Page 23 of The Prince's Sacrifice

“What if I’m not magical enough?”

“Two Unremarkable people can Tendril,” Tor reminded him gently.

Pel knew that. He knew that it was something that anyone could do, and he couldn’t decide if he appreciated that Tor was taking him seriously or if he was annoyed that he was being so patient and rational when Pel was being ridiculous.

Suddenly, Tor winked at him.

“Did you want to find out if we can Tendril in ridiculous ways? We could see if we can Tendril while on horses. Or while we’re naked. Or with our eyes closed while hopping on one foot. If anything goes awry, we would absolutely be able to blame the situation.”

Pel shot the man an incredulous look even as his lips tried to twitch up into a smile. “You aren’t helping. Stop talking.”

Tor stopped talking with a look of such pure innocence on his face that Pel couldn’t help but laugh. And the tension in his shoulders seemed to have drained away. He was still mildly terrified, but in a more manageable way.

Tor waited another moment and then offered, “We don’t have to do it now.”

“I want to do it now!” Pel snapped.

Tor didn’t say anything to that, just raised an eyebrow.

Pel cleared his throat, feeling his face heat. “Sorry. That’s, uh, probably not the way to handle Tendrilling, is it? Sort of less romantic if you’re snapping at one another?”

“Hey, I wasn’t snapping at anyone,” Tor pointed out, still with that supposed innocence.

Pel let out another bark of laughter, and Tor beamed at him. When he tugged Pel into his arms, Pel didn’t resist, and he leaned into the kiss that the other man initiated, getting lost in the warmth and heat of the man’s mouth, the soft connection that didn’t demand anything more.

Tor eventually pulled back. “I really want to do this with you. But I feel like I’m stressing you out.”

Pel could only laugh. “I’m the one who asked you.”

He’d seen how everyone reacted to him once they heard his name and realized he was Unremarkable—if they didn’t already know, because the gossip that King Forex’s middle child had Manifested with the lowest strength of magic had spreadeverywhere. Princess Terila hadn’t even let him get past his name, and he’d intended to Tendril with her only because his father had sent him to Vayrin for that exact reason, to try to gain her favor and court her.

Unlike everyone else Pel knew, Tor had admitted to wanting to do this—he just hadn’t wanted to ask Pel for something hewasn’t ready for. Tor had been overwhelming in his enthusiasm. The only thing that was holding them back was Pel’s nerves. He could put it off, and he knew that Tor would let him, but that would mean going through this again later, which seemed suddenly insupportable.

Pel squared his shoulders. He needed an answer more than he feared it.

He drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. And then he deliberately held out his hand. “I really want to Tendril with you.”

Tor was looking at him carefully. “Yeah?”

And that was one of the reasons Pel loved Tor so much. He let Pel make his own decisions, but he was always careful of his feelings.

So Pel smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah.”

Tor wrapped his hand around Pel’s, steady and strong. Pel watched, transfixed, as magic welled up from Tor’s skin, until it was like starlight was Tendrilling out from his hand in every direction—just waiting for something to latch onto, only Pel was gazing in awe and not doing anything.

He’d never risked doing this. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, and he wasn’t prepared to have his feeble efforts compared to the marvelous things that first Bavil and then Larexa could do. They had so much more magic. Larexa could create an entire shield, just like Tor could, a visible testament to her strength. Bavil could Mantle his sword and shield with pure magic, making him stronger and better protected in battle than Pel would ever be.

Pel shouldn’t be making comparisons, he knew that, but… He wanted Tor so much, and for some inexplicable reason, Tor wanted him, too. He was waiting patiently right now, making no move to withdraw his hand or urge Pel into faster action, giving Pel all the time he needed to be ready.

Throat constricted, Pel closed his eyes. He thought of his magic, which he so rarely did. He’d always envisioned it as a tiny ball, squished into a corner of his chest somewhere. He couldn’t Mantle anything. He certainly couldn’t make a self-sustaining shield or an avatar from pure magic. But he was supposed to be able to Tendril and bond—two things that he’d thought he’d never have occasion to do.

He could still remember the moment when King Forex had Tendrilled with him, if you could call it that, confirming his extremely lacking magical strength at his Presentation. Pel had already known, of course. One flashing moment where his magic had rippled across his skin as he’d Manifested, and then… nothing. Illustrious sometimes glowed for hours when they first Manifested. Extraordinary, or so Pel had heard, usually had magicburstout of them in some sort of glorious display.

One little flicker for Pel. He’d known then, of course he’d known, but there’d still been a tiny part of him that had hoped there was some sort of misunderstanding. He’d never told anyone how hard he’d tried, how fiercely he’d attempted towillhis magic to do more, tobemore… until that moment standing in front of his father, when King Forex had Tendrilled him and given him his suffix. He wasPelun, the most disappointing of the King’s children.

So Pel had buried that tiny ball of magic and tried to excel in other ways. It had mostly worked—except for all the ways in which it had been a terrible idea, because Pel now actually wanted to Tendril but didn’t have the slightest idea what he was doing.

“Think about stretching out.”