Page 11 of Invidia

You’re curious, I’m curious. I don’t expect anything from you.

“That goes without saying.” She’d laid it out explicitly, and I was more than grateful for what I’d had.

Grateful, and a little guilty. Tallulah hadn’t been able to see in the low lighting, obscured by the bushes, how malformed I was. If she’d known just what kind of Shade she was letting touch her perfect body, she’d be horrified. In hindsight, I almost wished I’d given her a different name, on the off chance she asked about me and someone told her how repulsive I was. Or worse, insinuated that somehow she was repulsive for letting me touch her.

On the other hand, I couldn’t stomach the thought of her calling me by any other name.

Caius nodded absently, the flux moss finally kicking in. “Good. Obviously, I don’t need to tell you this, but absolutely nothing good in life comes from wanting more. Settle for what you have, Evrin.”

While I didn’t disregard Caius’s words—he’d seen firsthand what life was like living with the fate I’d been handed—I couldn’t bring myself to stay away from Tallulah entirely. I wasn’t hoping for more. I was settled with what I had.

I just needed to see Tallulah sometimes. After she’d confided in me—perhaps in more detail than she’d intended—about how she felt in front of others, I couldn’t help but worry almost every single second that I wasn’t with her that she was struggling.

Logically, I understood that she didn’t want my support. That she’d just been sating her curiosity on me.

And yet, I couldn’t stay away.

I lingered as far away as I could outside the palace while still being able to see the front steps where Tallulah would exit after breakfast to head back to Elverston House.

The mere proximity to her seemed to help with what I could only describe as withdrawals. It was not a sensation I’d ever experienced before—I didn’t depend on others. But I’d also fed incredibly thoroughly on Tallulah, which perhaps had created this strong need to be in her presence. Power was intoxicating, after all.

Usually, Tallulah emerged arm-in-arm with one of the others, laughing loudly, her blue eyes sparkling. She had a laugh that was somehow delicate and robust all at once. I could have listened to it all day, but I never forgot that it might be a front—she’d admitted at the ball how much worry was hiding beneath that cheerful expression. But I suspected that when she was with the other Hunters, her smiles were mostly genuine. It was from my fellow Shades that the expectations came.

Today, Tallulah didn’t emerge with the others. She didn’t emerge at all, not until the breakfast crowd had cleared entirely, and even then she seemed to be dragging her feet, twisting the fabric of her dark purple dress before seemingly forcing herself to release the material and smoothing it down.

Tallulah paused at the top of the stairs, her fingers flexing restlessly at her sides, looking around as though she was searching for something. My mind supplied an image of the small gap in the bushes she’d discovered at the ball to squeeze into.

She’d looked like this then too, the moment she’d come out in the courtyard while I’d been watching her from between the leaves.

My feet were moving before I’d even consciously made a decision to speak to her. Fortunately, since the breakfast crowd had dissipated, no one saw me approach her. Tallulah was clearly having a tough enough time without that indignity on top.

“Do you need a moment?” I asked her as gently as I could, though she still jumped when I saw her. I braced myself for her rejection—especially seeing me as I was in broad daylight—but Tallulah just gave me a strained nod, her eyes wide and a little frantic. Her scent wasn’t quite signaling alarm, but it wasn’t entirely content either.

I ushered Tallulah down the steps, intending to lead her into the mazelike gardens that extended out in front of the palace, spreading out toward the barracks. They were perfectly manicured, and the plants were cut low—no good for a Shade wanting to hide away from the world, but Tallulah was significantly shorter than most Shades. I could find her a little spot to squeeze into.

“No,” Tallulah rasped, grabbing my elbow and tugging me toward the portal. “Can we go in here? Just for a moment?”

“Into the in-between?”

Tallulah nodded. It would definitely be easier for her not to be seen with me if we were in the dark, though it pricked at the remnants of an ego I had thought long since dead.

Regardless, if that was what Tallulah wanted, that’s what I would give her. I switched our positions, so I was gently holding her elbow instead, and guided us through the portal, plunging us into darkness. Although it had been her idea, I was still inhaling deeply, searching for the fear or discomfort that I was certain would come at being alone with a relative stranger in the dark, but it never came.

I navigated the dark expanse with ease, taking us to a spot that I rested at during my long shifts. The caspite that made up the in-between responded to me, pressing in close in a way that most Shades found oppressive, but I was used to.

Tallulah sucked in a breath, and I watched, entranced, as she reached out, her delicate fingers grasping at nothing. She could feel the darkness pressing in, expanding into every space it could fill, but it wasn’t solid enough to touch.

“Here,” I said, lightly tugging on Tallulah’s arm, encouraging her to sit. This was a quiet area that wasn’t on any main travel routes. I’d never been bothered here. To my shock, instead of sitting opposite me as I’d expected, the moment I was on the ground, Tallulah crawled into my lap. Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t have been shocked. She’d liked the confined nature of the spot she’d found at the ball, and the in-between was anything but confined.

My arms weren’t, though.

I pulled her crossways on my lap, cradling her in my arms, marveling at the way she seemed to fit so perfectly. Tallulah hummed softly, nuzzling her head into the crook of my neck as though it was always meant to be there, sighing happily when I cocooned us in a layer of my own shadows. We both shuddered at the sensation of my power brushing her bare skin. I didn’t know how it felt for her, but for me it felt… possessive. Like Tallulah was mine, and I had the right to cover her in my shadows whenever I pleased.

I didn’t, but in the peace and privacy of the darkness, with Tallulah’s inferior human eyesight, it didn’t matter that I was a damaged third son, or that half the realm was terrified of me. My arms were strong enough to hold her, and my shadows were dense enough to surround her, and Tallulah was content with that.

“It’s not too much?” I asked, aware of just how dark it was here. Even many Shades would find it eerie.

“Not at all.” Tallulah sighed peacefully, the sour edge of her scent slowly disappearing.