“It’s also super poisonous,” Marek says. “But the razor fish will strip the flesh from your bones before the poison takes effect.”
Sei turns and stares.
Marek shrugs. “We’re here to eat and sightsee. Not swim.”
He’s spread a rough blanket over the ground. Sei sits down, folding his legs as Marek sets out the food. Clem must have been paying attention to all Sei’s favorites so far in Draskora. There are pastries upon pastries, sweet and savory.
Then Marek removes a small bottle from the basket, and chokes.
“What is that?” Sei asks, picking a savory hand pie.
Marek pauses before answering. “Lubrication.”
Sei nearly chokes on the flaky crust too. “Oh,” he says when he finishes coughing. “Who put that in the basket?”
“It could be literally any of them.” Avoiding eye contact, Marek tucks the salve back in the basket.
The little bottle’s presence burns in Sei’s mind, but he sets the notion aside for now. Marek was right earlier—they need to talk some things through. And Sei has an apology of his own to give.
“I’m sorry for shouting and throwing beer at you yesterday.”
Marek lowers his cheese roll, his expression helpless. “Come on. You don’t get to upstage my big apology picnic.”
Sei holds back a smile. “Are you telling me what to do, Your Highness?”
Marek’s mouth opens, then shuts.
The berries are sweet. Sei eats three of them before continuing. “I forgive you for throwing your early birthday party on my actual birthday. Especially since I know the riders planned it. Additionally, if I wanted something done for my birthday, I should have mentioned it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think it would bother me until it did.” Sei pops another berry into his mouth. The taste is almost as sweet as Marek’s attention following his lips. Is that new? Or has Marek always done that without Sei noticing?
Marek takes a berry for himself. “I think I understand. I always assumed Father would arrange a marriage for me. But when he actually did, I was angrier than I expected.”
“I noticed.”
“Which is why I owe you apologies for more than just the birthday party.”
Sei is tempted to joke. To deflect and call Marek a boulder again. To smooth out the awkward edges of the conversation. Marek is vulnerable now in a way Sei isn’t used to. His openness threatens to expose Sei’s own vulnerabilities.
Brushing the crumbs from his fingers, Sei stands up to gaze over the beautiful, poisonous lake. He remains quiet, resisting the lure of an easy escape.
“Neither of us chose this arrangement, but our circumstances aren’t equal,” Marek says. “It bothers me that you think you’re supposed to obey me. Not because I’m a prince, but because you’re a grail. That’s not how it works here.”
Marek’s eyes are so much brighter than the water. Even sitting, his presence rivals the sky.
“It still bothers me, but I handled it all wrong,” Marek continues. “I never asked what you wanted to do about the betrothal. When you told me anyway, with and without words, I never listened.”
Sei fingers the hem of his jacket. Marek has listened far more than he gives himself credit for. He’s listened to things Sei never even said, things Sei never even knew about himself. How could Sei have known the particular iridescence of pink wyrmskin?
He sits down, much closer to Marek than before.
Marek exhales. “I’m asking now, Sei. What do you want?”
A year ago, Sei’s answer would have been different. A month ago. Even a week ago. “All my life, I dreamed of being chosen by a mage. That’s how I saw it. Not being sold or traded. Being chosen.” Sei’s mouth twists. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You never chose me.”
Marek doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.
