Page 223 of Split or Swallow

Leo looked at her, his eyes hooded.

“Yes. I’m afraid I am.”

Tem stared at him, trying to understand.

She, of all people, knew what it was like to truly have no agency. Her path had been decided for her the moment she was born in the same year as the prince, the daughter of a single mother with nothing but chicken shit to go home to. Leo had no idea what it was like to have everything decided for him. He was the son of a king, with more power than he knew how to wield, straining against a self-imposed cage.

“Do you not believe me?” Leo asked.

Tem sighed.

“If you say you’re unhappy, I believe you. But you have more power than you think you do.”

“And how shall I wield that power?”

“I don’t know, Leo. Do something—anything. Think about someone other than yourself.”

“I think about you.”

She ignored the compliment, leaning in.

“Think about your family. Think about what they’ve done.”

Leo frowned.

“And what has my family done?”

Tem shouldn’t have said that. Before she could figure out how to answer, there was another knock on the door. Leo’s eyes lingered on hers for just a moment before he said:

“Come in.”

Tem stared at the fire as the same servant from before set a tray of food down and left without a word. Neither of them touched the food. Leo leaned in.

“What has my family done, Tem?”

He said it like a plea. His voice was curious—apprehensive, even. As if he were afraid to hear the answer. Tem decided in that moment that he didn’t know about the bloodletting. He couldn’t. Leo would never condone such cruelty.

But she also couldn’t imagine telling him.

What, exactly, would she even say? That there were imprisoned basilisks—including her own father—beneath their feet? That everything Leo owned was paid for in blood? Tem thought about the portrait of Leo and Maximus, both wearing matching gold cuffs.

Like father, like son.

Even if he had no knowledge of the bloodletting, Tem had no idea whether she could trust Leo. If the last twenty four hours were any indication, she couldn’t trust anyone. She knew Leo was angry at Maximus for how he’d treated Evelyn, and for how he was already beginning to treat Tem. But was he angry enough to condemn his father’s crimes? There were so many secrets—so many things Leo didn’t know, and none of them would be easy for him to hear. She didn’t want to keep things from him the same way so many things had been kept from her.

All journeys begin with a step.

But it was too soon. Leo may be angry with his father, but Tem very much doubted he was ready to discover the atrocities happening within his own home. Not when he had been raised his entire life to believe that basilisks were the enemy.

The truth would have to wait another day.

“You said it yourself,” Tem shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “Your family controls you. You could stand up to your father if that’s really what you wanted.”

Leo tilted his head, appraising her. She wondered if he could tell she’d wanted to say something else.

“And how would you suggest I stand up to him?”

“By making your own choices.”