“I came to see how you are,” he replies and holds his hand out for me to help me up.
“I am shit,” I say, wiping my tear-stained face on the gown and then sneering at it in disgust. “I need to change.”
I march up the stairs and Frederick follows me to the bedroom, glancing up at the fog as it follows us.
I strip off and pull on a loose white t-shirt and a pair of black pants. The first things I saw when I opened the closet.
“White? Suits you,” Frederick smirks at me, leaning against the dresser as I get dressed.
I shrug and, leaving my feet bare, I march back downstairs to the sitting room. I stand in front of the fire, wondering how to light it. It hits me and I roll my eyes at myself. The one Fae power that I have mastered is throwing lightning and what is lightning if not a form of fire? I blast the fireplace and smile in satisfaction as the kindling roars to life.
Next, I move to the sideboard and pour myself a Scotch. A quadruple and then, as an afterthought, pour one for Frederick as well. I shove it into his hands as I pass him.
He peers at it. “More of a Vodka man, myself,” he says.
“Drink it. It’s the finest Scotch your taste buds will ever taste.”
I watch him in amusement as he gives it a hesitant sip. He nods his head and then plonks
himself down next to me to stare into the fire.
“What are you doing?” he asks me after several minutes.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I am hurt and angry and acting on instinct.”
He chuckles at me. “I always did know how to get the truth out of you. Anyone else would have gotten a whole diatribe of the irrational reasons why you left.”
I throw him a look, but then smile. “Yeah, I guess you have that way about you.”
He leans forward and brushes my hair out of eyes. His eyes go dark and his gaze drops to my lips.
“Don’t,” I say, pulling away. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” he asks.
“This. With you. I just can’t.”
“Why not? We never let it run its course. I still love you, Aefre.”
I stay silent. He is doing and saying everything that I want, need, him to. So why am I not jumping on him? A fear of being hurt again in case this is all a ruse, that’s why. He sure has picked his moment to make this momentous declaration. Making himself into the hero as everyone else has abandoned me. I’m done being a trusting fool.
“You don’t love me anymore?” he asks quietly.
“I-I c-can’t,” I stammer, pushing myself further into the corner of the deep sofa.
“You can. Quite easily. Just give me what I want. What we both want.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I can’t love you. Not in any way. It’s...it’s...”
“It’s what?”
“Forbidden,” I whisper, admitting this to him finally. It feels like a weight has been lifted.
“Forbidden?” he scoffs. “What is this? 1501?”
“You don’t understand...”
“No, I don’t...” He gives me a curious look and breathes in deeply at my sudden fear. “Aefre, what is going on?”