35. Xander

35

XANDER

X ander stood huddled outside the door to Cece's room with Isla and Jessamin at his side. Cece had been holed up inside for hours, rarely doing more than sleeping and occasionally swallowing a few spoonfuls of soup.

"When we get in there, just be gentle," Xander said. "She's had that bond with Rainer since she was six and she deserves time to mourn it."

Isla crossed her arms, glaring at him. He did not understand why she was mad at him. He'd gone along with what she said she wanted and had given her space.

"She needs to get it together," Jessamin said. "The rest of the group is counting on all of us to be ready for the wedding and we need her there. She's had a good sulk but she needs to get out of that bed and put one foot in front of the other."

Xander held up his hands. "But gently, right?"

Jessamin pushed into the bedroom. The heavy curtains were still drawn, just a slice of sunlight peeking through. The queen crossed the room and threw the curtains wide. Sunlight glanced off a tuft of dark, curly hair poking out among the blankets. The only sign of life was Cece's miserable groan .

Jessamin lifted her foot and gave Cece's body a light shove. "Get up."

"Don't be so rough with her," Xander said.

Jessamin rolled her eyes. "Darling, you're much too gentle with her."

"She needs that."

"She does not." Jessamin turned to look at her. "Is that what you need, Cece?"

"I need you to go away," Cece grumbled, peeking out from the blanket.

Jessamin yanked the blankets away and Cece groaned her discontent, hurrying to yank her twisted nightdress down to cover her legs.

Xander shrugged. "Nothing I haven't seen many times before."

Cece glared at him, but he grinned.

"I'll admit it's not the view of them I prefer," he continued. "My favorite view is when they were draped over my shoulders while I?—"

Jessamin smacked her husband's arm. "That's enough. You're not helping."

"I thought she'd at least blush, but she's impervious to my charm now," Xander said with a shrug.

Isla glared at him from across the room.

"What?" he asked.

"Why are you like this?" Isla asked.

"Like what? Charming?" he challenged.

Her jaw ticked. He wished he could stop stoking her anger, but she'd hardly given him a second look despite his best efforts. "Why do you flirt with every woman you lay eyes on?" she huffed.

Xander feigned indignation. "I hardly think it's my fault that I surround myself with exceptional women."

"Yes, but must you bed them all?" Isla asked.

"Shouldn't it be admirable that I'm attracted to strong-willed, assertive women?" he said, trying not to grin at the way her fists balled.

"Then must you remind us that you've taken all of us to bed?" she asked .

Cece perked up. "To be honest, if that bothers you, Isla, you're going to be even more frustrated when everyone comes back to court and you realize how many exceptional women he's bedded."

Xander rolled his eyes. "I'm so glad you could rouse yourself to beat me down with your cutting wit, love."

A half-smile tugged at her lips—the first sign of life all day. "Well, Xan, there are simpler ways to tell a woman you like her than flirting with your ex-wife to make her jealous."

"Yes, but are those ways as much fun?" Xander asked.

"Come now, love, you're supposed to be brave," Cece said, a taunting edge to her voice as she lobbed the words he'd once used on her back at him.

"And you're supposed to be reckless," he countered, copying her response.

"She's got you shaking in your perfectly tailored breeches," Cece said, smacking his ass as she pushed out of the bed.

"He's afraid of all feelings except for lust," Jessamin agreed.

Xander looked back and forth from his wife to his ex-wife. "Really? This is what gets you out of bed finally? Ganging up on me when I'm just here to make sure that you're well."

Cece rolled her eyes. "You two should talk. And I do mean talk , Xander." She pinned him with a look that said she knew all his games and would not be impressed with any technique but honesty.

As if stringing together the perfect words was so simple. What he had with Isla wasn't like it was with Cece and that was the entire problem. Back then, he'd had so little damage, recklessness was a reflex. The greater the danger, the more thrilling the conquest. Now that he knew what it was to lose—now that he was aware what heartbreak could do—he was justifiably wary. How could Cece fault him?

Jessamin followed Cece into the washroom, closing the door behind them until there was only the muffled sound of the two of them chatting quietly and water splashing.

Xander cleared his throat. "I'll go first. Isla, I know I am bad at this?—"

"Bad? "

"Fine. I'm terrible at this. I am—" The word was on the tip of his tongue but the fear in his chest was wild. "Afraid. I'm terrified, really. I know you feel a natural jealousy toward Cece. The truth is that loving her was easier?—"

Isla huffed out a breath and he held up his hands.

"Just let me finish. What I mean is that it was easy because I didn't know to be scared. I didn't know I could fail. Gods, I had no idea what I had to lose, Isla. I was so naive and I thought I knew everything. What could be worse than a twenty-five-year-old prince who thinks he knows everything?"

Isla snorted, shaking her head.

