He laughs again. “You’re probably right.” Then he swims off, whistling.
I stand in the water, watching the sky, and try to scrub the jealousy out of my bones. It doesn’t work. Every time I think about Alette smiling with Sylvian, all I can think about is how wonderful it was when it was just her and I, and the sound of her laughing with me.
Cassius eventually gets in the water, swims around like a fish, and then spends a little time washing his pale white hair. But unlike when I’ve seen him in water in the past, he doesn’t look happy. He looks on edge. And he leaves the water before any of the rest of us.
After a while, I get out and find a patch of sun to dry in and play with my magic. Cassius is there, arms folded, watching the wind make patterns on the lake as I nudge it with my mind. He glances at me, then nods toward where Alette had disappeared behind the water plants.
“I’ve never met a woman who’s that shy about being seen naked. Is it a human thing?”
Oberon and Sylvian pop out of the water, putting their cleaned clothes out beside ours. When had they dragged them in to wash them? I have no idea. They both look toward her, and then back at us. I can tell they heard us talking about Alette.
Oberon replies grumpily, “She knows we’ve seen women naked before, right?”
Cassius sighs, like we’re all stupid children. “It’s obviously because she’s a virgin,” he says, like this is a perfectly normalobservation to make about the girl who just survived a worm honeymoon with me.
Oberon snorts, flicking water out of his ears. “She is not.”
“She absolutely is,” Cassius says. “You can tell. The way she looks at us like we’re about to set her on fire. She has no idea what to do with men.”
There’s a long, uncomfortable silence while we all process this. None of us could be sure, but it was certainly a possibility. Virgin or not, she was without a doubt inexperienced.
Sylvian shrugs, but there’s a blush on his cheekbones. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met a virgin, but it makes sense, after my… uh, experience, with her.”
Oberon grunts, and for a second I think he’s going to drop it, but then he says, “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s just rare. You ever meet a fae woman who hasn’t at least—” He makes a vague gesture, then goes quiet.
I want to say something. Anything. But all I can think about is Alette, alone down the shore, her hair probably wet and tangled, her bare feet leaving little prints in the mud. I wonder what it feels like to be so unique. So smart and wonderful.
Does she even know how incredible she is?
I remember her hands in mine. The taste of her mouth. The ring on her finger, that matches mine. I think about Cassius’s words, saying she has no idea what to do with men. I think about the way she reacted when we kissed, but also the caution she showed.
Would she be more comfortable with pursuing things between us if we talked about all these unspoken things?
I want to find her, to tell her it’s okay, that she can be whatever she wants. That I won’t rush her, or pressure her. I’m a man, but I could wait forever for a woman like her, I think.
But before I can stand, Sylvian says, “You know, for a bunch of immortals, we’re pretty bad at talking about feelings.”
Oberon opens his mouth, then shuts it, which is funny in its own way.
Cassius glances around at all of us. “Maybe talking like this is what the fae really needs to do if we ever want to change from tolerating each other to respecting each other.”
He’s not wrong.
“I wouldn’t mind a little more talking,” Sylvian says, followed by a shrug.
Right now, there’s one person I want to talk to more than anyone else. One person who needs to know she can walk beside me, laugh with me, and talk. Things don’t need to be awkward between us. We can let our relationship grow as slowly as she wants.
I stand and say, “I’m going to check on her.”
“She might not appreciate you interrupting her when she’s bathing,” Oberon says, giving me a dark look.
“I’ll make my presence known and get permission before I get closer,” I reassure him, even though it’s a little insulting that he thought I’d do otherwise.
I walk down the shore. The rocks are wet, slick, but I’m carefully picking my way through them, head down. Before I know it, I’ve reached the plants. I open my mouth to call out, when I spot her. She’s thigh-deep in the water, just her bra and underwear on, hair loose and wild. She’s scrubbing at her arms like she’s trying to get rid of the last week, or the last lifetime. Her back is to me.
I almost turn back, upset with myself for seeing her when I shouldn’t have, knowing I’ll embarrass her if she sees me watching her. But then, there’s a sound, a ripple that isn't hers, something big is in the water.
She freezes.
