Page 118 of Under Restless Skies

“Why? Ledeia and Marcus do it.”

“It’s not the same,” I mutter.

“How exactly is it different? Explain.”

My mind is confused and my ears are buzzing. “Maybe it’s not different, but I’m not Marcus.”

“Is it pride, Mayara? Is pride more important than your love? Than your heart? Than everything we have?”

“What do we have?”

He rests his forehead on mine. “I love you.”

I close my eyes, trying to find the lie in his words, trying to tell myself he’s fooling me, but then I feel his lips touching mine, the sheer force and emotion of his kiss melting away all the doubts in my head, erasing all the fears, dissolving all my anger.

His strong arms pull me closer, then he breaks the kiss and whispers, “Come to my room.”

His voice feels like fingers trailing down my neck, my body, reaching into my core, igniting a fire there—except that the fire turns into that stupid staff, burning again. The vision is so disorienting that all my desire fades at once.

“Wait,” I say.

“I’m the most patient man in the world, Mayara.” He kisses my ear, then licks my neck, raising goosebumps in his path, and I feel like I’m two different people in one single body.

One Mayara wants to go up to his room right away and feel the prince’s heat against hers. The other Mayara still wants to get away from Alayel, still thinks he’s lying, or at least deceiving her.

“What if your father wanted you to marry someone?” I ask, even if I want to close my eyes and let him kiss me, even if I want to forget all my caution. “Some noblewoman, let’s say?”

“It doesn’t matter who I marry; I’ll still love you. And we’ll be discreet.”

His words hit me like a crashing wave, awakening a memory: my mother, no wedding ring, tied to a man who showed up once in a while. How did she accept that situation? How did she come to that? Did she trust half-promises? Latch onto crumbles of love?

I understand her now, understand the temptation to grip onto what you have, grip it tight and savor the love you’re given, and yet I want to walk a different path.

There’s no more inner argument within me, and I push him away. “I can’t. I can’t, Alayel. I won’t be someone’s secret.”

He looks down, his face so sad that it looks fake. “You’re saying you don’t love me enough?”

“No. I’m saying I love myself enough. I don’t want pieces of love. I want everything.”

He shakes his head and lets out a sad chuckle. “I wish the world was different, but it isn’t. All I’m asking is for some patience. Just some patience. Don’t you want to be queen?”

“Queen? Or mistress? I’m not going to be the other woman.”

“I’m not going to get married. I might never get married!”

“But it could happen.”

“What if I promise it won’t happen, or if it does, it won’t last? I can poison her on the wedding night or something.”

“Slash her throat, perhaps?” I’m not sure why I mention that.

“Sure. Whatever you want. You command my heart, and there’s only you.” He takes my hand, and in the darkness of a single lumos jar, he looks so beautiful. “There will always be only you.”

“I can’t.” The words stab my own heart. “If we’re meant to be, then one day we’ll find each other again, when we no longer have to hide. There are more ways to be patient.”

“Why?” His eyes have a dangerous glint. “Are you that desperate to fuck other men? Is that it?”

At least his tone makes me certain of my choice. “Whoever I fuck, I don’t want it to be some secret, that’s all.”