Page 218 of Split or Swallow

“This plan has been in place for centuries, Tem,” Caspen said quietly. “My father knew that eventually the training would result in a pregnancy. Even if it took years, he was willing to wait for it.”

Cold, slick doubt coated her throat.

“Is this why your father gave me his blessing? So I could perform the crest?”

To her surprise, Caspen shook his head.

“No. The ritual is sacred—it is sanctioned by Kora. He cannot wield his blessing as a weapon in our war.”

Tem didn’t know what to believe anymore. Caspen seemed to sense this because he continued:

“It was not in his best interest to approve of you, Tem. The closer you are to me, the harder it is for him to manipulate you. He honored the outcome of the ritual. You earned his blessing, I promise you.”

His words didn’t make Tem feel any better. She didn’t know if she believed him, or if she even cared. Perhaps it didn’t matter whether she’d truly earned the king’s blessing or not. All that mattered was what she’d just learned—that Bastian had plans for her—that she was meant to help the basilisks regain power.

“Do you want me to crest the royals?” she whispered.

“No,” Caspen said sharply. “I do not.”

“Why not?” Tem said accusingly. “Don’t you want your people to take over?”

He paused.

“I do wish for that,” the pause lingered a moment too long. “But it is dangerous for you to crest so many people at once.”

“I thought you said the crest was a way to gain power.”

“It is. But you have no experience wielding such power. There is no telling how it would affect you.”

Anger, betrayal, and anguish rippled through her. She was done talking about this.

“I’m going home.”

“Tem,” he said carefully. “We should—”

“I’m going home, Caspen.”

Tem couldn’t stand to be in his chambers another moment. She brushed past him without another word, ignoring the way he called her name after her, closing the barrier between their minds as she sprinted down the dark passageway. The cold morning air snapped in Tem’s lungs as she emerged from the cave and ran through the woods, not stopping until she reached her front door.

“Mother,” she cried as she barged into the kitchen.

Her mother looked up from her sewing in surprise.

“What is it, dear?”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

For a moment, her mother was perfectly still. Then she set down her needles and interlaced her fingers in her lap, looking calmly up at Tem. From the look on her face, it was clear she knew the moment of reckoning had come.

“I did not want you to feel different than anyone else,” her mother conceded.

Tem scoffed.

“It is far too late for that, Mother.”

Her mother didn’t want her to feel different than anyone else; Caspen didn’t want to frighten her. These were mere excuses, nothing more.

“It would have been dangerous if you knew,” her mother continued just as calmly, as if she’d been rehearsing her response for years. “The villagers would not have been kind.”