Page 100 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

A sheen spread over her eyes, but she steadied herself, pushing her posture upright. “Would he be a good connection to our kingdom?”

“He would… but—”

“Okay.” She cut me off. “I’ll spend time with him, then.”

“Epiphany.” My heart ached, standing there with her. The brave thing she was, her hands trembling but her gaze holding mine unblinking.

“This is my place, Cyn. I understand.”

I sighed. “Very well. I’ll have him informed that he can meet you at breakfast tomorrow?”

She wilted, like a flower in the shadows, weeping as if the sun had died and it would never see it again. But then she bobbed her head. “All right.”

“Are you okay, Pip?”

She reached out as though she might squeeze my arm but then paused. “I think I’m too dirty to touch you. But I’m fine.”

“Let me know the minute you don’t want him here anymore, and I’ll send him away.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

She turned and walked back into the stables, the light glowing around her, gleaming against her hair.

Maybe I should have sent Lord Galeson home. After all, his aunt was massively overstepping. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to let him stay, to even bring it up to Epiphany. But, no, she got to decide. Apollo sauntered out, his curls mussed.

“How was your bedtime snack?” I said.

“Fantastic.” He nudged me, and something sincere and sweet, like honey-dipped bread, swept up over his features. “How did your chat go?”

My shoulders drooped. “I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing here or not. I expected my father to be home before this presentation began. And I don’t wish to hurt my sister.”

Apollo nodded and rubbed my back. His touch coursed through me, like a glimmer of shooting stars. “Come on,” he said. “Tell me about it on the walk to your room.”

I pulled away from him. “Who said we were going to my room?”

“You did.” He smirked. “With the looks you’ve given me all day long today.”

I clicked my tongue, but he leaned in closer to me, brushing his nose against my cheek and then he kissed me, sucking my lower lip between his teeth. Everything within me melted. He was right, of course. I wanted him, desperately. Longed to have his fingers and mouth take me apart again, to taste his flesh and explore the curves and edges of his body. I should have felt ashamed that it was so obvious, that I’d let my ability to hide my feelings and keep the visage of a prince on regardless of emotions go, but I didn’t.

I groaned, but Apollo peeled away from me. “Come on,” he whispered. “You need to talk first. And then you can show me whatever fantasies you’ve imagined all day.”

“Maybe you overestimate my desires, golden boy.”

He started walking down the path. His veil had faded, and he shimmered, the stars sparkling behind him like they belonged together. I suppose they did. He laughed, the sound buzzing through me. “Liar,” he said.

I sighed again but smiled at him. “All right. True.” I side-eyed him. “Do you really wish for me to show you what I’ve thought of all day?”

That wicked expression he loved to don, all mischievousness and bright eyes, flashed over his face. “Definitely. But”—he slid his fingers between mine—“first tell me about your sister.”

I sighed because he was right. I needed a chance to discuss it, to unweave my tangled thoughts. So as we walked, I spoke of Epiphany, her younger years, how she never quite fit the mold and how we’d loved her for it. But also how that had complicated things for her. How much I wished to see her happy and how little I knew how to achieve that. Especially with the expectations society had on her. A woman was required to have a male patron, a father or male relative and, when old enough, a husband. It didn’t matter that our family differed on our perspective on that. It was what our kingdom expected. And, just as much, they wished to see her marry well, make connections that would help the kingdom further prosper. The weight of all those conventions sometimes felt unbearable. But for Epiphany they seemed truly unmanageable. And I worried that she wouldn’t hold up under the pressure.

Once we reached the lights of the palace, Apollo released my fingers, tucking his hands behind his back. And that was for the best. How might it look if staff saw the two of us as a couple? Rumors would fly like birds chased by a dog, fluttering about and stirring up the dust of gossip. That was the last thing we needed.

And, in another way, our relationship felt like a treasure. Something too precious to share. No one else understood the pressure and expectations of having the world resting on your decisions. With Apollo I could be really and truly myself in a way I never was. And some part of me wanted to keep that hidden, like the precious gem that it was.

Despite him pulling away, there was something physical in the way he listened, not interrupting other than to ask the occasional question, his head bobbing, his nearly golden eyes focused on me like this problem of mine held as much importance as the rising of the sun.