Caelix Serpienne's Arc

Chapter 5 of 10

The road home had gnawed at Caelix all night. He had walked away from Inbella's door, and the wanting had not left him. Morning found him on his marble throne, one hand resting on the built-in tank where his tiny fish drifted. The little creature had a mermaid's tail and eyes too big for its body. It pressed its nose to the glass and watched him brood. "She asked me to stay," he told it. "I said no." The fish blinked, unimpressed. Slit arrived without knocking. Red-haired, red-eyed, built like a fighter, he was the one man in Obsidianvillia who spoke to Caelix as an equal. His job, he said, was keeping Caelix alive and clear of choices he would regret. He crossed the hall and stopped short. "You have a guest," he said. "At the gate. Pink hair." Caelix's tail lifted off the floor. Inbella had never come to his palace. She had made him come to her, every time. He met her at the tall doors himself. She stood in the blue light, taking in the marble, the towers, the whole opulent weight of his rule. She did not look impressed. She looked like she was measuring him against it. "You refused me," Inbella said. "So I came to see the man who did." She stepped past him into the hall. She saw the throne. She saw the fish tank set into it. She laughed, quick and bright, and knelt by the glass. The tiny fish swam to her finger. "He's yours?" she asked. "He's mine," Caelix said. Inbella watched the fish a moment. Then she stood and faced him. "I write love stories," she said. "I know the shape of one when I'm inside it. I didn't want to be. I wanted slow. I wanted to be careful." She stopped. "You walked away when any other king would have grabbed. That broke my rule for me." Caelix went still. His tail did not move across the floor. "I'm in love with you," Inbella said. Plain, no softening. "I hate that I am. But I am." Across the hall, Slit made no sound. Caelix saw his friend's jaw tighten, saw the red eyes drop to the floor and stay there. Slit turned and left without a word. Caelix barely marked it. He crossed to Inbella and took her hand, the way he had at the restaurant, light, ready to let go. She did not pull away. "Say it again," he said. "No," she said, and smiled. "Once is enough for a king's ego." He had wanted her as his mate since the first page of her book. Now she stood in his hall and called it love. The road to his heir had opened. But behind him, a door had closed on his oldest friend, and Caelix had not turned to see the wound he left.