Chapter 9 -Avianna-
\-Avianna-
I tell myself I’m going to my chambers. I make it halfway down the corridor before I stop, exhale, and turn back the other way. I know exactly where he is. Caylix stands at the entrance to the royal wing, still and watchful, like he’s carved into the stone itself. His gaze lifts the moment I step into view.
“You should be in your chambers.”
“I was,” I say lightly. “I changed my mind.”
His gaze lingers, like he knows that isn’t the full truth and he’s deciding whether to call me on it. He doesn’t.
“I want to walk through the gardens,” I add, “Before I’m locked inside for the night.”
“You’re never locked inside,” he says.
I glance at him. “No, but I am scheduled, managed, and watched to a degree that feels remarkably similar.”
Something shifts in his expression, but it disappears just as quickly. “I’ll come with you.”
“I wasn’t inviting you.”
“I know.”
We fall into step beside each other. The gardens should feel like a relief, but tonight they don’t. The quietness actually makes every thought feel louder, every feeling harder to ignore.
“I think Rhydon believes distance is strength,” I say, because I need something normal to talk about.
“Yes.”
“He won’t even talk to them like people.”
Caylix nods.
I glance sideways at him. “You’re very talkative tonight.”
“I’m agreeing with you. There’s nothing else to say.”
“He thinks control is leadership,” I continue. “Structure. Authority. Distance. Like if he holds it tightly enough, everything else will fall into place.”
“That’s quite the opposite to you.”
“Exactly,” I say. “I think if people feel seen, they choose to follow.”
Silence. Then he says, “I agree, Avi.”
We keep walking. But the quiet isn’t quiet anymore. It’s tight, alive, and I hate that I know exactly why. The market. Her hand. The way it rested against him like it belonged there. The way he didn’t move.
“You knew something was wrong today.”
“Yes.”
I stop walking. “What was it?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” His answer is too quick.
Something in me snaps. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“No,” I say, sharper now. Louder than I mean to. “You don’t react like that to something you don’t understand. You pulled me out immediately. You went straight to my father. That wasn’t nothing.”
“She wasn’t something I could identify.”
The air between us tightens. “You’re not telling me everything,” I say.
“I’m telling you what I know.”
“No,” I snap, stepping closer before I can stop myself. “You’re telling me what you’ve decided I’m allowed to know.”
Something in him shifts. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?” I push. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”
He doesn’t answer.
“You’re lying,” I say, the words quieter now, but sharper. “And I can feel it.”
His eyes flicker, just slightly.
“My truth-seeing magic is getting stronger,” I continue, my voice tightening despite myself. “You don’t like that, do you?”
“Avi…”
“No,” I cut in. “You’re not used to me being able to tell. But I can now. I can feel it when you hold something back.”
“That’s not what’s happening.”
“It is,” I say. “You’re just mad I can see it.”
His jaw tightens, barely, but I see it.
“This is my life, Caylix,” I press. “If there is a threat to me, I deserve to know.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” I challenge. “Because right now it feels like you’ve determined I’m not strong enough to handle it.”
“That’s not...”
“You’re treating me like a child, Caylix,” I cut in, the words hitting harder than I intend. “Like I need to be managed instead of told the truth.”
Silence. His control doesn’t break, but it shifts. “Avi,” he says, lower now.
“I saw her,” I say.
“I know.”
“Her hand was on you.”
“It was.”
“And you let it stay there.”
He pauses a moment. “I needed to understand what her intent was.”
“Right,” I say, something sharp slipping into my tone before I can stop it. “You were assessing her. Very thoroughly.”
Silence drops between us.
“Avi.” There’s a warning in his voice now.
And something in me knows I should stop. But I don’t. “You’re free to entertain whoever you want,” I continue, smooth now, detached, “You’re not mine to question.”
The words land. And the second they do, I regret them. Because they’re too close to the truth. Too close to something I have no right to feel. No claim to. I force my expression to stay neutral. But inside, I am already pulling it apart. He’s not mine. He has never been mine. I don’t get to feel like this.
“You don’t understand,” he says, quieter now.
“I do,” I reply. “You assessed a situation while enjoying the attention.”
“I told you, that’s not what this was.”
“Then what was it?”
He looks at me. And something almost breaks through. Not fully, but enough to make me hold my breath.
“Nothing has changed,” he says, voice low, unwavering. “There is nothing in this world that would pull my focus from you, Avi.”
The tether hums between us. Strong. Unshaken. “Feel that,” he adds.
And I do. I hate that I do. Because if nothing has changed, then why does this feel different? Why does he feel different? I take a step back.
“I’m tired,” I say. It sounds weaker than I want it to.
I don’t wait for him to respond. I turn and walk back toward the palace. In the distance, Charlotte’s laughter drifts faintly from somewhere deeper in the gardens, with Rhydon’s voice following soon after. Of course she’s with him, and honestly, I don’t care, I just need to get out of here. I don’t look back.
I make it to my chambers before I let the control slip. The door shuts, silence crashes in, and I push against the tether. Not enough to sever it, but just enough to shield my thoughts. Because I cannot let him feel this. I went too far, he didn’t do anything wrong. He assessed a threat. That’s his job. So why did it feel like…
Jealousy.
I have never needed to question what he is to me before. And I don’t know when that changed. My chest tightens. I blink hard, refusing to let any tears fall. I will not cry over something like this. I won’t. The tether hums at the edge of my awareness. It’s not as though this is new. Women notice him. They always have. It would be impossible not to, he doesn’t exactly disappear into a room. The way he carries himself, the quiet confidence, the way people instinctively move around him…I’ve seen it before, women’s glances, their attempts at gaining his attention. I’ve just never had to think about it. Because he’s never given them anything, never allowed them to even get close. Not in front of me, anyway.
Until tonight.
I force the thought down, hard enough it almost hurts. He is my guard. Nothing more.
The tether snaps tight against the distance I’ve forced between us. Like it’s daring me to say it again.