It’s never been ready.
I shouldn’t feel regret and remorse for that, but I do. Mother died a year later, when I was fifteen, killed when thieves ambushed a carriage she was riding in. Maybe if I’d had magic, I would’ve been able to stop it.
As it was, Asher and I could do nothing but watch. We were riding in the carriage behind, and Asher dove to cover me when the banditsstarted shooting. My mother took two arrows through the chest before we even knew what was happening. Asher’s mother, Lady Clara, was the queen’s first lady-in-waiting—and Mother’s closest friend. I still remember the sound of her screaming.Not like this, she kept shouting.Not like this.
Asher’s mother died, too. But not during that attack. Because of it. Those desperate words were repeated at her trial. My brother said they confirmed her guilt, that she was somehow involved in the crime. I always felt they were a declaration of her sorrow.
I shouldn’t be thinking about this. Memories of Mother are too painful, and my heart already aches from everything happeningnow. When Lady Clara was bound for execution and Asher was exiled, I begged Dane to intercede. He refused. Our mother was dead, and he stood there coldly while my closest friend was dragged out of the palace in chains. I sobbed at my brother’s feet, pleading for him to make it stop.
That was ten years ago, and I’ve never forgiven him.
He’s still glaring at the seamstress, who’s stopped sliding pins through the fabric and now looks ready to cower.
“It’s dark,” I snap at Dane. “And freezing. Maybe your staff can handle their work in these conditions, but intricate stitching requires fingers thataren’tfrozen. But by all means, we can stop immediately.”
“You are to meet your future husband in the morning. It’s nearly midnight.”
“Oh?” I say breezily. “I thought I was to meet the king of Incendar. Is he bringing my future husband with him?”
He clenches his jaw. “Marjoriana—”
“And I simply do not know why you care about the state of my sleep or my gown or anything to do with me at all,” I add. “You’re clearly determined to send me away.”
“You are not beingsent away,” he seethes.
“You’re right. I’m not. I’ve told you a thousand times that I will not be accepting this proposal. Just as I won’t be pawed at by some land baron who wants to advance his political ambitions, I refuse to wed some king who wants a trophy for slaughtering men on the battlefield. You could have saved everyone a lot of trouble if you’d listened to mea month ago.” I look down at the seamstress. “Please continue,” I say gently. “You must be tired.”
Dane glares at me, his jaw set. The woman gives him a narrow glance and moves to adjust another pin. This time when she pokes me, I don’t move a muscle.
Charlotte looks from me to my brother and clears her throat. “Perhaps I could call for some tea—”
“Yes,” says Dane. “Leave us. Both of you.”
The seamstress bobs another quick curtsy, and then she practically runs from the room.
Charlotte doesn’t. Her eyes are on me, and she’s waiting formyanswer.
“Tea would be lovely,” I say, meaning it. I’m absolutely freezing. “Thank you.”
Though as soon as she’s through the door, I realize the tea will be just as cold as everything else right now. I frown.
“Marjoriana,” my brother says, stepping close to me. “I have endured your silly rebellion long enough. I will not have you making declarations of yourrefusal—”
“My rebellion isn’t silly. The fact that you chose to engineer an alliance without my participation was silly.”
“I am the crown prince! Acting regent in Father’s stead! I do not need todeferto you.”
As if he ever would. “I am your sister,” I say. “You could spare a thought to my well-being.”
“Your well-being!” He looks like he wants to knock me off the stool.
“Yes. You’re marrying me off to a man who burns people to ash when they displease him, so it’s only a matter of time.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Your well-being has been thoroughly negotiated. The terms of our alliance are very clear.”
“Oh, really!” I exclaim. “I would love to read the details, then. Am I to bed him on certain nights? Is there a monthly quota I must fulfill?”
He clenches his jaw again, and thunderclouds roll through his eyes.
