Spell It Out for Me

by Sarina Dorie

  I continued to the woods. The moment I stepped into the trees, Elric whispered my name. For once he didn’t sneak up on me. He embraced me.

  I squirmed away, too angry to be hugged. “Why didn’t you tell me? How could you have kept this from me?”

  “You say it like you think I lied to you. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. My personal history has always been a public record to all Witchkin and Fae. That’s how it is when you’re royalty.”

  “But you didn’t tell me. You know everything about every relationship I’ve ever had. Every horrible detail. But you didn’t share this with me.”

  “I already told you, I’m sorry. Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Why did they live such short lives? You only were married to each one fourteen years on average.”

  “That isn’t true. Ethel and I were married nearly sixty years. Olivia and I were married forty-five years. But in the early years, there were plagues and accidents.” His voice rose in agitation. “Do you think I was always as strong as I am now in healing magic? And then there was my family. I didn’t know they were cursing and hexing my wives in the beginning. I didn’t know my sisters and brothers were jealous of my children and they murdered them because they couldn’t have any themselves. They said they were happy for me each time we brought a new heir into the world, but their smiles were lies.”

  His face turned red as he blustered on. “My first wives lived a couple years each. Only when my father saw that our family’s best chance for outsurviving the Raven Court was me—since I was the only one having children—he forbade my siblings from killing my heirs.” He sucked in a breath. “Do you know what it is like to see those you care about fall victim to Fae?”

  “Yes.” I thought of Derrick. Chase. Martin.

  “I suppose you do.”

  My anger diffused as he embraced me. He shook with emotion. Reviving the past had obviously affected him. No wonder he didn’t talk about these women.

  I stroked his silky hair. “Did you love them?”

  “Yes. All of them. Except Madeline, but that was more because we fell out of love than because I never loved her. I would have divorced her if such a notion had been invented, but that was in the days when royalty simply beheaded wives they didn’t like—which I didn’t do. I set her up in a cottage of her own where we wouldn’t argue with each other. She lived quite comfortably.”

  This sounded reasonable.

  “What about your mistresses? Why did you have mistresses if you loved your wives?”

  He kissed me. I didn’t resist. I wanted him to convince me he wasn’t a womanizing scoundrel.

  “Clarissa, there is a difference between love and sex. I married for love—as unpopular of an idea as it was to do so in that era by royalty—and still is among most Fae. It created quite a stir in the Silver Court—one of the main reasons my family tried so hard in the beginning to get me to stop. It was bad enough I was sentimental, but that I had to tie myself to what they considered inferior humans, Morties and Witchkin, it was insufferable.

  “However, once my father saw that my liaisons produced heirs, he insisted I take mistresses when my wives grew too old to ‘be useful’ as he put it. That way I could sire more offspring. It was never a secret with my wives. Most of them tolerated the idea, seeing the practical nature of it. And for those who didn’t, we made compromises.

  “Perhaps you fear I would treat a wife with cavalier inattention. But taking a mistress was no trifling detail. Not to me. They were heavy decisions each time that required the serious weight they deserved.”

  The anger and hurt I’d felt earlier settled into a lump in my gut, still there, but not flooding through me and making it hard to think clearly. I leaned against him.

  “So you are willing to be monogamous?” I asked.

  He pulled me closer and covered my face with kisses. “Indeed. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy.” He stroked the hair from my face. “Do you feel better?”

  “Mostly. It’s still kind of a shock.” I leaned my head against his chest. The gentleness of his touch was therapeutic. “There’s something else though.” It was embarrassing to talk about, and I didn’t know how he would take it.

  “What else can I reassure you about?”

  Already I felt tongue-tied. I spoke slowly so I wouldn’t stumble over the words. “Sexually transmitted infections and diseases.”

  He held me at an arm’s length, looking into my face. “I beg your pardon? Do you mean venereal diseases?”

  “Yeah. You’ve had a lot of partners. How do you know you don’t have syphilis or chlamydia or something worse? Do Fae get tested for those? Can you get those diseases?”

  “This is what worries you?” He laughed. “Indeed. Fae can get most diseases that humans can. The difference is that we can sense them and stay away from them if we choose. Many human illnesses can be cured with Fae magic, though I have found my magic doesn’t diminish certain wounds related to electrical burns, cancer caused by toxins, and other diseases related to human-crafted poisons. All my previous lovers were free of diseases. Therefore, I am as well.”

  Thus far, Elric had seemed completely forthcoming, but what if he was wrong? “But how do you know for sure. Have you been tested?”

  “Not in the sense I think you mean, though I assure you, I’m clean.”

  I didn’t have a huge history with men. I only had one previous sexual partner, but I had dated before Derrick. I had heard women complain about getting diseases from men who claimed they were clean. It didn’t mean they were.

  Then there was the matter of the Fae Fertility Paradox to think about.

  “When we decide to be sexually intimate, we need to use condoms,” I said.

  “A sheath? But why? It will be uncomfortable for the both of us.”

  “I don’t want to get pregnant.”

  “If you did get pregnant, I would take care of you. I would marry you.”

