A queen stares back at me in the mirror.
Her gaze is sharp, bright like the Shallows she survived and lined with kohl as dark as the cave she crawled out of. A slight shimmer coats her eyelids, right above the darkened lashes that fan atop powdered cheeks. Her lips are stained a deep red, masking the flush of a stolen kiss. Gone are the tear streaks, buried instead by makeup and facades.
She looks lethal. Formidable.
And, oddly, she doesn’t look like a stranger.
Ellie fusses with my hair, tying two braided strands at the back of my head. It’s elegant, yet simple, allowing for most of the silver waves to tickle my shoulders. Maids I’ve never met rush around the room, prepping my dress and every detail. I sit stiffly before the vanity mirror, forcing my thoughts from my imminent future.
Ellie takes a step back to examine her handiwork. “I think I’m all done.” Her dark eyes shine with pride. “You look so beautiful.”
I force a smile. “Thanks to you.”
She presses her lips together in a soft smile before shooing me behind the dressing screen. “Time to get you in your dress.”
Stripping among several strangers is the least of my concerns at the moment, so I don’t hesitate like a different version of myself would have. The cluster of maids crowd around me, helping each leg into the skirt and every inch of fabric to lie precisely as it should.
Stepping out before the mirror, I assess this altered dress. Its sleeveless bodice hugs me closely, draped in a flowery lace. Both delicate and bold, it sprawls over my skin while long lacy ties fall down the low back. Only a few buttons remain at the base of my spine, not so unlike the laces of my corset last night.
Laces that he loosened, replaced with lingering fingers. His skin was on mine, hot and cold and dripping with rain. Dress forgotten, fears abandoned, sins laid bare—
I shake my head, trying to shove thoughts of him away. Ellie’s concerned gaze stares back at me in the mirror. “Are you unhappy with the dress?”
“No,” I say quickly. Then again, to ease her mind. “No. It’s beautiful. I love it.”
One moment, she’s sighing in relief, and within the next, she’s dismissing each maid. They file out the door, allowing me to take my first deep breath all morning. I turn toward Ellie, pulling her hand into mine. “Thank you for everything. You’ve made me look like a queen.”
“I did nothing of the sort.” She tilts her head at me. “You have always been more powerful than you believe.”
I swallow. Nod slowly. “Calum will be here soon. He’ll walk me to the throne room when it is time.” I toss my head toward the door. “Now, go enjoy the wedding celebrations.”
Her brows furrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I sigh wearily. “I think I’d like a moment to myself.”
She offers me a dip of her head. “My Queen.”
As soon as she slips out the door, I eagerly shut it behind her. My forehead falls against the cool wood, eyelids fluttering shut. I stand there for a long while and try to enjoy every last moment before meeting my fate.
It’s quiet now. This room. My thoughts. Even the inside of my mind sounds like acceptance.
I am getting married today.
No denial. No frantic urge to flee.
Blowing out a deep breath, I push away from the door at the same moment a knock sounds from the other side. My fingers are wrapped around the handle within the next second, turning it until—
A hand shoots out, halting the door before it can swing open. “Wait, it’s me.”
The king’s voice is slightly muffled, separated by the slab of wood. I lean forward, voicing my confusion to the thin crack between us. “Kitt? What are you doing here?”
“Look,” he mutters quickly, “I know we are not supposed to see each other. But… I wanted to bring you something.”
There is a soft thud when he places said something onto the floor. “My mother loved her jewelry, or so I’ve been told. And it’s all been collecting dust in this box for years.”
He pauses long enough to have me pressing an ear to the door, waiting for whatever words he’s struggling to say. “So, I was hoping you would wear something of hers.” Rushing on, he adds, “I obviously don’t know what your dress looks like, so I just brought the whole jewelry box for you to look through. I’m not even sure what is in here, really.”
I smile sadly. Nod even when he cannot see it. “I would be honored, Kitt.”
The relief in his voice is endearing. “Thank you. I just want a piece of her with me today, you know?”
My gaze falls to the steel ring on my thumb. “Oh, I know.”
A comfortable silence lingers between us. “I’ll leave this out here, then,” Kitt finally says. “Just give me about ten seconds to sprint out of sight.”
I laugh. “Brilliant plan.”
He stands to his feet, the sound of rustling clothes reaching my ears. “I’ll see you soon, Paedyn.”
And then the king is gone.
I stare at the door, my gaze tracing the grooved wood impatiently.
Two, three, four…
My fingers fiddle with the lacy flowers cascading down my body.
Seven, eight, nine…
I swing the door open.
Kitt is gone, leaving the hall empty, with the exception of several stationed Imperials. At my slippered feet sits a wooden box, embellished with intricate carvings. Its lid is covered in deep swirls that vaguely resemble Ilya’s crest, while small drawers line the long length.
Picking it up swiftly, I slip back into my room. Decades of dust dulls the beautiful box, seemingly frozen in time with the exception of several fingerprints. I set it carefully on the bed and am about to follow when I notice that forgotten piece of parchment on my bedside table.
