Page 91 of Split or Swallow

Vera gaped like a fish, her eyes popping out of her heart-shaped face. It was the perfect retort; there was no way to disprove it since Vera had left before Tem went into the library. Even better given that it was actually true.

For once in her life, Vera took the hint and disappeared without another word.

“Feeling petty today, are we?” Gabriel said.

Tem threw him a look.

“What?” he grinned. “I like it when you’re petty.”

“Please shut up.”

Gabriel pressed a kiss to her cheek before graciously shutting up.

Hours passed. They hung the rest of the flags. Eventually, Gabriel left to work dinner service at the castle.

Tem needed the alone time anyway.

She spent the afternoon helping the carpenters set up the stage for the Passing of the Crown. Tem wasn’t particularly skilled at woodwork, but she was no stranger to manual labor, and she found that losing herself in the hammering helped to soothe her anxiety. By the time she was ready to head home, night was falling. Tem took the trail through the woods, winding slowly amongst the trees.

Suddenly she heard a voice behind her:

“Hey!”

Tem turned around.

The voice belonged to Jonathan. He was flanked by another boy who Tem recognized from school. Christopher.

“Your name’s Temperance, isn’t it?” Jonathan asked, walking right up to her.

“Yes,” she said. “But I go by Tem.”

“Right. Tem.”

Both boys were grinning at her, but they weren’t friendly grins. They were predatory and unpredictable, and Tem felt a sudden urge to run.

“We heard you’re with the Serpent King. Is that right?”

Tem cursed Vera and her big mouth.

“Yes,” she began slowly. “But I—”

“So he’s taught you quite a lot then, I’d assume?”

Tem shifted uncomfortably. It was getting dark, and the boys were blocking her path home. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t get around them.

“I’m…still learning,” she mumbled.

“Is that right?” Jonathan’s grin widened, and so did Christopher’s. “We’d like to learn too. Right Chris? Maybe you could teach us something.”

He looked at Christopher, who nodded greedily, his eyes never leaving Tem’s.

“I really need to get home,” she said, her voice cracking.

“No. You really need to teach us something.”

Jonathan stepped closer, and Tem stepped back. She was utterly defenseless—she wished suddenly that she had kept one of the hammers from earlier.

“Please—” Tem begged, “—I have to get home.”