Page 94 of These Vile Hearts

A shadow moves in my periphery, and I turn to see Tam darkening the doorway. His eyes look even more hollow than usual, his shoulders slumped as if he’s carrying the weight of the whole world on top of them. A friend would ask him what’s wrong—ask if he’s okay. A friend would pour him a drink and try to joke a smile onto his face. But I can’t be a friend like that to him again. Not unless I complete this pact…which I am absolutely having second thoughts about.

“You’ve been uncharacteristically absent today,” I say in a monotone, facing the fire again. “Maddox could have murdered me in my sleep, you know. Or is that what you want? To be rid of me so you don’t have to tag along after the cursed prince any longer?” Even as I say it, I realize it’s less of a joke and more of a lurking fear.

Silence answers.

“So, about last night—”

Tamarind interrupts in a fractured voice. “Why did you cut me out of your life?”

The frown already on my face deepens. “Pretty sure you are more in my life than ever,” I say with a false chuckle.

His shadow doesn’t move from the doorway. “When we were young, after you were adopted. Was it because I wasn’t good enough for you? Because you got a ticket out of the Nightshade District? Or you were just embarrassed to have a friend like me?”

Everything Maddox taught me about building mental houses and locking them up vanishes. I grapple with my crumpled expression, focusing intently on the flames, which feel much hotter than they did seconds ago. “That was what? Twenty years ago? I can hardly remember last week.”

A disgusted huff leaves Tam’s mouth as he moves into my line of sight. His locs hang loose around his narrow face. I’ve always thought it made him look younger. Throwing his arms wide, he gestures at the empty room. “It’s just us here. You can close the curtain on your performance, Castor. You’re not the sensational actor you think you are.”

A nervous tremor starts in my hands. I fold them in my lap, attempting to glare murderously up at him, but I’m sure I look more like a stubborn child who’s just been scolded than the intimidating prince I’ve tried to paint myself as. “It’s not a performance.”

“Not a good one,that is certain.”

My mouth falls slightly open. He’s never spoken to me in such a brash manner before. I should do something—scold him or yell or punish him like a true prince would. I should shove him back over that delicate line between guard and friend, but it seems like he’s already crossed it. Stepped just out of my reach.

Dread spreads like a plague across my skin, hairs standing onend. But I keep pretending. “Seems as though you are the actor putting on a play. Have you forgotten thatIam the one who is meant to be masquerading as an insolent king?”

Tam ignores this, fixing me with a look that makes me feel as though I am entirely transparent. Like he can see straight through me to the other side of this wingback chair. “The day I stood up for you in the throne room—after Durian became king—I thought I would meet a new Castor. A pompous, petty prince who felt he was too good for everyone.”

“And instead you met a pathetic, selfish prince with more vices than friends. Though at least I’m devastatingly handsome to balance it—”

“By the forest gods, Castor, will you just stop pretending for two seconds,” he growls through his teeth. “You aren’t pathetic or selfish. You’re desperate for love and closeness and someone to care for you. So you sleep with random people to feel close to them. Never getting too close, of course, because you don’t want what happened to Jace to happen to anyone else. But sometimes it does, because when someone actually gets to know you, they start to see the Castor I see. The Castor I’ve seen this whole time—since that day I met you in that Nightshade orphan house. I saw you then as I see you now. Gentle and scared and caring and just so fuckingsad.”

My heartbeat thrums in my ears, pulsing like a drum. Tears prick my eyes, but I just turn back to the fire, hoping the heat will evaporate them away. “If I weren’t selfish, then I wouldn’t sleep with anyone ever. I wouldn’t speak to anyone. I wouldn’t have made this pact at all. I would have locked myself away in a room, all alone until the day I died. But I didn’t do that, of course, because Iamselfish.”

“When I was training to be a healer, do you know what disease I treated the most?”

My teeth grind together as the cloak of indifference I’ve donned begins slipping from my shoulders. I merely shake my head.

“Neglect. I trained first in the orphan homes. There were so many abandoned seedlings and saplings after the mortal axmen came through the outer forests that they couldn’t keep track. Didn’t have time or space to give the orphans more than food and a place to sleep. Many saplings became ill—not from mold or rot or disease, but from neglect. Love is a basic need, as essential as air or sunlight. Locking yourself away in a room, all alone, would drive you to madness as sure as being banished to the Bloodwood Tree.”

“Listen, Tam…” I don’t trust my voice to remain steady if I speak louder than a murmur. “I know you like to see the good in people because you’re a good person. But I need you to not look for the good in me. The harder you try, the more danger you put yourself in.”

“I don’thaveto try, Cas,” he says fervently. “It’s just there, shining like a million nightshade flowers. And you try to mask it with cruel words and harsh remarks, but that only accentuates your goodness.”

I fix him with an incredulous look. “How could thatpossiblyaccentuate my goodness?”

“Because I know you’re only acting like that to keep me at a distance. To protect me from your curse.”

“You are walking a fatal line right now. I suggest you—”

“It’s too late.” His voice breaks, and it sounds like shattering bones.

Repressed tears burn in my throat, but I’ve forgotten how to swallow them. “What do you mean it’s too late?”

He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Last night, Maddox and I were arguing about what happened at Magesté, and what happened between the two of you after the feast. She accused me of caring more about you than I let on. She accused me of loving you.”

All my internal organs sink like they’ve been filled with sharp stones. “Tam, please don’t tell me you—”

“I said that I did. That I do.”