Page 63 of A Brat's Tale
He smiles wide, but it fades. “Tristan, I’m not sure how submissive you are. You’re a brat and I worry that outside of here, there will be an all new prison for you to have to adapt to and hate me for. I love you, more than I have words to tell you and seeing your heart break, is breaking mine. I’m starting to think that … that I should never have taken you from Markaytia. I was selfish and arrogant. I had my vision and assumed that it meant all it was prophesied to be, that you would love it here. But now, I’m not sure you will. I fear the Gods are playing tricks on me.”
“No. If the Gods say it’s so, it must be so, but wasn’t it you who told me marriage is work? Maybe getting there isn’t easy, but once we arrive, it will be worth it.”
“Once again, my wise husband saves the day. It is decided then, we shall succeed because we will work with what the Gods have given us.”
Chapter 13
Ido a lot of thinking. I have been experiencing emotional whiplash—something that happens when someone stops the horse too quickly and your head snaps back and forth, then back again. I need Corrik to be Corrik, but I’ve ruined that. Corrik holds guilt over his protection methods—not enough to end them, just enough to second guess himself at every turn.
I even threw a brat-fit one day over nothing. It was a cut and dry, Tristan-needs-a-spanking, situation and all I got was a token scolding, which did nothing to soothe my itch and only pushed it further toward the brat button, needing more ofthatfeeling.
Corrik has to know. He’s too far toward the dominant end of the spectrum; he can sense what I need a mile away, but he won’t do anything about it.
This has the brat in me scheming.
Of course, I sit on the open window ledge where Corrik doesn’t like me. He won’t shut the window, but he will spank me for it, won’t he? I almost hope he’ll come in and catch me,almost. I toy with the idea of jumping off the ledge to a spot where I’m sure I can land. It’s not far and with the way the stones have worn and tapered down, I could probably make it all the way to the bottom. I knowexactly where the guards are stationed and at which times they switch off.
Corrik is sure I’ll be abducted again, not believing how much the Aldrien king wanted me gone, but I know, and therefore I know I’m safe from that fate. I could go out for a stroll, get some outdoor time, climb back up and Corrik would be none the wiser.
As if he can hear the idea brewing in my head, I hear the locks to the door begin to open and I’m quick to jump down from the ledge and hop onto the bed with my book, and by the time he comes in, it looks like I’ve been reading on the bed all along. “How are your studies?” he asks me, a smirk playing on his lips.
My studies have becomethetopic. At least it seems he wants me out of here, half as much as I do. “Horrible. I don’t get any of this stuff and therefore I can’t remember it.”
When I take the time to notice, I learn things about Corrik, things I adore, like the careful way he considers me and how he’ll approach my struggle so he can help me. He sets his sword down against the wall near the armoire where his stuff is kept, his long hair shimmering, purple eyes glinting. “I will help you, my darling,” he says.
“I’m sure you have better things to do,” I tell him. I know he does. He’s a very busy prince. His brother Alrik, whom I’ve not seen since we’ve been back—he’s even busier than Corrik—keeps him occupied.
“I have no better thing to do. You are my first priority.”
I’m an arse. I’m acting like a child. Everything Corrik does is for me and he’s asking one thing, a big thing, butonenonetheless and I can’t do it gracefully. “It’s about magic. This book claims you can’t conjure something from nothing, but I’ve seen it done.”
“Tell me when, maybe you just think you have.”
I don’t want to give an example, but I do. “When Bayaden made this hair, where did it come from?”
He runs his hand through it, in awe of it because it’s attached to my head. “Bayaden is talented, that is clear. To do this, you have to pull from the ether. The ether is Earth’s energy field, something that can be felt, but not seen and from there you can pull things or energy from other things via the quantum field.”
“What about the part where the enchantment cannot be removed?”
He nods. “Again, something only the most talented and powerful can do.” I get a proud feeling in my belly because Bayaden is mine and I am proud of what is mine. “An enchantment is a living thing; it is attached to your life force now and cannot be removed easily. I know he told you it can’t be removed, but I believe all magic, or at least most magic can be reversed. But you can bind magic to other magic; think of the ether like a thread, and intent like a sewing needle.”
“Ah. Intent. That’s the bit I was missing. Why does it not say that part in here? Seems kind of important. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult to become an Elf if the instructions were better, hmmm?”
Corrik laughs. “Tell Cupper I said to update the book. Things like that are intuitive to us, we forget others won’t have that knowledge. I would still argue it’s not so easy to become an Elf, even with better instructions.”
“Agreed. It isn’t Corrik.”
“The exception is you though, my love. This is meant to be, Tristan. It will happen.”
I roll onto my back and stare up at him. As proud as I am of Bayaden, I’m equally proud of Corrik. His mother claims he isn’t kind, but that’s not true. He just has a lot of sharpness to him, but I appreciate his sharpness; it’s what makes him a good Top. “Cor? Was Andothair very submissive?”
Corrik nods. “He was. More than you.”
“There are times I can be,” I say, suddenly wanting to be as good as Andothair.
Corrik’s onto me. “You did very well during lessons, but I think I knew even then it’s not who you are. I don’t care, Tristan. I love you. I’ve even learned to accept that you have half an Aldrien accent.” He reaches out to toy with my robe.
I decide something. “I still want to take the test in two months.”
