(Author's note: This scene is with the real Chase Dubois)
Tilly Ann
I spent the next two days hiding in the library.
Not because I was reading. I hadn't turned a page in hours. But because the library was the one place no one thought to look for me.
No mother with knowing eyes. No brother with smug questions.
Most importantly, no Chase Dubois with his infuriating smile and his impossible, maddening, soul-breaking voice.
I'm in love with you, Chase
I slammed the book shut.
"Shut up!" I muttered. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I say that?!
A knock made me jump.
"Go away, Kessington."
"It's not Kessington."
Lorna's voice—one of my closest friends with the exception of Jovina and Electra.
I exhaled—relief mixed with disappointment, which was ridiculous because I hadn't been waiting for anyone.
I hadn't.
"Come in."
She slipped through the door with a tray of bread and cheese and something that smelled like mulled wine. Her face was careful.
The face she wore when she was about to say something I didn't want to hear.
"You've been in here for two days."
"I've been reading."
"You don't read, Tilly Ann" she pointed out bluntly. " You've been hiding."
I looked at her. Couldn't remember the last time we spoke to each other. It was like one day she decided to stop being my friend. No explanation whatsoever.
"What do you want, Lo? I thought we were ignoring each other"
"I didn't come here to discuss that. Why are you hiding?"
I picked up another book.
"I've been reading." I gestured at the stack of books beside me—history texts, dragon lore, a treatise on trade routes I'd never actually open. "Productively."
Lorna set the tray down and sat across from me, tucking her legs beneath her skirts.
"Kessington says you've been muttering to yourself a lot."
"Kessington talks too much."
"He also says you've been asking about the Lycan delegation. When they're leaving. Where they're staying. Whether anyone has seen Chase."
My face went hot. "I haven't—"
"You asked Jovina. She told me."
I closed my mouth. Pressed my lips together. Betrayed by my own friends.
"Tilly." Lorna's voice softened. "What happened between you two?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing doesn't make a person hide in a library for two days."
"Nothing happened"
"Tilly—"
"Nothing happened, okay?" I yelled at her. "I don't know what he is. I don't know what I am when I'm around him. I don't know anything anymore, Lorna. I look at him and I want to punch him and kiss him and scream at him and—" I stopped. Swallowed. "And he looks at me like I'm nothing. Like I'm just another girl in a long line of girls. And I hate him for it."
Lorna was quiet for a long moment. Then: "That's not hate, Tilly."
"Lo, please"
"That's not what hate feels like."
"How would you know?"
"Because I've hated people." She leaned forward, her dark eyes steady. "Hate is cold. Hate doesn't make your hands shake. Hate doesn't make you hide in a library for two days because you can't stand the thought of seeing someone walk past you without looking your way."
I stared at her.
"That's not hate," she repeated. "That's something else."
I looked away. My throat was tight. My eyes burned.
"I can't," I whispered. "I can't —"
"Tilly."
"I can't."
"Tilly—"
"I love him, okay!" I screamed at her.
"He's everything I swore I'd never want. He's careless and cruel and he flirts with every woman who breathes in his direction. He touched me like I mattered and then he walked away like I didn't. He—" My voice cracked. "He made me feel seen, Lo. And then he made me feel invisible. In the same day. In the same hour. And I don't know which one is real. I don't know if either of them is real. And worse... I still want to marry him"
Lorna reached across the table and took my hand. "Tilly?"
"I'm not hiding because I don't know how I feel about him" Tears dropped down my cheek. "I'm hiding because I do."
The words came out before I could stop them. They hung in the air between us, ugly and honest and terrifying.
Lorna just squeezed my hand.
"Then stop hiding," she said. "Go find him. Talk to him. Not everyone has that chance. I see the way he looks at you—
"I told him. He doesn't love me back" I admitted.
I looked at her. Really looked. There was something in her eyes—a shadow of an old hurt, an old story she'd never told me.
"Well, he lied."
"Lorna—"
"Don't be me"
I reached out to her. "Oh Lorna. You are still in love with my brother, aren't you?"
"Don't." She stood up, smoothing her skirts. "This isn't about me. This is about you and the infuriating man you're supposed to marry. So go. Before you lose your nerve."
She left the tray of bread and cheese and slipped out the door, quiet as a ghost.
I sat there for a long time.
Then I stood up. And went to search for him.
I found him in the armory.
Not the old, abandoned one—the real one, where the guards stored their weapons and the smiths sharpened their blades.
He was sitting in his wheelchair near the far wall, staring at a sword laid across his lap.
He didn't hear me come in.
I watched him for a moment. The way his shoulders curved inward. The way his hands rested on the sword but didn't grip it. The way his shadow stretched across the stone floor, long and thin and lonely.
This was the Chase I'd seen in the receiving room. The hollow one. The tired one.
Not the man who'd won the tournament. Not the man who'd laughed with his hand on the blonde's waist.
This was the man who'd held me while I couldn't breathe.
"Chase?"
He looked up.
His eyes were red-rimmed. Exhausted. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"Tilly." His voice was rough. "You shouldn't be here."
"You said you didn't love me back"
He blinked. "I never said that"
He returned the sword to it's place.
Something flickered across his face.
"Then what did you say?" I asked him.
He wheeled himself closer to me. "I want to get to know you, Tilly. I want to know what makes you tick. What makes you happy. What makes you sad. I guess I am saying....I want to know you. Okay?"
I blinked. Somewhat confused. "Okay"
"There is something you should know also." it was like he was struggling with words. "That me that pins you against stuff and kiss you like I did in the arena is going away for a long time. And when he does, I hope you come to love me. And I hope to love you too"
I blinked. "I don't understand"
My husband to be finally admitting he had two personalities except he plan on sending away my favorite one.
"This is the real me, the real Chase Dubois" He said and I was quiet for a few minutes. "But I'm not the man you love, am I?" he said quietly. "I'm just the one you got stuck with me."
I didn't know what that meant. But the way he said it—like the words were razors in his throat—made my chest ache.
"Who says I don't love this you?" I asked.
He laughed. It was bitter and broken. "Go home, Matilda"
"No."
"Tilly—"
"No." I crossed my arms.
"Tilly, there are things you don't understand."
"Then explain them."
"I can't." He said
"No, you won't."
"Can't." His voice cracked. "I can't. Not without hurting a lot of people. Including you" He looked down at the sword again.
I stared at him.
This broken, exhausted, impossible man.
"You're the man I want," I said quietly. "You just don't believe it."
He looked at me. "You are right. I don't believe you"
I waited. But he never spoke again.