Page 11 of Split or Swallow
“I don’t know the first thing about you.”
Caspen smiled a little at that. Something inside her untangled.
“The princes have chosen my students for generations. Rest assured I will not allow you to fail.”
Tem’s mouth dropped open at the revelation. If what he said was true, it meant that Caspen was the Serpent King: the legendary basilisk whose power was far superior to all the others. His reputation was exemplary in the village: people talked about him like he was a god. If what he said was true, Tem had the most coveted teacher.
Rather than easing her mind, this information did the exact opposite. Now she felt even more pressure than before. If she failed to win the prince despite being trained by the Serpent King, it would be beyond humiliating. Her mother would never forgive her.
Caspen was still considering her.
“You do not seem desperate to be here,” he said presently.
His wording was odd. Desperate?
Tem frowned. “Should I be?”
Caspen shrugged.
“Most girls are. It is an honor to be chosen by the prince. An even higher honor to eventually be crowned queen. Do you not desire those things?”
Tem thought about the question. Her mother certainly desired those things. It was the pinnacle of societal achievement and the ultimate way to transcend their simple life on the farm. She knew how badly her mother wanted her to succeed—needed her to succeed. But the truth was that it wasn’t Tem’s desire. She stood no chance with the prince. Schoolyard bullies had drilled that into her every single day since she was old enough to comprehend her place in the village hierarchy. So was she desperate to be here?
Tem found that she was.
Perhaps she wasn’t desperate in the way the other girls were—perhaps she didn’t crave the crown as Vera did—but she was desperate to be here, in her own way. She wanted nothing more than to know what all the fuss was about—to touch a man and to have him touch her—to desire and be desired. The basilisk’s voice cut through her thoughts:
“You are free to leave at any time.”
Tem snorted and immediately regretted it.
Caspen seemed amused by her reaction. “Do you not believe me?”
“I’m not exactly in a position to leave.”
The snake cocked his head.
“It is not possible to effectively teach an unwilling student.”
Tem supposed that was true.
“Has anyone ever left the training?” she asked.
“Once,” Caspen said. For some reason, it looked like it pained him to say it. A second later the discomfort vanished. “But she was not my student.”
Tem considered that. If it was true, it was unheard of. The training was portrayed as an honor for any girl born in the same year as the prince. Tem wondered why this particular information had been left out of the school curriculum. She thought of the girl who had sprinted back behind the wall, and wondered if she would one day regret it.
“Well,” Tem said, jutting her lip. “I’m not leaving.”
Caspen’s mouth twitched once more in amusement. He stepped closer, and every single cell inside Tem lit on fire.
“Tell me, Tem. Have you ever been kissed?”
Tem blushed. She’d never even come close to being kissed. She realized suddenly that she might have asked Gabriel to kiss her. He was her best friend—surely he would’ve kissed her, especially if he knew it would have settled her nerves. But it was far too late for that now. Now she was standing in front of Caspen, the Serpent King, and he expected her to be so much more than she was.
“No,” she whispered, the word a pebble in a pond.
Caspen smiled fully, baring his teeth.
