"And these." Ursik produces a handful of thorny stems, each one carefully preserved and tied with red thread. "Rose-thorns to represent the pain that comes before joy. You're supposed to keep them under your pillow to ensure prophetic dreams about your future together."
The thorns look wickedly sharp despite their supposed spiritual significance. I take an involuntary step backward, and Kai's attention sharpens on my face.
"There's more," Ursik continues, oblivious to my growing distress. "Red cloth scraps from every family in the clan—eachone represents their blessing on your union. And these carved hearts?—"
"Stop." The word cuts through his enthusiastic explanation like a blade. "I don't... I can't..."
The panic is building now, that familiar tightness in my chest that makes breathing feel like drowning. Gifts. Traditions. Expectations. A whole clan's worth of people who think I'm supposed to be grateful for being chosen, who've spent their time and skill creating tokens of a celebration I never agreed to participate in.
"Saela?" Kai's voice seems to come from very far away. "What's wrong?"
But I can't explain what's wrong, can't put into words the way these beautiful, carefully made objects feel like chains being forged around my wrists. The arrows and thorns and scraps of red cloth blur together in my vision, symbols of a life I'm supposed to want but that feels like burial alive.
"I need air," I manage, pushing past both of them toward the door. "I just need?—"
My hand closes on the latch, and for one wild moment I think I might actually make it outside, might find space to breathe and think and figure out how to escape this suffocating web of tradition and expectation.
Then Kai's voice stops me cold.
"The guards won't let you past the longhouse steps."
I turn to stare at him, and the resignation in his expression confirms what I already know. "I'm a prisoner."
"You're protected," Ursik says, but his enthusiasm has dimmed, confusion replacing the warm welcome he offered moments before. "The whole clan is watching to make sure no harm comes to Cupid's chosen?—"
"Which means they're watching to make sure I don't run away." The words taste bitter, but speaking them aloudsomehow makes the panic recede slightly. At least now we're being honest about what this is.
Kai looks like he wants to argue, then sighs instead. "Yes. They won't let you leave."
The confirmation settles over me like ice water, crystalline and shocking. I'm trapped here, surrounded by people who think they're honoring me with gifts and attention and constant surveillance. And somewhere out there, the Stonevein are still hunting, still killing anyone who might have helped me reach safety.
Safety. The irony isn't lost on me. I'm probably safer here than anywhere else I could run, protected by an entire clan of warriors who believe I'm divinely blessed. But safety that comes with chains isn't freedom—it's just a prettier prison.
"How long?" I ask, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "How long before they stop watching?"
"I'm trying, Saela," Kai says quietly.
It tells me everything I need to know. That his conversation with Bronn changed nothing. After that, if I haven't been successfully convinced to stay, they'll probably have to decide between forcing me into marriage or dealing with the political consequences of defying divine will. Neither option sounds appealing for anyone involved.
A new knock interrupts my spiraling thoughts—this one softer, more musical than Ursik's deliberate pattern. Kai opens the door to reveal an orc woman with deep green skin and long black hair that gleams like polished stone. Her warm green eyes take in the scene quickly—Ursik's scattered gifts, my obvious distress, Kai's defensive posture—and her expression shifts to something that looks like understanding.
"I thought our divine guest might appreciate some breakfast," she says, holding up a wooden tray laden with food that smells better than anything I've encountered inmonths. "And perhaps some conversation that doesn't involve ceremonial arrows."
The last part is directed at Ursik with a fond but pointed look that makes him grin sheepishly.
"This is Shae," Kai says, stepping aside to let her enter. "Bronn's mate and the voice of reason in our family."
Shae sets the tray on the central table and turns to face me properly, her expression gentle but direct. "Saela, right? I'm sorry about the overwhelming welcome—the men get excited about traditions and forget that not everyone shares their enthusiasm for ancient weaponry as gifts."
There's something in her tone that makes me relax slightly despite myself. Not mockery, exactly, but a kind of affectionate exasperation that suggests she's dealt with this kind of masculine cluelessness before.
"It's fine," I say automatically, then realize how hollow the words sound. "I just wasn't expecting..."
"A clan's worth of people to suddenly have opinions about your love life?" Shae's smile is wry but kind. "Trust me, I remember the feeling."
She settles into one of the chairs around the table, her movements graceful despite her substantial frame. Everything about her radiates a calm competence that makes the tightness in my chest ease fractionally.
"Ursik, why don't you put those tokens somewhere safe for now?" she suggests. "I'm sure Saela will appreciate them more once she's had time to adjust to everything."
