Episode 3 Sneak Peek #25

This is from some of the most recent drafts of Episode 3 (and is therefore really, really not edited). There are many, many different variables threaded throughout that I had to remove for ease of reading, but the most important ones for this are:

• This is from the Veyer branch
• MC has high approval and high romance with Aeran, but no confession
• MC went to the gala in a serithan/abberan ($garb variable)
• MC selected not to feel guilty about the events of the previous night

“Fuck,” you curse, releasing your scabbard’s straps. Balancing carefully, you slip the embroidered slipper off your foot and shake it vigorously until the offending pebble falls out. Damn shoes weren’t made for this. You should have gone back to your apartment. If Malsara had just given you time…

You can feel Aeran watching you.

“What?” you say, shoving the shoe back on your foot.

He exhales a long breath and removes his bow, Taraniel, from his back. “Do you think I’m an idiot, $nickname?” he says coldly, meeting your eyes.

[CHOICE] 1. “No.”
2. “Yes, actually. You’ve been an idiot this whole time.”
3. You know this is about Veyer. He was going to figure it out eventually. Might as well admit to it now.

Aeran’s mouth tightens. “You think I wouldn’t notice? You’re not exactly doing your best to hide it—”

Cold laughter bubbles across your lips. “You don’t know what the hell happened last night, you weren’t there,” you snarl, stalking towards him. “Don’t assume you know where I was or what I was doing.”

He pauses, his teeth scraping his lower lip as he considers his next words. For a moment you wonder whether your words have caused him to second guess himself. “Then where were you?” he asks bluntly.

So much for that.

“You never went back to the apartment, I know that much—or did you decide to wear a $garb today for fun?”

You hold his gaze, voices echoing in the distance. Veyer and the others are rapidly approaching.

[CHOICE] 1. [PERSUASION] “Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed? Maybe I find the fucking thing comfortable.”
2. [PERSUASION] [LIE] “I didn’t fuck Veyer Krellion, if that’s what you’re implying.”
3. [PERSUASION] “Stop it. We’re not talking about this now.”
4. “Why don’t you come out and say it? Let’s not dance around the subject.”
5. “Fine. I fucked Veyer Krellion last night. Happy now?”

[PERSUASION PASSED]

Aeran’s eyes widen and takes a step back, hands held stiffly at his sides. You stare at him for a long moment, observing him closely, uncertain where this is leading. Though a part of is exhilarated that you’ve successfully shoved the topic of Veyer far away, you know he knows. There’s no way in hell is doesn’t. There were plenty of witnesses last night before you and Veyer disappeared for more privacy. If your $garb doesn’t give you away, then the gossip certainly has.

So, why is he giving up this easily?

“I don’t want to fight with you, $nickname,” he says, his voice hollow. “What you do on your own time is none of my business.”

Something twists deep in your gut. “Is that supposed to be an apology?” you hiss. “This is about more than trust, Aeran. This is about you and your stupid insistence on keeping secrets—”

“Because we’re friends?” he interrupts, meeting your eyes. “Or because it’s you?”

You pause, the rush of words evaporating in an instance. You know all too well what he means—and he’s left you nowhere to hide. “No,” you breathe. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare—”

“I waited for you, $nickname,” he says. “I know I fucked up and I am sorry—I truly am. But I honestly don’t know if I can bring myself back to that place. Not even for you.”

The raw anguish from last night returns. Your chest tightens, your heart beating stuttering rapidly within. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Liar,” you manage, your mouth twisting unpleasantly as you force the words past your lips. “You were never going to tell me about the Spire, were you?”

Aeran freezes, the colour draining from his face. He stares dully at the ground, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. But regardless of how hurt he is, you do not see an ounce of regret on his face.

“Think what you want,” he says, turning his back on you. “It makes no difference to me.”

He stalks to the perimeter, leaving you in the centre of the grove. Movement rustles behind you and, a moment later, Veyer appears at your side. They draw to a halt, their lips pressed together tightly as Malsara, Nova, and Zenaida walk by, their shadows flittering in your peripheral vision. For once, their dark eyes hold no amusement, no cheeky delight.

“Dare I ask?” they say.

You chuckle hollowly. “No.”

Veyer sighs and adjust their coat by the lapels, casting an eye across the grove. They linger on Zenaida and the Markal twins as they gather under a large tree, conversing urgently. “It seems we have a moment to spare. Would you walk with me?”

1. Accept. Judging from their tone, this must be important.
2. Decline. You’re not in the mood for talking.