In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (most motivational books txt) 📕

“You are so much stronger than anyone gives you credit for,” Garrett said, giving Tal one last hard squeeze. “We were wrong to think your soft heart was a weakness.”

“The world isn’t kind,” Tal said as Garrett held him at arm’s length, the flames of the torch flickering from the ground, casting them both in eerie shadows. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be.”

Garrett shook his head fondly, a small smile tipping up the side of his mouth. “You’re a wonder, little brother. And I don’t just mean the magic.” Picking up the torch, he quickly wiped his eyes. “Come along. It’s late. You’re tired and hungry, no doubt. And I’m sure there is someone waiting for you.”

Tal’s cheeks heated, and he was grateful for the low light.

Garrett walked with him the entire way back to his chambers, teasing him gently about the way Athlen had held his hand during the audience with their mother, Tal teasing back about Garrett’s potential upcoming marriage.

By the time Tal entered his room, he was exhausted. His upper arm ached from phantom pains, and his knee spasmed in warning of overuse. Tal was disappointed that Athlen was nowhere to be seen, sequestered in his own chambers, most likely. He had hoped Athlen would want to stay the night again, even if not in Tal’s bed but in the tub. And Tal desperately wanted to talk with him, tell him what his mother had offered, figure out their future, either together or apart. The fact that Athlen wasn’t waiting for him was a reminder of the distance between them, despite the moments they’d had in the council room, holding hands, bolstering each other in the face of Tal’s family.

Tal would have looked for him, but as it was, it took everything he had to halfheartedly eat the fruit left behind on his table, then toe off his boots. He didn’t have the strength to handle a potential rejection at the moment either, if Athlen chose to return to the sea and his cavern of trinkets.

After shucking off his clothes, Tal crawled into his bed. He fished the shark’s tooth out of his pocket and held it up between his fingers—the tip stained with blood—then folded it into his hand. He fell asleep dreaming of the glittering walls of Athlen’s cove and the swell and ebb of the tide.

16

You don’t have to marry her, do you?”

Tal blinked sluggishly as he closed his chamber door behind him. He yawned and didn’t bother trying to hide his open mouth behind his hand.

“What?”

Athlen twisted his fingers, pacing along the hallway outside Tal’s room. “The princess of the other kingdom. Do you have to marry her?” He shook his head. “Maybe it would be better that way. Easier. For you. To marry a princess. But if you don’t want to, I’ll help you run away. Your family can’t make you marry if you’re hiding. We’ll go by the sea this time, though. I don’t think I can handle any more horseback riding.”

Fogged with sleep, Tal couldn’t comprehend half of what Athlen said as he sputtered and paced. Corrie had come to visit Tal in the very early morning, waking him before the sun rose, to talk nonsense, and he had nodded off midconversation. He supposed it was her way of reconnecting with him, the same way Garrett had done the day before.

When he’d woken for the day, he’d had a mild panic when he couldn’t find his shark’s tooth in his bed or on the floor nearby. When he did find it, it was on his night table, wrapped in a length of cord and threaded on a long string of leather. The necklace was tangled with another, the gold chain that looped around his signet ring. It hadn’t been placed by accident—Corrie’s small way of showing her approval and understanding. Tal had clasped the leather necklace around his neck, and now the tooth sat snug against his breastbone. He’d pocketed the other.

“Tal?” Athlen said, poking him in the shoulder. “Did you hear me?”

Tal ran a hand through his hair, pushing wayward strands from his face. Hope swelled in his middle at Athlen’s concerns and his offer to run away together. He smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t have to marry the princess.”

“Oh, good,” Athlen said, visibly deflating in relief. “Unless you wanted to marry her?”

“No. I didn’t want to marry her.” Tal rubbed his knuckles in his eyes and squinted. “You’re wearing boots,” he said. “And trousers that fit and a waistcoat.” Tal furrowed his brow. “I can’t believe it.”

Athlen smoothed his hands down his front. “Corrie made me. She said it wasn’t proper for a royal guest to wear clothes with holes and no shoes.”

Tal cleared his throat. “It suits you.” Tal couldn’t take his eyes off him. Corrie had talked Athlen into wearing a crisp white shirt with a high, stiff collar and brocade down the sleeves. His vest was a deep blue, and his trousers were tan. His ankle-high boots were a soft brown and had three shining buckles. His copper hair had been cut and styled, the wild tresses tamed with wax but still uniquely Athlen.

Athlen tugged on the collar of his shirt. “I can’t breathe.” He picked up his foot and rubbed his toe along the length of his leg, the leather creaking. “And I can’t feel the floor.”

“You look like a prince.”

“I’m not a prince.”

“But you’re the favorite of a certain prince,” Tal said with a fond smile.

Athlen’s expression turned vaguely mortified. He jerked on the hem of the waistcoat. “Is that what this means? Is that what everyone will think?”

“No,” Tal said, shaking his head. “That was a joke. But would it be so bad if everyone knew that, well, that you’re my—”

“I’m your what?” A blush painted the high line of Athlen’s cheeks.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this in the hallway.” Tal frowned and