“Don’t worry about it.” Lydia pushes the dagger closer to me. “Take it! He has so many he won’t even notice it’s gone.”
I hug her close. “Thank you, Lydia.”
Lydia sniffles as she releases me, wiping a stray tear away. “I’m going to miss you, Raelys.”
“I’ll miss you more,” I say softly. “There is no one like you in the world, Lydia. You are my dearest friend.”
“Write to me as soon as you can.”
“I will.” I place my hand over hers, giving it a light squeeze. I can’t tell her of my deal with Wrath, the promise to write hanging heavier than she realizes.
It’s tempting to tell her what's going on, but I can’t drag Lydia into this mess. This is my burden—mine to carry and mine alone. No amount of regret or second-guessing can change the path I am on.
“Goodbye, Raelys.”
“We will see each other again,” I vow.
With one last hug goodbye, she leaves, returning me to my solitude. I walk over to the trunk and hide the dagger wrapped in fabric inside one of my boots. I don’t want to explain if Eleanor finds it while packing, or worse, if she takes it from me. Closing the trunk, I lock the hinges and take a step back.
A part of me cannot believe I am leaving my home. The halls I have walked since childhood will soon be behind me. I prayed to Itheon day and night for my freedom, and while granted, the circumstances were askew. I have always longed to see what lies beyond the castle walls—to experience more ofwhat life has to offer. Now, that chance is finally mine, but braided within it is a dark power I’m forced to contend with.
A knock sounds at my door.
I open it to come face-to-face with a new guard. The soldier is stout and muscular, but I don’t bother familiarizing myself with his features. To know him would be to admit that Timothy will not return. There’s no room for grief, not for the friend who gave their life so I could keep mine. The world keeps dragging me forward.
“The King wishes to see you,” he says, devoid of joy.
As I exit, the guard follows me down the hall like a shadow, not speaking another word. I enter my father’s war room, watching him pore over maps on the large table in the center.
“You called for me, Father?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Ulrik starts. I anticipate his reprimands. A hacking cough wracks through him, causing him to double over. I wait for his episode to pass, standing there in silence while I watch him.
“Have you calmed down now?” Another lecture is hot on his tongue.
“I’m doing exactly as you ask. Tomorrow, I leave for Avelisar.” I try not to let the disgust fill my voice. My father is marrying me off to a man who is thirty-eight years my senior and sees no issue with that.
“You will do as told, Raelys,” Ulrik commands, and I know if I make him any angrier, it will send him into an early grave.
I hold up a hand to reassure him. “I understand. I’ll go to Avelisar, marry the King, and give him a son,” I lie.
“Don’t disappoint me,” he warns.
“I’ll miss you too, Father,” I say with a hint of cynicism. It’s difficult to shake the feeling that he won’t miss me. In fact, he’s probably pleased to be rid of me.
“We need this alliance.” Ulrik reminds me. He treats melike a wild animal that is a threat if released from my enclosure.
“I understand,” I comply, pulling my right sleeve down a little more.
“This is very important. The fate of the realm depends on this.”
I nod, forcing myself to stay still beneath the weight of his scrutiny. The deal I made with Wrath presses against my chest, tightening the air until it’s hard to breathe. I wait for what comes next, knowing the rant is far from over.
“You are a Valantis, one of the longest-standing human houses. I have raised you to act with poise, dignity, and grace, lest you forget.” Ulrik steps closer, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “And you willnotruin this for me!”
My father breaks into a haggard coughing fit as he doubles over in pain. His knuckles turn white as he grips the table's edge, his body trembling to steady himself—the once unshakable man, now brought low by an invisible force.
“Mother wouldn’t have wanted this,” I whisper.
