Sophie found him sitting alone in the gardens, bathed in golden afternoon light, his sword lying forgotten in the grass beside him. It was rare to find Tedros without some sort of bravado, but now he just looked... tired. Maybe that’s why she finally dared to say it.
She remembered the moment she learned that Tedros and Agatha were together. It had felt like a dagger to the chest—sharp, unexpected, cruel. The world had continued turning, but for her, everything had stopped. The sight of Agatha smiling, her hand clasped in Tedros’s, had sent a rush of heat through her body, burning and bitter. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Agatha had been hers. They had been a pair, two halves of a whole, ever since the moment they met. And yet, Tedros had stolen her away, plucking her from Sophie’s grasp like it was effortless. She had wanted to scream, to shake Agatha and demand to know why. Instead, she had smiled, forced herself to act as if it didn’t matter, as if it hadn’t shattered something deep inside her.
“I need to talk to you.”
Tedros glanced up, startled, but nodded. “Go ahead.”
She hesitated, then sat down beside him, smoothing the folds of her dress. “You and Agatha. It’s over.”
It wasn’t a question, but Tedros still sighed like it weighed on him. “Yeah.”
Sophie inhaled sharply. “I think— No, I know why it hurt me so much. Why it made me so angry. I kept thinking it was because you took her away from me, but that wasn’t it.” She curled her fingers into her lap. “It was because I wanted to be you. Because I loved her. I love her.”
Tedros sat up straighter. “Sophie—”
“I thought I loved you.” She laughed bitterly. “Isn’t that funny? I spent so much time chasing after this idea of love, this idea of a prince, thinking that’s what I wanted. What I needed. But I didn’t want you. I wanted her.”
She looked away, suddenly feeling small. “And I feel so stupid. So stupid for ever thinking I liked boys. For thinking I wanted a prince when all I ever wanted was—”
“Agatha,” Tedros finished softly.
A memory flickered across his mind, unbidden. He remembered the way Sophie had looked at him when he and Agatha were together—sharp and venomous, laced with something deeper than hate. The way she had cut him down with cruel words, dripping sarcasm like poison. He had thought she wanted Agatha’s attention, wanted to be Agatha’s closest friend again, but now, as he sat beside her, he realized she had been fighting something much bigger than him. She had been fighting herself.
Sophie nodded, biting her lip. The admission left her raw, exposed. And worst of all, she didn’t even get the fairytale ending. “She doesn’t love me like that,” she muttered. “I know she doesn’t.”
Tedros exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say, Sophie. I mean, I could tell you you’re wrong, but I don’t know if that would help.”
Sophie scoffed. “That’s a first. You, not knowing what to say.”
Tedros gave a half-hearted chuckle before his expression turned pensive. “You know, I think I get it now.”
She arched a brow. “Get what?”
“Why we were always at each other’s throats. I kept thinking you were jealous of Agatha, jealous that she loved me. But you weren’t.” He looked at her then, his blue eyes understanding in a way they had never been before. “You were jealous of me.”
Sophie swallowed. It felt terrifying to be understood, even just a little. She had spent so long trying to hide this part of herself, to rationalize it away, that now, with it out in the open, she felt naked.
But then Tedros did something unexpected. He leaned back, staring up at the sky, and let out a long sigh. “I think I was jealous too.”
Sophie blinked. “Of me?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing his hands together. “I used to get so irritated whenever you were with Hort. It didn’t make sense at the time. But now…” He shook his head with a half-smile. “I don’t think it was you I was mad at.”
Sophie stared at him, realization dawning. “You like Hort.”
“I—” Tedros faltered, looking stunned by his own thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe?” He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “This is a lot.”
She huffed a laugh, feeling some of the weight in her chest lift. “Welcome to the club.”
They sat there for a moment, both of them unraveling, both of them understanding in a way they never had before. Sophie didn’t know if things would get better. If Agatha would ever love her the way she wanted or if Tedros would ever figure out what he truly felt for Hort. But for now, at least, they weren’t alone in it.