Page 122 of Between Two Kings
Tem accompanied Gabriel to the village before setting off for her parents’ cottage.
She didn’t just crave the comfort of her mother. Tem also wanted to see her father. He was the only person she could ask about the bloodletting.
Her mother was in the garden when she arrived. “Tem,” she said. “What brings you here?”
“I…”
How to answer? There were so many questions she needed to ask, and they were all for her father. But Tem was not yet ready to ask them. So she said, “I just needed to get away.”
Understanding passed over her mother’s face.
They spent the day together, pulling weeds and tending to the garden. Tem found peace in the manual labor, allowing it to lull her into a trance. It wasn’t until late afternoon that she finally went inside, leaving her mother to finish the last of the work.
Her father was at the kitchen table. “My child,” he said as she sat down. “What ails you?”
Tem found it significant that he immediately knew something was wrong. He may have been absent for her entire life, but he understood her as if he hadn’t been.
“The royals are bringing back the bloodletting.”
Shock passed over his face. “That…saddens me,” he said simply.
Tem saw the grief in his eyes. She was about to make that grief worse. “They asked for volunteers, so I…” She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to sadden him even more.
Kronos held up his hand. “Temperance,” he said quietly. “I do not wish that for you.”
“I know.”
He had suffered for so many years—decades—in that cold, dark dungeon. And now his daughter would do the same.
“It’s the only option,” she continued. “If I give them a supply, no one else has to.”
He pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. Tem knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t try to change her mind. Her father was not like Caspen, imposing his opinions on everyone; he was reserved and tolerant and kind. He knew why she had done this.
“Will it hurt?” Tem asked. By the look on his face, she already knew the answer.
“At first,” he said. “And then your hands will go numb. It is not so bad after that.”
Dread twisted her stomach. “Will there be aftereffects?”
Kronos sighed.
She hated that she had to ask him this—hated the fact that she was forcing him to relive it. But she had to know.
“It will weaken you,” he said. “It may impede your ability to transition.”
Tem shrugged. That hardly mattered. “I can’t transition anyway.”
Her father frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Caspen has to help me. And even then, I can barely manage it.”
Her father straightened. “How long has that been the case?”
“Since the wedding. Why?”
A pause.
“What is it?” Tem asked.
