“Three actually. There is also the castle dining hall on the bottom floor.”
“Right.”
“Where would you like to sit?”
I sat nearest the door but didn't dare take the chair at the head of the table. Tor'rien was generous in many ways, but I had a feeling that when it came to certain traditions—those that showed respect for his status—he would demand they be observed. And, to be honest, I didn't give a shit where I sat.
Tor'rien sighed as he took the seat on the end and it seemed as if he shed the cloak of nobility as he did. “Tekhan, this has greatly upset me. I want you to be comfortable here.”
“Why?”
“Because you'll be here a lot. Possibly . . .”
“Possibly what?”
He shrugged.
“You think I might be your mate?”
“Yes.”
“I don't agree.”
His brows shot up. “Why?”
“We are too different. A poor match.”
“A poor match?” The King laughed brightly. “We are perfectly matched.”
I frowned at him. “I am your opposite. You are lightness and beauty. I am darkness and ugliness.”
He lost his grin. “You are neither dark nor ugly. Why would you say that?”
“I know myself.” I held up a hand when he started to protest. “I know I'm handsome. I'm saying that compared to you, my nature is dark and myworldis ugly. You, however, are surrounded by light.” I waved an arm out to indicate that even in the dining room, where most people paneled their walls in dark wood, the ambiance was bright and cheery, the walls painted a buttercup yellow and the chairs upholstered in gold-threaded tapestry. “I am not unhappy with my ugly world. In fact, I need to be a claw. Without that—” I shook my head, trying to find the right word, “—outlet, I would go mad. And that, in itself, says a lot about me. I admit that I am both fascinated by and drawn to your light. But it's in the way of a dark, ugly moth to that beautiful flame. I'm afraid, Your Majesty, that you will consume me until there is nothing left but ash. And you will not even be aware that you're devouring me. Just like a flame, it is simply your nature to burn.”
The King's expression had sunk deeper and deeper into horror as I spoke. When I finished, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and would have tried again, but that was when a few servants arrived with covered platters. They set them down, sentencing us to silence while they worked, and then bowed to the King.
“Thank you.” The King cleared his throat. “That's all.”
The staff left, and the King stared at me.
“May I?” I waved at the food.
He nodded.
“Would you like me to serve you?” I asked.
“No,” he whispered. Then he growled, “No, I don't want you to serve me! All you do is serve, Tekhan. Cease. For fuck's sake, take a day off.”
“I serve justice and your law, Your Majesty. I hold them even higher than I hold you.”
“Oh, I know.” His face twitched. “And I also know I need to accept these truths about you. There is no changing you.”
“Ah,” I murmured and focused on the food, my heart sinking.
They always wanted to change me. The difference was—Tor'rien had succeeded. He just didn't know it. And I wasn't going to tell him. Because even changed, he didn't like the way I was. Unsurprising, but hurtful. I had thought he was different. He said he was. He complimented me all the time. But now, with my candor, I had given him permission to do the same—be brutally honest.
“Tekhan, I'm sorry I said that.” Tor'rien took my hand, stopping me from scooping up some buttery vegetables. “You must know that I deeply respect you and I adore you just as you are.”