  “I don’t want to get married because I get pregnant. I want to marry someone I’m in love with, and later when it seems like it’s a good time in my life, then have children.”

  “That seems reasonable. You have said you are in love with me.” He dropped to one knee. “Clarissa Lawrence, will you marry me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The Witchkin Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest

  Marriage? We’d already discussed this. He had seemed aware I wasn’t ready to get married before. Maybe he thought this was what I wanted, but we hadn’t been dating long enough for this.

  “Can you get up?” I tugged on his hands until he stood. “I do love you, but I’m not ready for marriage. I would like for us to keep dating for a while first.”

  “I see. Indeed, of course.” He coughed, and from the way he looked away, I could see he was embarrassed. “So that means we’ll either be waiting until after we marry for sexual intercourse, or I will be wearing . . . sheaths.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you ready for sexual intercourse?”

  I considered it. I loved him. I trusted him. I’d grown more comfortable and didn’t fear he was going to drain me or kill me because of my affinity. He made desire swell inside me when he touched me.

  “I think I am,” I said. “I probably should find us some condoms.”

  Wow. Was I ready for this? Yes, I was. A thrill of excitement fluttered through me.

  He kissed me. Heat flushed to my face. My knees went weak. I yearned for him.

  He broke away. “Might I ask you a question now?”

  I nodded, too breathless to speak.

  “You are certain you’re in love with me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you ready to profess this before my father’s court?” He rushed on. “I don’t want this bargain and contract looming over us. It’s the kind of thing that could make you resent me. I want you to prove you love me before anything happens th
at might make you . . . fall out of love with me.”

  “I’m not going to fall out of love with you.”

  “If my father continues to meddle and gets his way, you might. And he isn’t the only one interfering in our affairs. I’m going to contact his counselor to arrange an appointment so you can profess your love formally, and we can put this contract behind us. That is if. . . .” He wet his lips, looking pensive. “Pray, tell me. I’ve been courting you for months. Why did you suddenly look up my marriage history now? What did I say that made you doubt my love for you?”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that. You didn’t do anything.” The fact was, Elric was perfect—or nearly so. He would have been flawless if he could find a way to get along with Felix Thatch, but I couldn’t completely blame him for loathing my magical mentor.

  I tried to explain what had happened in a way that would make Elric understand the fault wasn’t his. “I found this book on Fae lineage. Or, it found me, really. It’s a library book, but it was on Miss Bloodmire’s bed. The book was open to a page about the Silver Court—about you.” I didn’t bring up my theory that Thatch had planted it in my room.

  “So Miss Bloodmire was looking up information about my family?” he asked. “That’s odd. I wouldn’t have thought she cared.”

  “She has an interest in Dox.” Though, I doubted it was that.

  “True. You have mentioned that, but your roommate is a private person. Despite this, she left a book open and on her bed?”

  I hesitated, uncertain whether I would cause more problems if I brought up Thatch. “Miss Bloodmire said the book wasn’t hers. But it was on her bed. Technically, the book belonged to the library, so that wouldn’t be a lie to say it wasn’t hers.”

  “Just as it wouldn’t be a lie to call a Witchkin who changed into a cat a familiar?” Mischief twinkled in his eyes.

  “You know about that?”

  “I’ve known for months. It’s quite amusing neither of you thought I’d catch on.” He waved me off dismissively. “In any case, if you want to know who left it for you, all you have to do is bring the book back to the library and find out whom the book was checked out to.”

  “Right.” Only, I suspected I already knew.

  He measured the apprehension on my face and understanding crossed his own. “Or if you wanted to be truly devious, you could burn that book and whoever checked it out would have to pay a fine. Wouldn’t that be entertaining?”

  I laughed. He obviously didn’t know Miss Periwinkle, the school’s librarian, like I did.

  Over the following days, I reported to my lessons with my new magical mentor. I ignored Thatch’s notes. I studied and tutored Imani and avoided Thatch at meals. I tried not to think about my potentially pending doom at the hands of the Fae. I had professed my love. It was time to go to their court and prove it.

  No pressure.

  While I was in the middle of a Gaelic study session with Imani—which we were both learning, Thatch appeared in the doorway of my classroom without warning.

  “How are the foreign language studies going?” he asked.

  “Great!” Imani held up the quill she had been using. “We’re writing our vocabulary words in calligraphy. It’s so cool. Miss Lawrence makes learning fun. Do you want to see what I made?” She jumped to her feet and waved the paper in front of his face.

  I stood, feeling the need to put distance between us. Warily, I watched him.

  He painted a smile across his face. “Very nice. You’re lucky you have such a creative teacher.” He looked to me. “Imani also needs to continue her studies with her affinity. How has that been coming along?”

  I allowed Imani to do all the talking. She was a cheerful bubble of energy that made it hard to keep up the cold front I needed to deal with Thatch.

  The smile remained tight on his face. “And what about you, Clarissa? How are your studies coming along?”

  Once, I would have rejoiced that he’d crossed the milestone of informality and felt comfortable enough to call me by my given name. Now it sounded wrong in my ears.

