Again, I’m struck by his humility. His honesty. His care. Perhaps he and my mother haven’t protected his reign in the best way possible, especially for a seelie monarch, but I do believe he has the potential to be a better king.
“Besides,” he says, and his kind grin returns, washing away the fatigue that had darkened his expression, “your marriage ensures that we retain a high place in society even if my reign ends. I know this must be a shock for you, and you might even resent us for the engagement, but I do hope you know how greatly we appreciate your role in this family. No, not just that. You, Rosaline. We appreciateyou. We’ve loved you for so long.”
I wince at the sound of my real name. It still feels…wrong. But what feels far more right is the satisfaction that surges inside me at hearing I’m appreciated. Loved. It buries my spears of irritation and my annoyance at being engaged to a stranger. It blooms in my chest in a way that feels far warmer than the effects of the fae wine.
Father reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. Holding my eyes, he says, “Can we count on you, daughter? Can you make this sacrifice for your family? Can you save the Briars?”
My lungs grow tight, and part of me wants to pull my hand away and run. But that’s just fear, isn’t it? I don’t want to marry a stranger. Stars, I could never be all right with that. And I don’t want to leave the family I just met. But theyaremy family. The one thing I’ve wanted all my life. They’re depending on me. Something lies beneath that, a different kind of fear from the one that made me want to run. It creeps around my heart, whispering what I might lose if I refuse this engagement: I could losethem. If I rebel against this marriage, my family loses the alliance with the Phillipses. They lose their chance at improving their reputation with such a promising marriage. Worse, they could go bankrupt and lose the throne. They’ll be left with nothing.
No, notthey.
We.
I’m part of this family. If they fall, I fall. While I don’t care much about being a princess, I retain the same material yearnings I always have—for ballrooms, fine dresses, and a place in society. If I lose my family, I lose all of that too. That, of course, pales in comparison to losing my family. If I become the cause of their downfall, lose them I will.
I could never live with that.
And now I realize there is something worse than marrying a stranger.
I swallow the dryness in my throat, so sharp it feels like knives. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
The warm smile that spreads over his face is an instant reward, glossing over the tightness in my lungs, my throat. “You truly are a Briar.”
The words thud against my heart. I’m a Briar. If I do this, I’m one of them.
“If only we could leave with you tomorrow,” he says. “Your mother begged me to at least allow her to accompany you, but I don’t trust her not to draw attention to herself. That’s just how she is. She’s too bright not to shine. And that, in turn, would draw attention to you. It’s essential we keep your location a secret until you’re safely with your fiancé. Even better if we can manage until your wedding day.”
“Which will be when?” I ask, bringing my glass of wine to my lips.
He frowns, as if surprised I don’t know the answer. “Two weeks from today.”
I freeze, and I’m lucky I don’t choke on my mouthful of wine. I blink at him a few times, then swallow my hearty sip. “Two weeks? I’m getting married intwo weeks?”
Father stammers before speaking. “I…I told you we have merely weeks before the collectors announce our debt. The Phillipses will not release the promised funds until your marriage is final.”
“Horus!” comes Mother’s voice, tone edged with scolding. “You weren’t supposed to tell her yet.”
He shrinks down while I slowly turn toward my mother. “You were going to keep this from me?”
Her expression sinks with apology. She clasps my hand in hers. “Lovey, I was going to wait until tomorrow. This is your special day! I didn’t want worries to cloud your thoughts.”
My ire softens the slightest bit, but my lungs have grown tight yet again. My body moves before I can stop myself, legs straightening as I rise from my seat. The backs of my knees hit the cushion of my chair, forcing it back with a screech. My relatives take notice and cease talking to look at me. Smiles remain frozen on their faces, though their expressions have turned curious.
“Are you giving a speech?” asks a fae with a weathered face and slitted pupils. An uncle by the name of Joseph, I’ve learned. “You’ll have to speak up, I’m hard of hearing.”
I point toward the double doors. “I’m going for air.”
“We haven’t had cake yet,” Mother says, batting her lashes.
“I’ll be back in—”
“Then I’ll come with you.” Mother rises from her seat and reaches for my hand.
I take a step back, sending my chair screeching again. “No, I just need a moment alone.” A moment to breathe. A moment to reconcile where my life is going. To assess the weight of my new position, my new responsibilities.
Mother reaches for my hand again, but Father’s voice has her freezing in place. “Divina,” he says, voice soft yet stern. “Give her some space.”
Mother’s face falls, and I ignore the way my heart plummets in tandem. Instead, I cast a grateful look at my father and rush toward the other end of the room. Realizing my wineglass is still in hand, I quickly drain it. As I reach the closed doors of the dining hall, the foxes push them open. Just then, the feline fae arrives like clockwork to refill my glass. This time, I find her presence grating. With a grin, she lifts her bottle from the tray and angles it toward my glass. Before she can fill it with a single drop, I wrench the entire bottle from her hand and march the rest of the way out of the room.
