Page 239 of Between Two Kings

Go.

At his command, dark disappointment twisted her stomach, and Tem realized she had hoped to hear another word—one that was the opposite of go. But the word didn’t come, so she went.

Tem half expected Evelyn to hook her elbow through hers as they crossed the hall. Instead, she proudly opened the door to Leo’s room, crossing to pour them drinks from the bar cart. Tem stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying not to look at anything. It was too intimate, too personal. And that was perhaps the point. Tem saw their bed, which was unmade. She wondered which side Leo slept on. Her question was answered when her gaze fell on the left bedside table. Tem’s heart performed a swoop when she saw the book there: The Raven and the Swan.

“Please,” Evelyn crooned. “Sit.”

They sat in the armchairs before the fire, the same ones where Tem had sought refuge from Caspen before his quiver had given her their blessing. The same ones where she had come on Leo’s fingers. So needy, he’d whispered. What are we going to do with you?

Evelyn handed her a glass of champagne.

With a sigh, Tem downed it. There was no point in asking for anything else, and she was positive she wouldn’t survive this girl talk without alcohol.

“I’m so looking forward to the wedding,” Evelyn gushed. “Wait until you see the swans. They’re incredible.”

Tem resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Was this the reason Evelyn wanted to talk to Tem? To gloat? Evelyn had won the battle, and this was her victory lap. How Tem wished she could win the war. “Did you invite anyone from the village?”

“Oh, everyone is coming.”

“I didn’t mean this village.”

Evelyn stiffened. But Tem didn’t care. If Evelyn was going to insist on girl talk, then Tem was going to push her—to force her to acknowledge her time away. “Surely, you made friends while you were there.”

Evelyn shrugged. “Not really.”

“No? Shame. It must have been lonely.”

“I had a good reason to stay.”

The words seemed to just slip out. Tem leaned forward. “What reason?”

Evelyn seemed to be considering something. Finally, she said, “You were a chicken farmer before all of this.”

It wasn’t a question. Tem decided to answer it anyway. “Yes. I was.”

“Then you can understand how difficult life can be. You can understand that, when presented with a better option, it’s best to take it.”

Tem frowned. What better option? Evelyn hadn’t made any friends while she was away—she claimed she had taken no lovers. So why had she stayed?

A memory crept in: She did not leave because of some ridiculous letter. She left because I offered her a higher price than what she could steal from me one fork at a time.

Tem had nothing to lose. It was the eve of Leo’s wedding, and she was at the end of her rope with Evelyn. If she didn’t get the truth now, she never would.

“How much?” Tem asked before she could stop herself.

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“How much did Maximus pay you?”

The rest of her question hung unspoken in the air between them: to leave Leo?

Evelyn was watching her thoughtfully. She did not look like an animal cornered in a cage. She was perfectly calm as she said, “Plenty.”

There it was. The truth.

All the suspicion Tem had harbored for so long was finally laid bare. Lilly had tried to tell her. Maximus had tried to tell her. But it took hearing it from Evelyn’s mouth for her to actually believe it was true. Evelyn had known exactly what she was doing when she left Leo. She’d jumped ship—moved on when she’d realized that Maximus would never accept her and his payout would be more than she’d get if she stayed. She’d only returned when he was no longer king and she could infiltrate the castle the way she’d always wanted.

It was then that Tem understood she had underestimated Evelyn. Now she could see her for what she really was—the worst kind of predator, the kind that looked like prey. Evelyn possessed power indeed. It might not be the kind of power Tem was used to—brash and loud and destructive—but it was power nonetheless. Her sly, wide-eyed innocence was nothing more than an act. She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A lie.