Deepwood Weald I Don't Belong Here

Her words were definitely not what he was expecting. He looked at her, hardly daring to believe it as she spoke of an advisor. He missed the power he'd had, but that didn't meant he wanted that responsibility. Back when it had been Vex leading, he had had a good, easy life. Here, he didn't, and he doubted it would ever be easy again. Could he handle that? Did he even want it? He wasn't certain.

And then, to take her name. To change his identity. He had been debating it, especially after his encounter with that woman. His birth name carried too much with it. Too much risk. But, his mouth had gone dry, because he did feel something for her. But he could not speak yet.

Stémma — the word, the title, it rang in his ears. And a heartbeat later, a proposal. Vorilye was speechless, conflicted. His mind buzzed with the possibilities, and he swallowed, hard. When he found his voice, he rasped quietly, "Themis, I — I don't know..." He frowned deeply, feeling his scars stretch taught.

Vorilye forced himself to meet her gaze. "I am six years old, and I don't expect to live that much longer." How long until Vex found him again? "I... do have feelings for you. That, and the whelps... this is why I stay." He took a steadying breath. "I... expect nothing from you, but... that doesn't mean I don't desire more." He had to make it plain to her. Vorilye blinked, then continued, "If you still wish to have me as your crown, then... so be it." Even if nothing more came from their relationship, a marriage would ensure no one else could have her, and Vorilye would be lying if he did not feel protective, and, perhaps, mildly possessive of her. She was the mother of his children, after all. If the admission of his feelings changed things, well... he didn't want to think about that at the moment.