  “It’s Miss Lawrence,” I corrected.

  Thatch inclined his head in an apology.

  Imani looked from me to him. “I think I’ll be going now.” She started toward the door.

  I linked my arm through hers. “No. You’re staying right here.”

  She grimaced.

  “How are your studies going . . . Miss Lawrence?” Thatch asked.

  “Fine. Great. Thanks for asking.”

  “I wondered when we might be able to schedule an appointment for your next session.”

  Never. Not that I could say that in front of Imani.

  “I’m good,” I said. “I’ve been managing pretty well on my own.”

  “It’s dangerous for you to try to control your affinity after your . . . attempts to bring it back. If something goes wrong and no one is around, you might experience the same pain or loss of control you did before.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not managing it by myself.” Too late I realized I had just given away that Elric was helping me.

  Understanding crossed his eyes. He gave one curt nod.

  Imani shifted from foot to foot, shuffling in the socially awkward dance I knew too well from my own life.

  “Well,” he said.

  I tapped my foot. “Are we finished?”

  He drew a packet of papers from his breast pocket. “I believe Imani is ready for more challenging lessons when dealing with her affinity. Do you concur?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He bumbled on with uncharacteristic self-consciousness, nearly dropping the papers. “She’s doing well enough with her meditations and visualizations, she’s ready to progress to awareness of and control of her affinity. I’ve taken the liberty of—”

  “Don’t you always,” I said.

  He swallowed. “That isn’t fair.”

  “What isn’t fair? That you’re always taking the liberty? That you tell me what to do? Or that you always take liberties with me?”

  He glanced at Imani and back to me, not answering.

  Imani slouched, looking like she wanted to hide in a hole. “Can I go now?”

  “Yes,” Thatch said.

  “No,” I said.

  Imani pleaded at me with her eyes, but I didn’t give in.

  “I drew up a schedule and wrote a meditation script so that you wouldn’t have to,” Thatch said. “I hoped it might make your life easier if I did it for you. I thought you might appreciate it. If you want to write up your own script, all you need to do is communicate that to me.”

  “Communicate with you,” I repeated.

  “Must we do this here in front of a student?”

  It wasn’t professional, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t professional to pretend you had feelings for a coworker and then reveal you were only using her for her magic to get back at her boyfriend. “I’m not doing this anywhere with you. I don’t want to be alone with you. Ever.”

  Thatch dropped the papers onto a desk. “Imani, would you please stand over by the closet and examine the cobwebs in the corner while Miss Lawrence and I speak? That way, she won’t be alone with me.”

  Imani tried to squirm away.

  I held on tighter. “No. You’re going to stay with me.”

  She stopped struggling and sidled closer. “Miss Lawrence, don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you alone.” She gave me a fierce squeeze around the waist and patted my back.

  It felt so nice for someone to hug me. The reassurance gave me courage to face my fears. I let her withdraw. She stepped into the corner. Thatch waved a hand, and a wall of blue stretched between us and Imani, the surface rippling like water.

  “You have every right to be vexed with me,” Thatch said.

  “‘Vexed’? Vexed doesn’t cover it. You shot a fireball at me. Not at him, at me.”

  “It wasn’t a fireball. It was a spell to undo any enchantments
he has over you. I wanted to be sure you left of your own free will, that you weren’t magically coerced.” His gaze flickered to the amulet I wore around my throat.

  I smoothed my fingers over the stones. “Why? Are you the only one allowed to magically coerce me?”

  “I made an error of judgment. I hurt you, and for that I apologize. There are a thousand things I should have done differently in my life. That is at the top of the list.”

  “Like not try to be manipulative? Like not planting that book in my room?”

  He tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows drawing together. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t stepped into your quarters, nor have I placed any book within. What was this book exactly?” His eyes narrowed. “Is this the journal? Loraline’s journal?”

  “No.” I couldn’t tell if he truly was confused or he was trying to misdirect me. I glanced at Imani in the corner examining posters on the walls. Had I been her, I might have snuck off when no one was looking, but she remained, close but not intrusive. She was loyal.

  Thatch cleared his throat. “When I say I’ve made mistakes, I mean to say . . . ahem.” His words came out in an uncontrolled nervous burst unlike his usual slow monotone. “I should have told you how I felt months ago instead of waiting until now when you have a boyfriend. I should have supported you in the bargain you thought up and backed up your choice to fall in love with Elric. If I could go back and change any of that, I would.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I wouldn’t undo that. Not for anything. All I can think about is how sorry I am that I waited that long to do so.”

  Regret and shame bubbled up inside me, followed by anger. Yes, he should have told me this months ago. It was unfair he had to choose now to tell me he had feelings like a normal human being.

  I shook my head at him. “You aren’t allowed to do this. I am not going to forgive you so you can do the same thing again.”

  His lips pressed into a line. “I can understand that. You don’t need to forgive me.”

  “And I don’t want you to try to hug me or. . . .” I struggled for the right words. “I don’t want you to try to groom me so that I’ll be compliant with you taking advantage of me.”