He takes a deep breath. “The last person I gave any serious thought to…was Queen Evelyn.”
I cock my head. “The Unseelie Queen of Fire?”
“The very one.” His cheeks turn rosy again. “My sister arranged our courtship. This was long before the debacle with the humans, back when meddling with my love life was an everyday occurrence for Nyxia. This time, though, I didn’t hate her choice. I liked Evelyn. We quickly developed a friendship, and I was starting to feel comfortable enough to be myself around her. But her heart already belonged to someone else. I could taste her love for him long before she chose him. It was as bright as the moon whether I was sampling her energy or not.”
“Are you talking about King Aspen?” Everyone in Faerwyvae knows about Queen Evelyn and her mate, the King of the Autumn Court. They were instrumental in winning the war over twenty years ago. A victory that shaped Faerwyvae into what it is now. An isle where humans and fae live together in peace.
He nods. “I never stood a chance with Evelyn, and it’s obvious why. Have you seen King Aspen’s antlers?” He sighs. “I suppose I had a crush on them both for a time, but Evelyn was someone I think I could have been happy with. I never felt anything close to love for her, but still…I must admit, it was quite embarrassing.”
“Rejected by a queen,” I say with a grimace.
“We’re friends now,” he says with an easy grin. “And yet, it serves as a reminder of how difficult it’s always been for me to get close to a lover. I can feel their emotions, sense if their feelings for me are lacking. I can taste the murky waters of their rejection before I have to experience it myself. I can smell one’s lies when a lover likes me only for my crown.”
My heart sinks. I stare at him, feeling like I’m seeing him for the first time. He isn’t the careless rake I thought him to be. Now that I know the tale behind his reputation, I’m ashamed of how I’ve judged him. How I’ve spoken to him. He may have said and done many things to spark my ire, but when it comes to prejudice, I’ve been no better than the humans who spread his reputation in the first place. Just like them, I believed it without question. Without proof.
“I’m sorry, Franco.”
“I told you not to pity me.”
“It’s not pity,” I say. “It’s…well, I don’t know what it is. I just hate the way the humans reacted to you during that first social season.” I’m not ready to confess my guilt over my own judgments, but I hope he knows it’s laced into my apology.
He chuckles. “Now you know why I resist getting involved with humankind in the same way again.”
“So you’re just going to keep avoiding them?”
“What else am I to do?”
I shrug. “Show them who you really are, perhaps. Be the real you. Maybe show up to these events without finding creative ways to evade talking to people.”
He quirks a brow. “Finding creative ways to avoid talking to strangersisthe real me.”
“You’re more than that.”
His gaze locks on mine. “Am I?”
My pulse quickens beneath those silver eyes. “I believe so,” I say, my voice coming out oddly breathless. He continues to hold my gaze for several moments, and each beat of my heart seems to stretch into an eternity. The silence that falls between us feels different than before. It feels heavier, fuller. For once, I don’t feel the need for it to end.
He breaks it with a groan, tipping his head back. “Damn it, Em, now I feel like I must try to prove you wrong.”
“About what?”
He waves toward the shore. “About the humans. About this rather troublesome theory you’ve developed.”
“About you being yourself around them?”
He groans again. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“I’m not making you do anything.”
“Oh, very well, but don’t twist my arm. Shall we finish our promenade?” With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he mutters, “And perhaps we can stop and converse with a few people.”
My expression brightens, but I try not to seem too impressed. “If you insist.”
He wags a finger at me. “We aren’t chatting witheveryone, all right?”
“Breezes, no,” I say, mimicking his haughty demeanor. “You’re not the only one who can hardly tolerate the gentry.”
He lets out a bellowing laugh, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. It’s a musical sound, a playful melody that has my heart feeling light. Try as I might to ignore it, there’s a very strong part of me that wants nothing more than to hear that melody play again and again.
