“Someday you will understand.” His words seemed so disjointed. Not at all as if they were even meant to be strung together. This conversation gave me the sense that my father was lost. He was acting completely out of character, and not at all like his normal direct and boastful self. “You might as well know now that I’ve formed an alliance with King Aswell.”
“Ohhh.” My voice dropped into a whisper. Something in the air was off. Father’s voice was abnormally calm and stable. Not at all like his dramatic persona that enhances when he drinks.
“He’s agreed to use his military to protect us. He speaks as if he’s sure he can put an end to this war, but he’s asked for your hand in marriage, and I’ve agreed.”
“W-what?” I stuttered out. Father’s words went completely over my head. Clearly something had gone horribly wrong with my hearing. Nothing about what he said made sense. “Excuse me, but what did you say?” I turned my head, leaning my ear in.
“I said, you’re getting married to King Aswell.” He raised his plump index finger, wagging it at me, reminiscent of a child who needed scolding. “The decision is made.”
I blinked, taking his words like a bullet into my gut. The stern expression he fixed on me wasn’t one to argue with. I’d tried that before and always failed. Yet, I couldn’t stand here and remainquiet. I couldn’t stand here at all . . . I spun on my heels and fled from his study.
No doubt about it, the most gut-punching thing that could happen in life is having the man who God appointed to protect you, end up being the man who was solely responsible for destroying your future.
Or maybe that’s just the busting of the biggest lie I’d ever been told. Maybe Father’s goal never was to protect me? Maybe it was always about preserving his name and fortune.
I scurried up the front staircase, not sure where I was going until the rumble in my stomach got too hard to ignore, and I burst through the bathroom door. The bitterness of bile diluted the burn of stomach acid as the two fluids meshed, searing my esophagus. The heat of vomit flooded my mouth before cresting my throat. Parting my lips over the porcelain toilet, I let it spill, and cried out, “I would rather die than marry that man!”
I shuddered, recalling my father's announcement. I was blindsided. He didn’t even ask my opinion. It was as casual as telling me we were having soup for dinner. No emotion.
Swiping my mouth with the sleeve of my gown, I pulled myself off the marble floor and sniffed back tears. I fled to my room. Ruenella found me in the hallway, falling into step with me. She beckoned, “Erralee, you don’t have a choice.”
“So, you knew about this too?” I barked out, disgustedly.
She ignored my ill tone. “The front-line army is depleted, and all the other countries are abandoning us, and pulling their troops. They are opening the draft. Our people are dying. King Aswell promised his military in exchange for your hand in marriage. His army is the strongest and most feared. They could end this overnight. Everything will return to normal if you do this for our country.”
“Our people?” I glared at her, a growing wedge of disagreement swelled between us.
No, our friends. And if you think he’s so wonderful, why don’t you offer to marry him?
Nobody wanted this war to end more than I did. This war was defining half of my generation, because it killed the other half.
Still, two wrongs—or even thousands of wrongs—can never magically become a right . . . no matter how hard I wished it would be enough.
I fought the defeated sigh, that begged for release, by burying every thought of surrender deep into my gut. I didn’t need a reminder of any of the war injustices. I was haunted by Father’s hollowed-out, jumbled words as they rang over and over in my head.
My own Father hadsold me!
I’d ratherdiethan be used as a pawn in twisted war games.Even if it meant my country would be forced to continue an unjust war. Father was wrong. My country would be better off winning this war through its own blood and sweat.
I would be better off . . . disappearing.
“The only way that man will ever have my hand is if he chops it off.” I spit out with disgust. I shivered as I blew through the open bedroom door, and headed to my walk-in closet, studying the garments in front of me. Everything hung neatly on perfect white hangers. Dresses made from the finest silks, bedazzled with jewels, and matching cashmere wraps. Raised as any modern princess would be, I had never wanted for anything materially, and it showed in my closet.
With seconds ticking away on the clock, I understood all too well that the only way I could get out of this marriage was if I kept time on my side.
I would pack nothing.
“Who am I kidding? I won’t need any of this anymore,” I murmured as I closed the doors and hurried across the room, back out into the hall, not stopping until I got to the backstaircase, which was reserved for staff. I barreled down the steps, ready to slip out the back door.
I halted on my heel swiftly as ice ran through my veins.
King Aswell was in the middle of the hall, blocking my passage with a large velvet box in his hand. Slowing my steps, I straightened my spine and proceeded cautiously with a polite curtsy. “King Aswell.”
“I suppose you think you are going to run away.” His voice was smooth, but not condescending. He tipped his head toward me in a way that appeared humble, especially when I compared his stance to the way my father stood, tall, and stiff. His eyes were black as coal, and even though he didn’t do anything to make his expression harsh, the darkness of his eyes gave me shivers.
How did he even know to wait for me here? This staircase was for staff. I tossed a look back over my shoulder, and all the way down both ends of the empty hallway. No one was around. It made no sense for King Aswell to take a post here, unless my parents had this entire castle secured. My chin quivered through my denial. “I was going to the forest.”
“I won’t stop you.” He didn’t waver from his stance blocking me, letting the pause in the conversation drag on for several beats. “Let it be known that if you do run, your father will banish you forever. Your kingdom will lose everything.” His gaze lowered to the velvet box, and he studied it as if seeing it for the first time, before pushing it forward. It wasn’t a gentle push, or even something that was hurried from the normal excitement you have when you present someone with a gift. It was an oddly smooth whisking motion, reminding me of how a snake slithers. Quiet. Calculated.