The note has sat there since Kai’s unexpected visit and was quickly forgotten at the sight of my dagger in his hands. Now, I abandon every thought for what is etched into that paper. My heart races as I reach for it, unfurling each edge beneath my fingertips.
His handwriting is neat with consideration. These are words he has ached to say. And time slows painfully as I wallow within them.
I know how you refuse to thank the Plague. It is understandable, admirable, even, how valiantly you despise the thing that made your survival so difficult. But I do thank the Plague. I whisper my gratitude for it when you are sound asleep in my arms, when your fingers flick the tip of my nose. In the quiet moments, I thank the Plague for you. If it weren’t for the dividing of Ordinaries and Elites so many years ago, I would have never found my way to you. My coins are always at risk in your presence, but no saving of my life would have been necessary that day. No Silencers. No Purging Trials. No stolen moments under the willow. When I thank the Plague, it is not for the power it has gifted me, but for the privilege of you. Nothing makes me stronger than the weakness that is you, Paedyn Gray. And if, in the next lifetime, you choose to steal from me again, I would happily give you my soul if it meant a place beside yours. But until then, I will watch you become another’s reason to thank the Plague. You, Pae, are my inevitable.
(I love you.)
I’m paralyzed by every bittersweet sentence. Grief and acceptance mingle between each syllable to leave me staring numbly at the blur of ink. The words flow from a place he rarely lets another into—his heart.
He is a poet. A fool. A man writing his final goodbye.
I shake my head at the note, unable to let him go so easily—
A knock at the door shatters my silent mourning for the boy I cannot have.
“Come in.” The books atop my bedside table tremble as I shove the note into the drawer beneath with the others. Calum slips into the room, blond hair combed back and suit pressed neatly. I manage a weak smile. “Is it time?”
“It is.” He approaches me slowly. “Just get through this first ceremony.”
I can’t seem to decide if I want to laugh or cry. “Yes, and then I’ll have to endure the second one on Loot.”
Calum’s smile is solemn, and it’s a familiar sight on his face. “One thing at a time, Paedyn.”
“Right.” I nod, gather my courage, and stride toward the door. With one last sweeping gaze over my chamber, I say goodbye to the girl who inhabited it. Because today, she becomes a queen. A wife.
My eyes land on that bedside table where my heart remains, shoved aside for the future of this kingdom. Then they stutter over that jewelry box atop my bed. I waver in the doorway, reminded how I hadn’t picked out a piece of jewelry like Kitt asked.
“Paedyn, we have to go.”
I turn toward Calum and the slight urgency in his voice. With a distant nod, I stride from the room.
There is always the next ceremony.
We walk in silence down the halls. Calum must sense my unease and graciously gives me a moment to myself. Or maybe it’s just my panicked thoughts that tell him I am in no mood for conversation. I hide shaking fingers in the many folds of my dress, curling my nails into the lace.
My heart pounds as we near the throne room. Sunlight streams through the many windows surrounding us to decorate this dark day with light. I blow out a breath as we round a corner, as if that alone could calm the swelling terror within me.
Surely, we will not go through with this wedding. Something will happen to stop this insanity. Kai will steal me away, or perhaps his brother will simply come to his senses. But there cannot possibly be a union at the end of that aisle.
I realize, as we halt before the throne room doors, that I never intended to make it to this day. Even when I let Kitt slip that ring on my finger, I hadn’t imagined we would ever get the chance to solidify that symbol with vows. I did not even expect to survive the Trials, let alone live to see my wedding day.
And after everything I have faced, this may be the most terrifying of them all.
I don’t get the chance to run from my future before the doors are swinging open.
Horrified, I stand there, watching my wedding slowly sprawl before me. My view of the throne room grows wider, displaying dozens of flowers with every inch. The mass of people only grows, all standing on either side of that rose-framed aisle. And when the doors groan to a halt, every eye turns to me.
Feet shuffle; heads turn. My body trembles; heart thrashes against my chest.
The look I’m wearing is alarming enough to have hushed whispers wafting over the crowd. I don’t hear them—I don’t hear anything past the blood pounding in my ears. My gaze lifts from the flowered aisle, dragging up slowly to meet the king’s.
He stands atop the dais, a Scholar behind him. A crown is perched atop a pedestal, its silver points elegantly lethal. Long emerald gems are fastened around it, only emphasizing the delicacy that deadly things often have.
I blink at it vaguely before recognition dawns on me. This is Queen Mareena’s crown—the trophy of my first Trial. It has been restored, impressively, to the ethereal state it likely once was. A lump forms in my throat at the thought of placing it on my head after robbing the first queen’s body of it.
The king’s own golden crown sits among his hair, paired with the deep green suit he wears beneath. Kitt’s eyes gleam, bright beneath the canopy of drooping flowers. Though the dark smudges surrounding them have been expertly concealed, the ashen color of his skin is stark within the swarm of color.
He looks as lost as I feel.
His hands fidget with the cuffs of his sleeves, twisting the buttons there incessantly.
He doesn’t want this either.
In another life, I might have offered him a comforting smile. Might have walked down this aisle on my father’s arm. But this life is harsh, and cruel, and has barely allowed me to live it.
