When Dain got up, he didn't speak. He offered me his hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I searched his face, wanting to see what he was taking away from the meadow. Would it be enjoyment? Friendship? Loss? But his expression was closed-off and almost defensive, as if he expected me to pull out a blade at any moment and slip it between his ribs. We stood there for a long time, looking at each other while the wind ruffled my hair and tugged at his long tails, gazing into each other's eyes in the summer sun.

Who are you? I wanted to ask again, as if I might get a different answer than I'd gotten the first time. I didn't understand him, and my dreadful curiosity wanted to. I felt like I kept collecting new threads to pull on, and each one of them revealed a different person. Could I be friends with the person behind all of those faces? Were we destined by some nameless fae god for an eternity together? How could I ever answer that question without knowing the answer to the first—who he really was?

When at last he turned away, I didn't look at him, unwilling to bear the sight of his glamored back, and only followed him down to the deer once he'd put on his jacket and removed the glamor. In silence, we collected our mounts. He didn't offer to help me mount up, and I didn't ask. I took the doe over to a rock and used it as a mounting block, and followed him into the forest again.

14. Happiness

Chapter 14

Happiness

My guards were waiting for me at the stables when we returned. The hostler took my doe without any comment on my disheveled state, and Dain swept off before I could so much as open my mouth to try to say something polite to him. I guessed that was fair. The hedgehog had lowered a few prickles and hadn't gotten a great reward for it.

Well, I considered, Not quite true. We'd had a conversation that had been mostly devoid of anger and aggression, and he'd come away with the offer of friendship from me. A couple of conversations, really, one even approaching flirty.

I thought I'd been right, and that Dain led with his worst traits so that he couldn't lose anything later. He could have easily led with his ability at glamor, his enjoyment of riding, or that brief glimpse of love I'd seen on his face as he petted his stag. But trying to get me to like him meant that when I inevitably heard, say, a graphic description of the destruction of Phazikai, Dain would have to see that affection crumble.

Rejection hurts so much worse when you're trying. How often can you put yourself out there, bare your naked soul and get told you're monstrous, before it's not worth it anymore?