Loving the Forbidden Prince

206  The Sense of Safety

AYLETH

Ayleths' head spun with images—of herself, fighting to put herself forward. And of Etan, sitting at the back of the feast hall. Putting himself in positions lower than he should have taken just to be close to her, or to keep her safe.

"Etan…" she said minutes later. "I do realize that neither of us is perfect," she said, barely more than a whisper. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Falek was far enough back not to hear. "I know that despite both our flaws, you have always worked for my good. Always wanted to protect me. And you have… humbled yourself to achieve that. I know that. I want you to know that I see it."

Etan smiled. "Thank you. I do love you, Ayleth."

"Yes, but you do more than love me," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm not good at humbling myself, Etan. But you are and I don't… I don't understand how you do it."

"I fight my pride every day, Ayleth. As I'm sure you do," he said dryly.

Ayleth wasn't so sure. While she knew herself to be compassionate towards those less fortunate, she also knew she was treated differently than most and that she… expected that to a certain degree.

"I am willing to be humbled in circumstance," she said carefully, "To work hard, to sweat. But I do those things knowing what they will gain me," she admitted. "I see you in a place of having earnt more than you receive—even from your own father. And yet, you do not fight for your right. I… don't do that, Etan. How do you do it?"

He shrugged. "The Father of Lights presses me to it. He's shown me that my pride only ever makes me dissatisfied and angry. It only ever seems to lead me to push others down. And my own father has shown me that that is not the way to rule—that's why he's so angry about me taking you in this way. He sees my actions as being selfish, without thought to the consequences for others.

"Father showed me when I was young that pride is blinding. It is the thing that stops me from seeing my own flaws—which means I cannot address them. If I'm unwilling to be told where I fail, I cannot expect to succeed."

Ayleth nodded. "I, too, learned that. But from Falek. In training."

Etan smiled that lopsided smile she loved so much. "Then you do know it. You aren't a prideful person, Ayleth. I don't see you pushing others beneath you all the time."

"I think you have seen that I can… insist on my way," she said, feeling her cheeks pink.

Etan chuckled. "I see that, of course. But I understand it. I want that too. No, that's not prideful as much as… self-reliance."

Ayleth cut him a look—half-anger, half-amusement. "Well, you can certainly claim that vice as well."

But instead of teasing back as she'd expected, Etan's face went sad. "I know," he said softly, fiddling with the reins. "That's why I need the Father of Lights."

Ayleth sighed. "Falek worships your god also. Does Borsche as well?"

"Yes."

"You are all good men. But I find it strange that I only seem to see men worshiping this God. Perhaps he's better to men than to women?"

"No," Etan chuckled. "If anything He's harder on us. I think it's simply that few in Zenithra know the Father. Don't worry, when we get to Summitras I'll introduce you to some wonderful women who know Him."

"Women?" She was suddenly flustered, irritated by the implication that he had many "wonderful" women to introduce her to.

But Etan laughed. "Fear not, my love. They're all old enough to be my mother, though they do have daughters who also follow, I suppose." He reached for her hand, twining their fingers. "But you have nothing to worry about. My heart is entirely yours."

"Very well," she sniffed, though the uneasiness in her chest hadn't shifted. "I suppose with time I would like to see about this Summitran God."

"He doesn't belong to Summitras, Ayleth. And he doesn't belong to men. He simply is. He Created everything you see and touch and smell—including you and me. And you would do well to measure him on his own merits, rather than on the people who follow him. None of us measure up to his love

—that's why we need him. He teaches us how to love others in a way that is… life-changing. Trust me. I ignored him for much of my life. He changed me dramatically. For the good."

"I know what you mean," Ayleth said, finally smiling. "The Goddess is wonderful. Powerful and strong

—just as she wants me to be."

Her mother's words in the dream about the Goddess echoed in her head.

"She wants your strength, your power. She wants you at the pinnacle for which she made you. She will not hold you back with this… savage."

Ayleth swallowed as Etan frowned. "Your Goddess flatters you," he said sullenly.

Ayleth shrugged. "Is that a bad thing?"

Etan turned to lock eyes with her, his intense and screaming caution, but his words were careful. "Ayleth, do you remember what you told me about the people who flatter in the Court? What was it you told me? You said… the silver-tongued were usually the first to plunge a knife in your back?"

Or your chest.

The words came unbidden and Ayleth pushed them away. "I was talking about humans, not gods," she insisted.

Etan stayed quiet—and that made Ayleth even more uncomfortable.

"You just want me to question everything," she muttered.

"Only the things that would hurt you. You won't defend against something you don't believe would hurt you, Ayleth. That is true of all of us, and it frightens me. I fear that one day you will walk into the mouth of the beast, unaware that it wants to devour you."

"I am more than capable of measuring a threat, Etan!"

"Are you though?" To her surprise, rather than getting angry and biting back, Etan stopped his horse and reached for hers, pulling her to a halt as well. And his face was frightened.