Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 4 chapter 18

 

Volume IV  The White King

ARC III  DREAMS OF ANOTHER LIFE

Chapter 18  Jealousy

 Jealousy is often winter. It comes quietly. A single snowflake settling upon the heart. Then another. And another. Until one day the world is buried beneath something cold enough to make every warmth feel distant. Jealousy is a mirror cracked by fear. It does not show what is there. It shows what might be lost. A smile becomes a secret. A memory becomes a rival. A glance becomes a wound. The jealous heart is a traveler standing before a locked gate, convinced everyone else possesses the key. It measures itself against ghosts. Against histories. Against impossible standards. And every comparison steals another piece of peace. The cruelest thing about jealousy is that it feeds on love. Like ivy wrapping around a tree, it grows from something living and beautiful. Yet if left alone, it tightens. Slowly. Patiently. Until it begins to choke the very thing that gave it life. For Toivo, jealousy was not anger. It was a shadow cast by the past. A cold hand resting upon his shoulder whenever he looked at Moon and remembered that someone else had been there first. Someone who shared memories he never could. Someone who belonged to chapters of Moon's life that Toivo would never read. And in the frozen kingdom of Everfrost, surrounded by monuments to a history older than nations, that shadow felt impossible to escape. Because some wounds are not caused by enemies. Some are caused by the simple fear that the person you love might carry a part of their heart somewhere you cannot follow. The snow fell endlessly beyond the crystal windows. Soft. Silent. Merciless. Toivo hated Everfrost. Not the cold. Not the ice. Not the Frost Reapers. Not even the White King. No. What Toivo hated was the past. The realization came suddenly. Like a knife sliding between his ribs. He stood alone upon one of the citadel's countless balconies. Far below stretched frozen forests and endless white mountains. The northern lights shimmered above the world in curtains of emerald and silver. Beautiful, Ancient. and Timeless. Toivo could not appreciate any of it. Because all he could think about was Moon. And someone else. Nico. The White King. His fingers tightened against the frozen stone railing. He hated himself for thinking about it. Yet he could not stop. Everywhere he looked there were reminders. Paintings. Statues. Stories. Crystals containing memories.

Moon.

Moon.

Moon.

Always Moon.

The White King's entire kingdom felt built around a single person. And somehow that person wasn't him. Toivo laughed bitterly. A humorless sound. Of course it wasn't him. He was being ridiculous. Moon had known Nico for centuries. Maybe longer. Long before Toivo was born. Long before he survived the deserts of Baal. Long before he ever stood beside Silver Lake and saw a celestial god emerge from the water like a dream. Long before Moon changed his life forever. Toivo looked down. The reflection staring back from the frozen railing disturbed him. Because lately he could see it too. The resemblance. The White King. The Blood Wraith. Himself.

Tall.

Blond.

Blue-eyed.

Different. Yet similar enough. The first time Gret had pointed it out, everyone laughed. Even Kev. Now it wasn't funny anymore. Now it haunted him. Was that why Moon helped him? The thought made his stomach twist. Was that why Moon saved him? Protected him? Stayed beside him? Because he reminded Moon of someone else? Someone better? Someone Moon once loved? Toivo immediately hated himself for thinking it. But the thought remained. Persistent. Cruel.

Impossible to silence.

"You're sulking."

Toivo turned.

Kev sat upon the balcony railing in cat form. Tail flicking lazily. Eyes changing color, Golden eyes half-open.

"I am not."

"You are."

"I'm thinking."

"That's usually the problem."

Toivo scowled.

Kev yawned.

Then jumped down beside him. For a moment neither spoke. Snow drifted between them.

Finally Kev sighed.

"You look like a man preparing to wrestle a mountain."

"Maybe I am."

"No."

Kev glanced toward the distant towers of the citadel.

"You look jealous."

The word struck harder than any sword.

Toivo looked away.

Kev immediately knew.

"Oh."

The cat's ears twitched.

"Oh, that's unfortunate."

Toivo wanted to punch him. Instead he remained silent.

Kev sat beside him. Uncharacteristically serious.

"You know," he said eventually, "I once saw Gret challenge a dragon because it looked at his horse."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It reminds me of you."

Toivo groaned.

Kev ignored him.

"Jealousy makes people stupid."

Toivo stared toward the snow. Because unfortunately Kev was right. He knew he was being irrational. He knew Moon had never given him reason to doubt. Yet every time he saw Moon speaking with the White King something ugly stirred inside him. Something painful. The White King understood things Toivo never could. Memories. Dreams. Names. A past stretching back centuries. Moon would look at him differently. Softer. Sadder. As though part of him still lived in those memories. And Toivo hated it. Not because Moon remembered. Because Toivo couldn't compete. How could he? He was nineteen. A mortal from a wasteland. Moon was older than civilizations. The White King was older than nations. Their story began before history itself. Toivo's story had begun beside a dying well in a desert. The comparison felt unfair. And yet his heart made it anyway.

 That evening a banquet filled Everfrost's great hall. Crystal chandeliers illuminated endless tables. Frozen musicians played silver instruments. Nobles of frost and vampire lords gathered beneath vaulted ceilings. Moon sat beside the White King. Talking quietly. Not smiling. Not laughing. Simply talking. Yet somehow that hurt more. Because it felt intimate. Real. Toivo sat at the opposite end of the hall. Ignoring food. Ignoring conversation. Ignoring everyone. Until Gret sat beside him. The giant warrior immediately grabbed three roasted birds. Then another. Then another.

Toivo stared.

"You realize those are decorative."

Gret shrugged.

"Not anymore."

For several moments he ate peacefully.

Then finally spoke.

"You look miserable."

Toivo groaned.

"Is it that obvious?"

"To everyone except Moon."

That somehow made things worse.

Gret chewed thoughtfully.

Then pointed across the hall.

"Look."

Reluctantly Toivo did.

Moon sat beside the White King. The two looked almost motionless. Like figures carved from marble. Then Moon glanced toward the hall. Toward the crowd. Toward Toivo. Their eyes met. Jet black. Silver for a moment. Then black again. Moon smiled. Small. Gentle. Only for an instant. Yet something inside Toivo immediately calmed. Just a little. Because Moon hadn't smiled at the White King. He had smiled at him. The realization embarrassed him. How pathetic. One smile. And suddenly the world seemed less terrible.

Gret laughed.

"There he is."

Toivo frowned.

"Who?"

"The idiot I know."

Toivo threw a piece of bread at him.

Gret laughed harder.

Yet later that night alone in his room the jealousy returned. Because smiles weren't enough. Not anymore. Moon treated him kindly. Protected him. Believed in him. But Toivo wanted something else. Something terrifying. Something impossible. He wanted Moon to see him. Not as a child. Not as someone to protect. Not as a student. Not as a responsibility. As a man. The realization froze him. Because for the first time he admitted the truth fully. Not even to Gret. Not even to Kev. Not even to himself. Until now. He loved Moon. And for the first time that love hurt. Far more than any wound. Because somewhere within the frozen halls of Everfrost walked a king who possessed centuries of memories Toivo could never share. A king who looked enough like him to make every insecurity worse. A king who had once held Moon's heart. Or perhaps still did.

Outside, snow continued falling across Everfrost. Silent. Endless. And for the first time since meeting Moon beside Silver Lake Toivo hated the past. Because no matter how strong he became he could never change it.