A bird thrashing in its cage, finally freed.
Was it too much? Did I care?
It felt so bloody good being completely and totally within my element. All eyes were on me now and it was intoxicating.
Finally, I yielded. My fingers slowed and the pace dwindled until the last note struck, then tapered off, and I rested my hands upon my lap.
Vega and I locked eyes. She was holding her breath. The entire room was. Only the wind’s cry through the frigid night dared to sound.
My father drank deeply from his tankard, then stood to his feet and looked at me hard.
Then he clapped.
He clapped loud and slow, thundering through the silent feasting hall. His drunk gaze panned around the room, demanding his court do the same. Or else.
Obliging their king, the crowd broke into applause that roiled through the room. With an uneasy smile, I stood up and curtsied to the king and his court.
“My daughter is of greattalent. She is beautiful, as all can see, and she is a Blackthorn.” But he held no joy in the words. No pride. Every ounce of my body knew it was a lie. This was all a lie. “So, hear me now,” the king shouted.
The clapping halted in a heartbeat. The room fell silent as the dead, waiting for the words that could take or spare life.
“My daughter is the greatest prize of Oakhaven, a rare red rose among many thorns. That is why I announce that my daughter, the Rose of Oakhaven, is now accepting proposals of marriage.” My stomach sank. “Only the most noble of men will be worthy of my daughter’s hand in marriage. All suitors will come forth tomewith offers and only the most deserving and fruitful partnerships will earn her hand and dowry.” The crowd rippled again with applause. “Now. Let us feast on this Guardian’s blessed Yule.” The king lumbered back to his throne. Music erupted. Laughter exploded.
Too loud, it was all too loud. I needed air.
“Elowyn, are you alright?” Vega caught me as I lost my footing briefly. The room was spinning. Hot, I was so bloody hot in this Guardians-damned gown. And … fuck, I was going to be sick. My feet moved without warning. I pushed through the crowd of false, smiling fools staring at me, watching me, wanting me but in all the wrong ways.
I needed to get out of here.
I dashed through an open archway, the cold winter hitting me hard, stealing my breath.
Marriage. Marriage? I knew he’d called me here for something. But this. Was this it? Infernum, I should have fucking known. Hot nausea waved through me. I knew it could happen one day, Vega had prepared me, but at five and twenty I was past the normal age to wed by years. I’d assumed being an illegitimate daughter meant being too worthless to sell off to the highest bidder. That no one would want me.
The world tilted on its axis. What if he forced me to marry an old man? Or a disgusting fool like those cretins who’d grabbed and pulled at me.
Or a man like him.
The ladies in my literature married to bring peace across Oakhaven. Forced to spend nights in strangers’ beds to prevent wars. To spread theirlegs, lie back, and think of country. Birth an heir or face being beheaded on the Guardians-damned steps of Highthorn Castle like my mother. Anxiety fully took over as my hands found my neck. I couldn’t breathe.
Falling to my knees, I crumpled, gasping for air as snow pinpricked my face and the cold, bitter wind whistled in my ears.
“Are you okay?” a solemn voice questioned. Shooting to my feet, I dusted off my gown. No one could see me like this.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine—I just was a little hot in there and—” My eyes met the man I had danced with. Sir Cedric Gyldford. “Oh, it’s you.”
He said nothing. Just looked at me with those verdant eyes that I could tell held secrets and sadness.
“I’m quite fine, thank you, Sir Gyldford,” I said with a curtsy meant to dismiss him. Turning to the door, I faced the feast inside that seemed to mock me, jeering uproariously. My legs refused to budge.
“Please, call me Cedric.”
“That would behighlyinappropriate.” It was already bad enough that I had shamelessly flirted with him before. Men were one of the few vices I indulged, in the safety of Granger House’s distance. Inexperienced cooks’ sons, a tutor or two. Men who would never dare say they’d bedded the king’s daughter because they would face being hanged. But here, of all places, I knew the chaste charade was a necessity. No matter how handsome he was.
I turned back to him, unable to rejoin the feast.
“You didn’t know he was to make that announcement, did you?” Cedric asked.
“No, I didn’t.”