And worst of all, I do not love him.
The thought is jolting, not because it shocks me, but because I have finally allowed myself not to want this. So many weeks have been spent justifying this union—for the kingdom, the Ordinaries, the hope of a better future. But what of my own? I do not love this man. No, it is his brother I have given my heart to.
Calum urges me forward with his arm twined around mine. I take my first step. Lips move around me—I don’t hear what they say. Kitt is staring at me with a distant look that smothers the handsome features of his face.
I walk stiffly to that altar, every step more damning than the last. Calum is an anchor at my side, helping to guide me to this fate. This is duty, I remind myself. This is hope for the future and forgiveness of the past. This is sacrifice.
One foot in front of the other.
My chest heaves.
I do not want this.
Kitt reaches for my hand.
I do not love him.
I hesitate. My heart stutters, begging me to damn sacrifice and choose selfishness. Choose Kai. Choose love.
But I’m not sure I know how to choose myself anymore. Or perhaps I never have. So I take the king’s arm, letting him guide me onto the dais. His skin is worryingly warm.
Roses surround us—a large crown of them above our heads and petals beneath our feet. I turn to face the king before allowing him to pull my slick palms into his own. We stare at each other, unsurety shrouding each of our faces. My heart pounds beneath the displayed scar etched into flushed skin, the sound echoing in my ears. I feel suddenly hollow, as though I have no control over my limbs, my life.
The Scholar begins speaking between us. I don’t want to hear his damning words, but they pelt me just the same.
“… gather here today to join Kitt Azer, king and savior of Ilya, and the lady Paedyn Gray in holy matrimony. Bear witness to their union and…”
My ears begin to ring, blotting out the bellowed decree. I stare pointedly at Kitt for any sign of regret or change of heart. But, terrifyingly, he looks rather content to stitch his soul to mine. That only has my gaze flicking frantically over the crowd in the hopes of finding some way out of this.
We can’t possibly go through with this.
The Scholar slips a ring onto Kitt’s left hand.
Right?
“Do you, Kitt Azer, take Paedyn Gray to be your wife and queen?”
My eyes crash into the green ones before me. I think I’ve stopped breathing. Kitt stares at me long enough to have hope sparking in my tightening chest. But the words that fall from his lips do not mirror that hesitance. “I do.”
I feel dizzy. The Scholar turns his attention to me.
“Do you, Paedyn Gray, take Kitt Azer to be your husband and king?”
My stomach flips, heart hanging on to the thread of freedom I have left. I am a single “I do” away from signing my soul with another’s name. One that is not Kai Azer, Enforcer, my cocky bastard.
The throne room is smothered in silence as I scan the expectant crowd. I look for him in every face, every gap between finely dressed bodies. Jax, Andy, Calum, Mira, Gail—strangers. Kai is nowhere to be found, just as he promised.
“Paedyn?” The Scholar raises his bushy brows at me.
Still, I wait for something to save me from this moment. I teeter before the rest of my life and beg for someone to catch me before I fall. My dress grows too tight as hope flees from my chest, stealing all the air with it.
It takes me a long moment to realize that nothing and no one will ever save me. Those who have in the past are dead. The one who would in this present is likely under a willow tree, already mourning me. So I face my fate alone and look it in the eyes.
Kitt shifts slightly, his gaze urging me to speak what I must.
Stronger than I feel and more damning than I let on, I utter, “I do.”
“Then I pronounce you husband and wife.”
The king nods slightly. I nod back as his queen.
“You may kiss the bride and seal this union.”
My mouth dries. I had forgotten about that bit.
Kitt, ever kingly and calm, leans in to press his lips to mine. It is soft, a bearing of his soul despite never doing so with words. This kiss tastes like the sweet end of an apology, or the lingering of a farewell. And when he pulls away, I’m left staring into the face of my husband.
I expel the panic from my being and swallow the realization of what I’ve done.
We turn toward the court, hand in hand. The Scholar lifts that lethal crown from its pedestal and lifts it high above my head. Bending my knees, I force the constant tremble from my limbs.
“People of Ilya, I present unto you, Paedyn Azer, your undoubted queen consort.” The Scholar’s decree rings through the throne room. “And your king, Kitt Azer, savior of Ilya. May their union bring prosperity to our kingdom and greatness to our histories.”
The court claps, forcing smiles onto begrudging faces. We step from the dais a married couple and walk down the aisle as royals. I focus only on making it beyond those open doors as we parade through the center of this court.
My gaze is fixed distantly on the sliver of freedom ahead when I see him.
Time slows. My heart splinters.
Kai stands in the doorway, his chest heaving as though he has sprinted past his best judgment and found himself here. A broken sort of acknowledgment of my fate fills his face. I see the exact moment he realizes he is too late.
His gray eyes flick between the two of us in disbelief. Even the Enforcer did not believe I would go through with it, and his hurt cuts me deep.
I failed him. I failed us.
Still, he musters a small smile.
It is the look of letting someone go.
And it tears me to pieces.
He was going to save me.