"Exactly! I was ridiculous. I just had the benefit of not knowing it yet. But I spent most of my life in an enemy kingdom, doing the one thing I thought I was good at, the one thing that would make my family proud. I sacrificed all the good years with them to be a spy. Davide sacrificed his mind to keep me safe. My mother sacrificed her life so she wouldn't be used against me. My best friend sacrificed his life saving Cece. And even now I've had to surrender my regard for my father. But when I met Cece—well, really when I watched her from afar for a year—I didn't have any of that experience. I only had the experience of hearing ‘yes.' I could throw myself into her full force because I didn't know what it was to lose, or to be used as a tool to torture the only person I had left."

Isla looked away.

"What I'm saying is that I had no idea how much it could hurt when I fell in love with her and it was easy to throw myself in with no regard for my safety."

"I don't want to hear any more about your love for her. You never godsdamned shut up about it," Isla snapped.

"I promise you do, darling. Please?" He gestured to the chair by the fire and Isla reluctantly slumped into it.

She looked adorable sulking. Normally she was so regal and alert, her spine straight, ready to spring into action, but now she was crumpled .

Xander knelt in front of her and her eyes went wide in surprise as he took her hands in his.

"What I'm trying to say—poorly—is that I know what I have to lose now, but I want to try anyway, because with you, even knowing how it could hurt, how you could flay me in a second both literally and figuratively, I simply cannot help myself."

Her face softened at last.

"I'm falling for you, and despite my terrible timing and the idiocy of my offer, I will take you in whatever way you'll let me. If you find my offer of consort insulting or not enough, I promise that I will understand and respect your wishes." The thought of it turned his stomach, indicating that he was in much deeper than he'd realized. "But if there is even a chance that you might want to stay here in Argaria and be with me in whatever position you choose, for however long you choose, I am putting myself entirely at your mercy."

Isla narrowed her eyes. "How do I know that you won't tire of me? That you won't simply be flirting with the next pretty girl you see with a bow in her hand?"

"Because I already swore off beautiful archers and I'll do it again," he said, trying for humor and failing.

"That's not good enough," she said.

Xander felt defeated. He had nothing else to offer. He was being honest about how he felt.

"What would feel like enough? I can assure you I'm quite single-minded when it comes to the things I want. If you give me another chance, one I know I don't deserve, I promise I will prove that you are a priority. Maybe it's unfair when I have an obligation to this kingdom first?—"

"That doesn't bother me," Isla interrupted. "I would be expected to do the same, and there's no duty I understand better. But I cannot contend with your past."

Xander took a breath, trying to slow his swirling thoughts. He loved and loathed the adrenaline rush of this dance they were doing the same way he loved a good fight. "I can no sooner erase my past, nor would I. It made me who I am, Isla. Just as yours made you. I understand envy. Trust me. I was married to a woman whose heart was connected to the man she loved more than me and I knew it pretty much the whole time. Envy was my godsdamned best friend. But I cannot undo what was. I cannot retrieve the part of me that she has or give up the piece of her that's mine. To do so would be a betrayal of myself, and I can't do that, even for you."

Isla sat back, her arms crossed.

"Those are things I cannot give you. But what I'd like to give you is everything else. My heart has been broken. I have been broken," Xander said, trying to hide the waver in his voice with a cough. "But I'm still standing, still trying to put myself back together. And no one, not six beautiful princesses or any of the lovely ladies in this court, have made me want to try to be whole again until you. What I am offering you is what's left of me, and while I know it's unfair considering how exceptional you are, I'm hanging onto my last hope that it will miraculously be good enough."

For a moment she seemed to consider, her eyes taking on a glassy sheen before she looked away, blowing out a slow breath.

"It's not enough. I deserve better," she said. She stood abruptly, dropping his hands. "I'm not a stand-in."

"You're not."

"And I'm not a consolation prize."

Xander frowned. "Of course you aren't."

"And I'm not a place for a man to hang his last hope of love."

"And why is that?" Xander said, unable to hide his frustration.

Isla glared at him as if he'd been insulting her instead of pouring his heart out for her to eviscerate. "Because I cannot be a safety net and I deserve someone who can give me everything."

Xander swallowed hard. He'd tried his best. It just wasn't good enough. "I understand."

"Fight for her." Jessamin's whisper came only loud enough for him to hear through the washroom door. "She wants you to fight for her."

Xander climbed to his feet, searching for what more he could offer. He could not give Isla certainty, at least not this quickly. What he really needed was time. If he could at least bait her into staying, he had a chance of winning her over. He switched tactics.

"You're afraid."

Isla's eyes lit with fury. "How dare you!"

"I thought you Novumi warriors laughed in the face of fear, but it turns out your fears are just as common as the rest of us."

"Take it back," she huffed, drawing her blade and leveling it at him.

"I only recognize it because I've seen it in the mirror every day for the past year and a half," Xander said. "You can hide from yourself, but you can't hide from me. If you're too scared to be with me, that's okay, but I'm not going to pretend along with you."

