“Prince Taegan,” the male voice echoed through the quiet room, and they turned to see Kelvhan walking toward him. Irritation bristled at the sight of him, an echo of their last conversation despite the time they had spent apart, but Taegan suppressed it quickly, not wanting Zorvut to sense anything at all about him.
“Kelvhan,” he replied dryly. The other elf bowed his head in respect, but kept his gaze trained on Taegan. Zorvut glanced at him, then back over at Taegan with an uncertain expression. “Zorvut, this is Kelvhan, a warlock in service of the library.”
“Forgive the intrusion, my prince,” Kelvhan continued before Zorvut could reply. “I was hoping to speak to you in private.”
At that, Taegan hesitated. While he truly did not want to talk to Kelvhan, if he refused, it might appear more suspicious than if he agreed. He sighed and gave a terse nod of agreement.
“I’ll meet you in the dining hall for dinner,” he said to Zorvut.
“Let me take those back to your study, then,” the orc replied, gesturing at the books he carried, which Taegan handed over with a faint simmer of affection bubbling through his frustration at the offer. He looked back over to Kelvhan as Zorvut turned to go, noting that the disdain on the other elf’s face was apparent.
“Well?” he asked expectantly after a beat of silence.
“Come with me,” Kelvhan said, turning away. This time, Taegan was positive the flash of irritation he felt at Kelvhan’s purposely vague words had carried through the bond, and he could feel a faint mixture of confusion and concern coming from Zorvut in return.Later, he thought, and did his best to close off his end of the bond for now. Kelvhan led him to a quiet corner near the back of the library, where some of the oldest tomes were kept and it was unlikely anyone would overhear them.
“Taegan,” he said when they were alone, turning to face him.
“PrinceTaegan,” he interrupted, and Kelvhan scowled at the correction.
“Please don’t be like this,” he countered, his voice a frustrated hiss. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I’m listening,” he retorted. Kelvhan sucked in a long breath before continuing in a measured, forced tone.
“I have been thinking about what you said the last time we spoke,” he said slowly. “And I truly think we could make this work. Taegan, I...” His voice hesitated there, and he looked away. “Taegan, I miss you. I miss what we had. You’re too good for—forhim, for an orc. Your marriage is only a symbol, nothing more, and that doesn’t have to change. But we can still be together, weshouldstill be together. Elves should be with elves.”
“I thought I made my decision clear,” Taegan snapped, scowling. “Kelvhan, what you ask of me is impossible.”
“It’snot,” he insisted. “Monarchs have had secret relationships since the beginning of time. Everyone knows political marriages have no expectation of love. No one could fault you for this.”
He reached to grab Taegan’s hand; he pulled away, but Kelvhan’s grasp was firm. The sensation of his soft, warm skin against Taegan’s hand was so intimate that for one uncertain moment, he considered it—as well as things were going with Zorvut, how long could it last? They were so different, and Kelvhan was so familiar—
What was he thinking? He yanked his hand away, anger and shame flooding him for even entertaining the thought.
“I willnotendanger the peace treaty this way,” he growled, struggling to keep his voice quiet yet stern. “Kelvhan, I don’t think you understand why I did this in the first place. My father worked too hard for too long for me to put it on the line for—for—for what? A handful of secret meetings? A year together? No, a lifetime of unity isn’t worth giving up for you, for anyone.”
Kelvhan’s face had gone from ghostly white to a furious red, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Taegan did not let him.
“You forget yourself,” he continued, jabbing a finger toward him as he stepped away. His voice was rising with anger, and he was sure everyone else in the library could hear him clear as day—part of him hoped they did. “I am the prince, and the next time you speak to me this way, it will be your last moment in this castle. Do not approach me about this again, do you understand?”
Kelvhan stared at him for a long moment, his mouth a firm line but rage blazing in his eyes, until finally he looked away and swallowed hard. “I understand,” he whispered, barely audible, and without staying to hear if he had anything else to say, Taegan turned to go, his footsteps echoing loudly through the library as he stormed out.
Without thinking, he returned to his room, wanting to be alone, but Zorvut was already there and waiting for him, a concerned look on his face as Taegan shoved the door open.
“What’s wrong?” Zorvut asked, standing up to meet him. Taegan turned away, feeling his cheeks flush.
“Nothing,” he said, the word coming out as a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat, then added, “I… I do not like that man.”
“I could tell,” Zorvut replied slowly, the uncertainty apparent in his voice and his face. “You were certainly... feeling uncomfortable. I was worried about you.”
Taegan knew the words were meant to assuage him, but for some reason anger spiked anew in his chest.
“Perhaps it would be best if I kept the bond more closed off,” he snapped, unable to meet the orc’s gaze. “I would not want to bother you with my unnecessary thoughts.” He could feel a steady stream of confusion coming from Zorvut, but he squeezed his eyes shut, imagining them as iron vaults blocking him off from their connection—he heard Zorvut gasp, and opened his eyes to see him instinctively reaching for the back of his neck. Though he felt a sharp pinprick of panic coming from Zorvut, he must have been successful in closing his own end of the bond.
“I didn’t know you could...” Zorvut stammered, trailing off before turning away from Taegan. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to anger you.”
“You didn’t anger me!” Taegan shouted, but the petulance in his tone was painful even to his own ears, and he clenched his fists before turning away as well and repeating in a forced tone, “You didn’t anger me.”
“I’ll go,” Zorvut said simply, and pushed past Taegan and was out the door before he could react. Taegan stood alone and motionless in the middle of the room for a long moment, frustrated tears burning at his eyes that he refused to shed. Finally, he picked up one of the books Zorvut had brought back for him and sat down to read, though his gaze lingered on the same paragraph without comprehension for the remainder of the afternoon. When he finally felt calm enough to discern his own emotions from Zorvut’s, he could only sense a faint sadness coming from the orc.
