It was well past the twins' normal bedtime before the party dispersed. Weskham left with Avun to find new quarters, Ignis bowed gracefully out, hiding a yawn behind his hand, and Ravus bid a fond farewell to both Noctis and Reina before withdrawing. The twins' bedtime routine was rather in shambles, but Regis saw them tucked into bed nevertheless, foregoing Reina's lesson in Dreaming on account of how late it had grown. He promised to make it up to her on the following night. And once both of them were closed away in their room, whispering excitedly to one another rather than going to sleep, Regis was left in the empty lounge with the remnants of the party being cleared away by servants.
Crea's door was ajar and light came from beyond. Though Regis had watched Weskham leave with Avun, for a moment he imagined he could hear Weskham's voice from within. He shook away jealous imaginings and steeled himself to pass by her door without knocking. Just as he had gathered his resolve and passed by the stream of light with his head bowed, the door opened. It mattered little what he tried to do, anymore, it would see. Fate always played against him.
"Regis." She smiled at him, silhouetted in the warm light from her sitting room as she stood in the doorway.
Her hair was down, hanging in damp locks around her shoulders, and she had already changed from her daywear into more comfortable sleepwear. The loose shirt she wore was cut wide at the neck and showed more of her clavicle than Regis cared to think about. But he couldn't stop himself from doing so.
"That was quite a surprise, tonight. I take it you didn't know Weskham was coming back?" Crea asked.
Regis swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. If he had taken the long way around to his rooms, he would not have been standing in the middle of a conversation he wished desperately not to have.
"No," Regis managed. "We spoke on the phone last week, but the conclusion of our discussion was delayed. I did not suspect that Clarus might have spoken to him after that—or that they had both apparently drawn their own conclusions—until tonight."
"I thought as much. You looked like a fish when he walked in."
Regis pressed his lips tight. "Dignified."
She laughed at him. Would she have done the same to Weskham? No. He would have smoothly turned her amusement elsewhere without letting it settle on him.
"You look so indignant! I'm only teasing. I'm glad that Weskham is back and I hope he stays. I know he was always a great friend and comfort to you."
"Is that truly why you are pleased with his return?" The words slipped out before he could stop them, along with his bitterness. As they sank in and a stunned look crossed her face, he cursed himself for his lack of self control.
"Regis…" The crease on her brow was sympathy or hurt or both. He couldn't tell anymore.
They were standing alone in the hall. All the servants were in the lounge, cleaning. Avun had gone to accompany Weskham to his new rooms. The Crownsguards were farther down and around a corner in either direction. He could have kissed her and no one would have been the wiser.
Perhaps he would have, if he had still thought she would enjoy it.
"He was right, of course," Regis said. "You are beautiful. More beautiful every day, and I—"
"Don't. Please don't do this, Regis."
"Because you would prefer to hear the words from Weskham?" He did not even fight to keep the bitterness from his voice this time.
"Is that what you think? Is that really what you think? That I'm some schoolgirl to have her head turned by every man who calls me beautiful?"
"Then why will you take those words from him and not from me?"
"Because from him they mean nothing! And from you they tear my heart out with impossibilities!" Tears fell from her chin and splattered on the marble floor. She dropped her voice and her tone became tight and strangled. "Because I can't hear them from you without thinking of everything I can't have."
She could have had it. Everything he had to give and more would have been hers, if only she would reach out and take them.
He bit his tongue before he could throw more hurtful words. He had already caused her tears. Was that not enough? No sane person would willingly take up the mantle of queen for the rest of their life. Yes, all she had to do was say yes. Yes to throwing away her life and everything outside of the Citadel, with no escape. Even if he died before her—which he would—she would have been trapped under a crown she had never wanted.
He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her. "Forgive me."
She took the handkerchief and rubbed at her cheeks. Anything else he could have said would only make matters worse. If he had been any other man he could have professed his undying love for her and swept her off her feet, hiding his own childish jealousy behind his passion for her. But he could not touch her. And even words would only hurt her more.
"Goodnight, Crea." He turned away.
"Regis, wait."
He stopped but did not turn back around. If he looked at her he would lose all resolve.
"I know you feel constrained by your station. You wish we could have what Weskham and I share. But don't. It isn't what you want. He's like a brother to me. I've never had a brother before."
Just as he was for Regis. Some days it seemed as if it would be preferable to have that closeness with her, even if it wasn't of the variety he craved. Other days his sanity was stronger and he understood it would have been nothing short of torture.
Against his better judgement, he looked back at her. "Then I hope he can share with you the same wisdom and comfort he gives me."
She glanced down the hall in either direction, then stepped out of her doorway to pad barefoot after him. She returned his handkerchief and laid her hand on his arm. Even through his suit, her touch burned. From so close, he could smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with her soap. In a burst of painful memories, he recalled the taste of it on her skin.
"I tried loving someone else, Regis," she whispered. "We both know how that ended. For better or for worse, I can only love you. So just remember this, if you find yourself wondering whenever I speak to Weskham."
She was closer. Closer than was comfortable and yet he was entranced, unable to break away, however unwise he knew it to be. She had to stand on her toes and even then she leaned up and stretched to brush her lips over his cheek. Regis shut his eyes against the memories her touch stirred, but it did nothing to banish them from his mind. The warmth of her skin pushed through his suit until he was keenly aware of her nearness, of the press of her palm against his chest and the soft whisper of her lips on his cheek.
"I love you." She spoke for his ears only, the softest breath that could not have travelled past their dark corner of the hall.
Footsteps sounded from down the hall.
Crea leapt away from him. And all at once the warmth and comfort of her nearness was gone, swallowed up by the night. In the dim light cast by her open door he could just see the heavy flush on her cheeks.
"Anyway, there's nothing to worry about," she said in a would-be casual, though hushed, tone. "I think Reina was more surprised than anything, and so long as no one makes a big deal about it, she'll grow to understand it's just another part of growing up. Not something to hide or be ashamed of. Though it's possible she'll want her own room, eventually."
"Her… her own room?" Regis struggled to fall into the charade she had so easily slammed into place between them.
Avunculus came around the corner.
"Well yes, of course. You didn't expect her to share with Noctis forever, did you?"
"I hadn't considered." It was true enough, even as his heart thundered in his chest and his brain sliced two halves of his life apart and set one securely aside.
"Though I'm sure Noctis will soon be of an age where he would appreciate the same," she added. "I can only guess what teenage boys do in their rooms and I would honestly rather not."
In spite of himself, Regis found himself smiling. "It is, as you have noted, simply a part of growing up."
"Well, that's one part you can deal with, then. Oh, hello, Avun."
"Good evening, Miss Vinculum. Good evening, Your Majesty." Avunculus bowed to both of them. He spent so much time around Regis that it seemed to have become a default part of his greetings. "Master Weskham has been settled in his chambers."
"Good." Unconsciously, Regis lifted a hand and touched his burning cheek, where he could still feel the soft brush of Crea's lips. He caught her eye and dropped his hand. "Well, thank you for handling this all so neatly, Crea. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Regis." She smiled, a fierce secret hidden behind her innocent gaze.
He turned away before he could say anything else and ruin her quick thinking. But the feel of her lips lingered on his mind well into the night while he struggled to sleep.