His gaze turns hard. “Your stepmother warned me you’d be difficult. That you have a selfish streak and care only for yourself. I didn’t believe her at first, seeing how timid you appeared. I knew you were untamed, yes, but I never thought you’d be so unfeeling. Now I see it. Now I understand why she asked for the promises I gave. You carry far more sin than I realized.”
His words turn my stomach, and I want to rage at him. But a question nags at the back of my mind. “What did you promise my stepmother in exchange for my hand?”
“Use of my private apartments. Positions at court for your sisters.” He pauses, and there’s something smug in the lift of his lips. “A monthly allowance for your family’s upkeep.”
“An allowance.”
“From your inheritance. Something that should have been bestowed by your kindness and goodwill but will now be distributed by me.”
“My inheritance?” I grind the words between my teeth. “You have no right to my inheritance, nor does she!”
“After we are married, your inheritance will fall under my control.”
I shake my head. “No, it won’t. It’s not even under my control yet. I don’t claim it until—”
“Until you turn nineteen. Yes, I was told. However, marriage overrides that.”
Alarm rushes through me. He’s right. I remember my stepmother saying as much when I overheard her confessing to Imogen about our bargain.
So long as that wretched girl remains under my care, my stipend will be paid. Once she turns nineteen, it will be her choice to continue payments. And if she’s married…no. She cannot marry. She’d no longer be a valid dependent and her husband would gain control over it all.
“You’re going to steal my inheritance,” I say.
“There will be no theft involved. As your husband, it will be my right.”
“Under human law, maybe, but I’m half fae! The same rules don’t apply.”
“You could petition the queen with that argument,” he says, “but considering I have her favor, she won’t care about the woes of some unknown half-human girl. Besides, once we marry tomorrow, there will be nothing to petition. The prince himself will oversee the signing of our license, and all will be settled.”
I frown. “The prince?”
Marus nods. “With Queen Nyxia away, Prince Franco rules in her stead. While we could wed at Saint Lazaro’s Cathedral, both your stepmother and I deemed expedience to be prudent.”
“I won’t do it,” I say, taking a step back from him.
“The prince already agreed. We have an appointment with him tomorrow.”
“Do you expect to take me kicking and screaming?” For that’s what it will take. My stepmother can inflict all the pain she wants with the power of our bargain. Now that I know the depths of Mrs. Coleman’s scheme and the darkness behind Marus’ kindness, there’s nothing anyone can do to make me go through with this.
“Kicking and screaming,” he says slowly as if testing the weight of the words on his lips. Then he nods. “If I must.”
I open my mouth, a thousand arguments burning my tongue. But what can I even say? My first instinct is to claim the prince would never condone such an obviously forced marriage, but based on my irritating exchange with Prince Franco behind Madame Flora’s shop, not to mention his careless, arrogant attitude at the ball…I’m not so sure that’s true.
Pinning him with a glare, I take another step back, lips curled in a snarl. “I’d rather die.”
He lifts his chin, staring down his nose at me. “I shall pray for your salvation.” Then, with a lunge, he captures me in his arms.
15
EMBER
Iscream and buck as his arms encircle me, but it’s no use. He’s so much stronger than I would have guessed for a man of the church. In the blink of an eye, he has my back to his chest, my arms trapped against my sides. I aim a kick at his foot, but he lifts me off my feet and hauls me to the other side of the parlor, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a prayer.
“Saint Lazaro, Most Holy Above…”
With a roar, I slam a foot against his shin, but he pays me no heed and continues toward a closed door. He reaches it and pushes it open. The light from the parlor reveals a bedroom, but darkness quickly envelops me as he shuts the door behind us. I increase my struggle, trying to writhe from his grasp as he carries me through the room. Then he releases me, heaving me away from him. I hit something soft, and I realize it must be the bed. Fearing more sinister actions will soon follow, I scramble to the other side until I roll off and strike solid ground. I freeze, blinking into the darkness and willing my eyes to adjust. A sliver of light shines to my right where I see Brother Marus’ silhouetted form slip out the door. He slams it shut, leaving me in darkness again. The handle rattles with the sound of a key turning in the lock.
I charge toward it, stumbling across the floor, coming up against unseen bedroom furniture again and again as I make my way to where I last saw the light—light that subtly spills in from under the door. Finally, I reach it and test the handle, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me out!” I shout, pounding my fists against the door. I pause and press my ear to the wood, listening for clues of Brother Marus’ whereabouts.
