line, we can begin.”
The command came from a handsome, middle-aged man in a uniform. His blonde hair was flecked with gray. Tem recognized him as the Lord Chamberlain, the most senior officer of the royal household and the king’s brother. Tem had seen him around the village, attending to business on behalf of the king.
Gabriel gave her arm a squeeze.
“Better get up there.”
She shot him a terrified glance.
“Kill me. Right now.”
In response, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Then he gave her a little push, and she had no choice but to join the line of girls walking through the crowd. By the time they reached the podiums, Tem’s heart was beating out of control. Everyone was looking at them. And maybe it was simply her imagination, but it felt like everyone was looking at her. Hundreds of pairs of eyes raked over her dress, hundreds of stares pointed directly at her body. She’d never felt more like an animal in a cage than she did right now.
“That’s it, right along here,” the Lord Chamberlain ushered them into an orderly line, turning them so they were standing in front of the podiums, facing the crowd. When they were all in position, he said:
“Your Highness? It’s time.”
Leo emerged from the crowd, whiskey still in hand. His eyes trailed lazily over each girl, looking them up and down one after the other. Vera gave an odd shimmy when he passed by her, which was met with a bemused twitch of his lips. When his eyes landed on Tem, her heart caught in her throat. Leo stepped forward until he was right in front of her.
He leaned in.
But instead of sealing her fate, he tilted his head to the side, bringing his lips to the cheek of the girl standing right next to Tem. She was close enough to hear the words he whispered into her ear:
“Sorry, darling.”
The girl let out a strangled sob. Leo straightened, taking a casual sip of his whiskey as if none of this was of any concern to him. Then he turned to the girl to Tem’s right, leaning in and saying the same two words to her.
Both girls were immediately ushered away, leaving a gaping space around Tem. It was only then that she realized her hands were shaking. It wasn’t just the fact that the girls had been eliminated. It was the way Leo had done it—choosing the girls directly on either side of her, whispering in their ear specifically so she would hear—as if to show Tem that he could’ve eliminated her, but didn’t. Was this all a game to him? Didn’t he care that he was in the process of choosing a wife? Leo was acting like none of this mattered to him at all. Tem couldn’t understand his apathy.
The Lord Chamberlain was speaking again:
“Congratulations, ladies. It is an honor to stand where you stand. As the final event tonight, his Highness will place you on the podiums. The lucky lady in first place will receive a private date with the prince.”
Too late, Tem realized what was happening. It wasn’t just a surprise elimination. The remaining girls were to be ranked, in front of everyone, based on how attractive the prince found them. The podiums were meant to display them in descending order of beauty.
It was barbaric. There was no other word for it.
Tem wanted to run, just like that girl who ran from the caves. But she couldn’t run. She was frozen in place as Leo pointed at girl after girl, assigning them to their podiums with a careless flick of his fingers until Tem and a girl with strawberry blonde hair were the only ones left standing. Only two podiums were left: the tallest, and the shortest. Best and worst; first and last.
Prettiest and ugliest.
Tem already knew what Leo was going to do. Still, it felt like a dagger twisting in her chest as he pointed at the blonde and jerked his head at the tallest podium. Tem could practically feel Vera’s sneer searing into the back of her skull from where she stood on the third podium. Leo didn’t even bother to point at Tem. He simply knocked back the rest of his whiskey, holding her eye contact the entire time.
Tem didn’t step onto the last podium. She couldn’t. She could only stand in pure defiance, determined to wield the only power she had left. She looked Leo straight in the eye, refusing to look away even as the silence drew on. Everyone knew she was being trained by the Serpent King; everyone knew that meant she was supposed to be the best. To be ranked last was a complete and utter humiliation. Worse than that: it was a message. Leo wanted to punish her for rejecting him earlier. He wanted her to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was in control. Message received.
The Lord Chamberlain broke the silence:
“How about a round of applause for our winner.”
The crowd erupted into applause, and the blonde girl waved as if she were already queen. Tem could feel a stubborn wave of tears threatening to break free. But she refused to cry. Instead, she turned them into pure, simmering anger, which she channeled straight at Leo, whose shoulders were already slipping away through the crowd. Without thinking, Tem ran after him, shoving people aside and bursting into the hallway.
He was several yards away, about to ascend the stairs.
“Leo—” she yelled, “—Stop.”
He turned to face her, his expression moving quickly from surprise to smug satisfaction.
“Something the matter, Temperance?”
She walked right up to him, stopping only when she was a foot away.
“You ranked me last.”
His mouth twitched into a cruel smile.
“So I did.”
“Care to tell me why?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“You might as well have called me ugly. Of course I noticed.”
Leo leaned in.
“You made it clear you don’t want me to call you beautiful. Why shouldn’t I call you ugly?”
“Because it’s a lie.”
Disbelief flashed across Leo’s face. Tem seized the moment, stepping closer.
“And I’d prefer you didn’t lie to me, Leo. Plenty of people do that already.”
His own words hung between them. In the silence, Leo studied her face. He seemed to be working something out in his mind, and Tem decided to let him. She had nowhere to be; nothing was as important as this. She let him look as long as he liked, and when he finally opened his mouth to speak, his words had a bitter edge:
“I saw the way you looked at the skull. Not to mention the way you look at me. You don’t respect my family. You don’t even want to be here.”
His words echoed Caspen’s: You do not seem desperate to be here. But Tem recognized them for what they really were. Leo was asking her whether she wanted to be here—whether she wanted him. It was a question that surprised her, given that the entire elimination process was based on his choice, not hers. It was assumed that the girls all wanted to be here. Her wants should be irrelevant to him.
But rather than give in—rather than answer him, and reveal her hand—Tem decided to take her power back. So she leaned in, angling her body just as she had seen Vera do with Jonathan, making sure Leo’s full attention was on her before she turned his question back on him:
“Do you want me to be here?”
Their faces were inches apart. Suddenly, the castle disappeared, and they were the only two people in existence. Tem saw Leo’s answer in his eyes—in the way his gaze traced hungrily down her neck to the golden claw that rested between her breasts. She saw his answer in the way his body angled itself to mirror hers, in the way his grip tightened on his whiskey glass, in the way his tongue brushed briefly over his lips as if it longed to taste hers. She saw his answer, but he said it anyway:
“Yes.”
Tem leaned back, once again putting distance between them.
“Then act like it.”