"Look, Leonie. That night, when they took you to Dorian's room, nothing happened. Neither of us laid a finger on you. Not him, not me."
Leonie stared as though they had both sprouted a second head. And truly, she did not understand any of this. Was this some trick to get her to let her guard down? She did not remember much, but she did remember Dorian tearing her dress from her body.
"He's telling the truth," Dorian added with a sigh. "I swear it."
"No," Leonie cried, taking a few stumbling steps backward. "You're lying! You're just trying to worm your way into my trust so that you can… so you can…"
"So we can what, Leonie?" Dorian asked in a patient tone.
"Look, if we wanted to couple with you, we wouldn't need tricks," Marcus said with a shrug. "Let's be honest, we're a lot stronger than you." Facts were stubborn things.
"You're lying…" A tear rolled down her cheek as she shook her head. "I remember…"
"What do you remember?" Dorian raised a curious brow. He knew the girl had been unconscious almost the entire time.
"I remember… I remember you tearing off my dress!" she burst out, pointing at him.
Marcus snorted. "I wouldn't exactly call that nothing you had on a dress."
Dorian lifted a hand in a calming gesture toward Marcus, then stood and took a slow step toward Leonie, as though he were trying not to spook a skittish fawn.
"That part is true," he said. If they had started this, they had to see it through. "But only because you couldn't travel in that scrap. You needed warm clothes, and you were in a rather… altered state. You couldn't have changed by yourself. Marcus tried to take it off you properly, but he's never been very good with women's clothing, so I chose the faster solution."
Leonie stared at him, torn between belief and disbelief, hands twisting restlessly in front of her.
"I know we frightened you, but we had to decide and act very quickly. We don't make a habit of touching unconscious women."
"Pff… Dorian doesn't exactly go looking for female company anyway. Don't take it personally, he just enjoys self-torture," Marcus put in with a grin.
"Only so you might have a chance once in a while," Dorian shot back, rolling his eyes, though his gaze never left Leonie's tear-streaked face and the confusion swirling in her eyes. Did she believe them? Perhaps even she did not know yet.
It suddenly became very important to him that she understood what he was saying, so he tried approaching the matter from a more practical angle.
"Did you feel any… pain the next day?"
Leonie clearly had no idea what he meant. Every part of her body had been screaming all day; how was she supposed to distinguish one kind of pain from another?
Marcus's heart clenched as he realized Leonie had no idea what they were talking about.
"Little one, do you even know what should have happened?" he asked gently.
Leonie flushed so hard she felt even her toes must be red.
"I… I…"
Dorian relented and sighed.
"Leonie, I know it's very hard to believe us right now. But with time…"
She looked at them for almost a full minute, then finally nodded.
"I… I… I'm going to bathe now," she whispered, and without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and fled toward the lake. Her head and heart were a whirlwind, and by the time she reached the shore she dropped onto the ground and buried her face in her hands, weeping.
Back at the camp, Marcus scratched his head, baffled.
"That went great… Think we should go after her? She might try to drown herself in the lake." He raised a brow at his friend.
After a brief hesitation, Dorian set off toward the water. He found the broken girl quickly enough and sat down beside her without a word. Moments later Marcus arrived too and dropped onto the other side. They sat like that, the three of them in silence, until Leonie's sobs finally subsided and she became aware she was wedged between two bodies twice her size.
She shifted awkwardly, but there was such relaxed calm radiating from both men that, within minutes, she managed to regain her composure and wiped her wet face.
Could it really be true? These two men, whose arrival had caused such a stir, for whose sake the baron had behaved as though he were more important than the king himself— these two men had been willing to throw everything away just to take her away from that place? The thought alone almost made her cry again.
Why had they done it? They did not know her. At their first meeting she had even punched Dorian.
"I'm sorry I hit you," she said, lifting her translucent green eyes to him.
Dorian did not reply at once, just stared out at the lake, so Marcus answered for him, of course.
"Nice right hook," he grinned. "I've got to say, it was quite a sight: a woman landing a punch on Dorian. Doesn't happen every day."
He laughed and stretched out on the ground, lacing his hands behind his head, while Leonie gave a shy smile and darted glances at Dorian's thoughtful profile.
Suddenly, Dorian turned and caught her gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment before he finally spoke.
"Unlike Marcus, who's used to getting slapped by offended ladies," he said dryly, stretching out on the ground as well. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Hey! That was a misunderstanding, and it only happened once," Marcus protested.
Leonie listened to their playful bickering, utterly unable to wrap her mind around what was happening. The fae were acting as if nothing had happened, as if they were simply out for a pleasant picnic— yet the baron's men were probably hunting them even now.
"Now what?" she cut into their banter. "What's your plan? Aren't you… afraid? Aren't you worried they're right on our trail?"
Both men turned to her, but it was Dorian who answered.
"A handful of humans doesn't scare us that easily," he said with a faint smile at the corner of his lips.
What he did not add was that he was slightly concerned how much their presence might upset Leonie, should they show up. But why did he care so much about her feelings, anyway?
Still, it was obvious she was calmer now and less tense in their presence. That pleased him. He wanted Leonie to trust him. He wanted it very much.
To his surprise, she suddenly lay down between them. Dorian's breath hitched for a moment as she settled, seemingly unbothered by the fact that she was touching them— or at least not showing it. His chest tightened at the trust that small gesture carried, but at the same time he found her naïveté worrying.
But Leonie needed it to be true. She needed not to be afraid anymore, needed to finally escape her prison. If she did not believe in that possibility, what future would she have left?
"Are all fae as full of themselves as you two?" she asked, the corner of her mouth curving up just a little.
Marcus burst out in loud laughter.
"Wait till you meet the others. You'll be begging to come back to us. We are the shy, modest and restrained ones, aren't we, my friend?" He glanced at Dorian, who was watching the girl beside him as though he had never seen a fae before.
His king's unhidden interest in Leonie was obvious— whether she herself realized it or not.
"Marcus, you're like a warhorse in a charge. When someone goads you on, you trample everything in your path. I'm sorry if I'm the first one to point it out," Dorian said, with not a hint of actual regret on his face.
"And you're starting to remind me of the man you were three hundred years ago. Might want to think about that before we meet the others," Marcus shot back.
A shadow crossed Dorian's features. Much as he would have liked to beat the living daylights out of Marcus, his friend might have a point.
"Why? What were you like three hundred years ago?" Leonie piped up. She had no idea what they were talking about over her head, and it was starting to irritate her. She also sensed that while Marcus's posture was relaxed and easy, Dorian's whole body had gone taut with his friend's remark.
"Dangerously handsome. Just like now," Dorian replied with a small grin in the direction of her hair.
It was not quite the answer she had wanted, but Dorian cut off her muttering.
"And now sleep," he ordered, bringing the evening's conversation to a close.