Isla gaped at him for a full minute before charging at him. He barely drew his short swords fast enough to block her attack. They parried back and forth a few times, but he could tell she wasn't actually trying to hurt him. If she was, he would have let her—not to kill, but at least a gentle maim to prove his affection.

She met his eye as she swung, as if daring him to continue his proclamation. He was nothing if not a man who rose to every occasion to run his stupid mouth.

"You're afraid if you let me closer, if you hang around to see if I could love you, I might see all of you and not feel the same way. You're afraid that I'll see something I don't like and run away," he said. "But I won't because I won't find anything as ugly in you as what I've already found in myself, and it's all those sharp edges in you that have drawn me in anyway."

She shook her head and stepped away, sheathing her sword. Her dark eyes met his and she opened her mouth, then closed it before turning and leaving the room in a huff.

Isla couldn't do it. She couldn't risk loving him. Xander understood, but it didn't make it hurt less. Perhaps he was in much deeper than he thought.

The washroom door creaked open and Cece stood in her robe, her damp hair soaking through the fabric over her shoulders, suggesting she and Jessamin, who stood behind her, had been hiding in there, waiting for him to finish his groveling.

He shrugged, swallowing hard as the two of them crossed the room and pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, Xan, that was really good. I honestly thought it would work," Cece said.

"Would have worked on me," Jessamin said with a soft smile.

Xander shoved down the swell of grief and disappointment in his chest. "Yes, well, practice makes perfect. It was an excellent grovel."

Cece gripped his hand. "She will come around."

He shook his head. "That seemed definitive to me. It's never going to happen."

Cece grinned. "Never say never. Never is a challenge."

"Did you just quote Cato to me?"

"What is it you say? If we can't laugh about it, it's just sad?" She kissed his cheek. "Give her some time. She'll come around."

Jessamin nodded. "I know my cousin. She is stubborn and uncomfortable with affection. I suspect she'll come around, especially if you continue to be your charming self."

"What happened to letting her choose for herself and respecting her wishes?" Xander challenged.

Jessamin grinned, waving a hand dismissively. "That was just when I didn't know she was so content to lie to herself. And before I knew you were actually in love with her."

Xander stared at his wife and Cece nodding beside her. Apparently, he only successfully hid his heart from himself.

"Now I'm ready to see you win her over, and obviously, I'd prefer that she stay here in Argaria," Jessamin said.

Xander racked his brain for what else he could do. His eyes came to rest on the desk where an old letter sat unfolded. He could return to his roots, trace his story back to the beginning and play to his strengths by giving himself the time to think and write a well-crafted love letter.

Xander grinned as he sat down to write his best one yet.

It was only a couple hours later that Xander was sitting peacefully by the fire in his room, going over their plan of attack for the wedding, when Isla burst into the room, eyes blazing with fury.

"What the fuck is this?"

She tossed his letter into his lap and he picked it up as if seeing it for the first time.

"It looks like a love letter."

Her cheeks were flushed. "You said you loved me for the first time in a godsdamned letter."

He was exhilarated by her anger. "Well, you weren't interested in me saying it to your face and I refuse to go into such a dangerous plan without having all of my feelings on the table. It's not as if you gave me options."

Isla paced the room, fuming. "How dare you!"

"Love you?" Xander asked, trying not to laugh.

"You don't even know me."

"And yet I love you already."

"That's not love. It's infatuation," Isla said.

"Is that what you're afraid of? And here I thought it was just a general feeling of unworthiness."

Isla glared at him.

"Isla, you may be able to command whole armies, but you cannot command my heart any more than I can," Xander said.

"You are a stubborn, spoiled king," she grumbled, shaking her head. Xander could tell that she was trying not to smile.

"Anything could happen tomorrow and I would regret it if I did not tell you exactly how I feel." He took a tentative step toward her and, when she didn't back away, closed the space between them in a few quick strides. "You don't have to say yes. Just say you'll consider staying to see what this could be. Come on, Isla. Give me the best ‘maybe' of my life."

She looked toward the fire, shaking her head .

He took her hands. "I know how you're feeling. You're thinking—what a foolish time to be weak. What a liability to have a heart."

A surprised laugh burst from her lips. "It's eerie how you do that."

"I only know because I feel the same," Xander said. "I've made the mistake of not being forthcoming in the past. I wish you'd see my past as an asset—as a series of mistakes I am trying hard to learn from. I'd spare both of us the chaos if I could, but even spoiled kings aren't free from love's influence. All I ask is that you stay after we finish this and give me a chance to prove this isn't infatuation. Give me a chance once the dust settles."

Isla met his gaze and he saw the same fear and longing he felt reflected in her eyes. "Maybe. That's the best I can do. I make no promises beyond that."

She turned away, retreating toward the door with his letter clutched to her chest.

"Isla? Is there anything you'd like to say to me?" he asked.

It was more a taunt than a real question, but when she froze in the doorway, Xander stopped breathing.

"Yes." She turned to look at him. "Your fly is unbuttoned."

She ducked out of the room, chased by the sound of his laughter.