Leander raised an eyebrow. “Like what? That we should stop bickering long enough to survive a little bit of rain?”
Jarryn forced a grin. “Maybe. Or maybe there’s something bigger to it.”
Leander was quiet for a moment. He didn’t even want to think of what the gods above them were plotting, and he would never know, stuck down on Cariun as he was.
“Is there some greater plan? For us?”
“For whom? You and me?”
“No,” Jarryn scowled. “Forus.” He gestured around, as if encompassing the world.
“Probably not.”
They fell into silence. There were a few more strikes of lightning but the horses seemed to be less startled by each one. Satisfied, Jarryn returned to his perch, Leander trailing on behind.
They both stared at the ground for a moment, the tension in the air less palpable now. Jarryn was clearly in less pain as well: his mental barriers were firmly in place, so Leander couldn’t sense what he thought of him, but he had a strong suspicion that it wasn’t entirely negative anymore.
Jarryn finally broke the silence. “You ever wonder how things might’ve been if we didn’t hate each other from the start?”
Leander exhaled slowly. “You mean if you didn’t hate me?” he corrected quietly. “More than you’d think.”
Jarryn glanced at him, catching the honesty in his tone. “Then why didn’t you ever say something? Why keep this rivalry going?”
Leander looked at him, meeting his gaze. “You were not ready to listen to me. You were so set in your mind with your preconceived notions that I didn’t have a hope of making you see reason on the strength of mere logic alone… ruled by your emotions as you were…”
Jarryn thought about that, then sighed. “Maybe we were both too stubborn,” he said slowly, scratching his neck as he considered his position. Clearly he felt some residual shame for the way he had painted Leander as the enemy in front of Caisa’s whole court.
Leander nodded his head once. “Too much pride on both sides.”
The moonlight shined down on Jarryn as he smiled. “It is a sin, after all.”
Moonlight. That must mean the storm was abating, if only a little. The mention of sins had Leander thinking back, of his ever-increasing lust for the man beside him. Oh, how he craved his sensual touch.
“Did you know who I was? That first time we met, I mean?” Leander asked. “In the brothel.”
The prince nodded.
“Why did you lie about your identity?”
“I didn’t.”
Leander snorted. “Lying through omission is still lying. Trust me.”
Jarryn’s eyebrows rose, “I would have assumed it wasobvious. I wanted to get the measure of you. It wasn’t my intention to interrupt you, but after I realised it was you… well I couldn’t resist making my assessment of the arrogant fallen demigod complete.”
“And you thought abrothelwas the best place to make your assessment of me?”
Jarryn didn’t look the least bit ashamed as his lips quirked into a smile. They fell into another silence, but this time it felt different—less awkward, more like an understanding had passed between them.
Jarryn spoke up again, quieter this time. “Do you think things could change? Between us, I mean.”
Leander studied him for a moment before replying, “I think it might. A laugh, a word, a spark that blends.”
“What has you waxing lyrical this evening? I’d not taken you for a poet.”
There was, without a doubt, something very disarming about the prince.
“You have no idea, Jarryn,” Leander finally replied after a long silence. “As you yourself said, I’m the God of Lies. Poetry falls directly under my domain.”
