“He’s very manly.” I looked back at the King who was gazing back and forth between Ryan and me with a thoughtful look on his face. “You’re very manly,” I told him.
“Thank you,” the King said. “I don’t know if I want to see the painting.”
“Traitorous lies,” I said.
“So he’s a manly feminist?” Ryan asked.
“That’s a thing,” I insisted. “Everyone knows that’s a thing.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing,” the King said.
“You don’t get to have an opinion,” I told him. “You’re just a king of an entire country who has an infinite amount of responsibility and a wealth of knowledge far beyond my own and are pretty awesome. You wouldn’t know anything about it.”
“How I treasure you,” the King said, smiling quietly at me.
“The feeling is mostly mutual,” I said. “Art appreciation notwithstanding.”
“Is he toppling Meridian City?” Ryan asked, still studying the painting. “While shooting fire from his mouth?”
“It’s me taking a strong standpoint against consumerism,” I said.
“You’re profeminist and antiestablishment.”
“Exactly.”
“By having the King being a three-breasted monster shooting fire.”
“See, when you say it like that, it makes me start to regret my life choices.”
He didn’t stop the laughter that time, the smile now as wide as I’d ever seen it. “That’s the thing that causes you to regret your life choices. Nothing else. That.”
And it hit me then. How close this was to being like things once were. When I could harbor my secret love in my secret heart and banter back and forth for hours on end. My magic was an underlying current that was saying yesyesyesyes and moremoremoremore. It felt good. It felt right. I felt whole.
And I couldn’t have it.
It’s why the avoidance had been key. But somehow, Ryan had wormed his way back in.
And gods, how I loved him for it.
How I hated him for it.
I said, “Opinions aside, you’ve encroached upon a private discussion. Perhaps you should find someone else to bide your time with until your nuptials instead of wasting mine.”
It was as if I’d slapped him. There was shock on his face. Then pain. Then anger, whether at me or himself or the situation, I didn’t know. I told myself it didn’t matter. I had to do what I had to do to protect my head and heart, and if it meant being crueler than I ever thought I could be to Ryan Foxheart, then so be it.
He took a step back.
I turned away from him in what was obviously a dismissal.
He said, “Sam.”
I said nothing.
I heard his footsteps echo in the throne room as he fled.
The King watched me for a moment. The
n, “I told you something once. On the night of his promotion ceremony.”