Please, let there be another ways this ends.
The door creaked open as two men staggered over each other to get through the doorway.
I shuffled the journal and the paper quickly into the drawer and spun around to greet the two men.
Both appeared brute and roguish. One of the burly men stood at the doorway, a shadow against the bright candlelight hallway, while the other one stepped into the room. The man had seen better days by the look of the eyepatch, scars, and open sores dotting his body.
He held out a box draped in a black ribbon. “Order from the master. He said to put this on for the ceremonies.”
The stench of infection rolled off him, smothering the room in sickness.
I crossed my arms, crinkling my nose in defiance. “And if I refuse?”
The one from the door piped up, sneering in delight. “He also said that you might say that. If you don’t want the dress, then he has given us the order to get you there any way possible, even if that means stripping you naked and having a little—fun.”
I snarled, taking the box. “Thanks, but no thanks. If that is all, leave me to change.”
The two looked on, the sickly one blushing as he averted his gaze whereas the one in the door was unfazed by my comment.
“Leave.”
“Don’t get any ideas.”
Then there was silence, and I was left with the box.
I set it on the bed and carefully unwrapped it. In it lay a gown of silvery white and a white postcard with Miriam’s writing scrawled across the pristine paper.
A small wedding gift. Sorry, Valeria, for not being the sister you deserved.
I took the gown out, unsure of what she meant by small. A knife clattered to the bottom of the box, simple and understated with the meaning of Miriam’s final words clear as day. I clutched the blade to my chest. I did not know what this cost her to get this here, but this was a sound message. This was her own attempt at making things right and, with that, a means to fight.
I readied myself, slipping the knife into my bodice letting a faint smile creep upon my lips. When the men finally come to collect me, I was sitting on the bed calmly with the same grin.
“What is with the funny look?” one asked with a grimace. “Finally change your tune?”
The cool blade pressed softly against my breast, the images of William’s death played through my head.
“You can say that.”
The ballroom was staged for the biggest charade and class act I would ever put on. The musicians swayed solemnly, holding their instruments tight, beginning to slowly play the dread march. Although it appeared that the ballroom was not where the ceremony was to be held. No, William’s henchmen continued to guide me until we were to the double doors overlooking the garden.
One of William’s men’s arms was looped around me tightly, pressing into my body, forcing us forward. The garden was draped in elegance, and beauty from the roses glinted as rubies at night. At the end of the aisle, a priest from the town stood in audacious robes of white gold, pure as the snow that covered the grounds.
William stood to the priest’s left, smug and grinning villainously. I had thought the gods might have to smite him for the awful look crawling upon his face.
I shuddered against the wind. The snow had begun to coat the rose bushes in earnest, falling faster than the petals could bear, which fell weightlessly onto the cold ground, framing the aisle lit by the glow of the moon, staining everything in red.
I was unsure as to why William had opted for us to lure Silas outside rather than inside. The weather was less than ideal. Even the fog that kept to the roads crept its way into the garden and spooling smoky tendrils. It appeared the castle grounds, too, sensed the end nearing.
The men pushed us down the aisle, and I stumbled, only to be yanked back violently. The grip on my upper arm tightened, constricting painfully as each step brought me closer. I prayed that Silas stayed as far away from these people. I fear for not only my safety but for his.
Silas, if you can hear me, please know I-I love you.
The words echoed across my mind in the same way that all that time ago I had reached out beyond myself to see him again. I was armed with the will to fight and find his name to end whatever curse that held him captive.
I stood upon the altar, and William forcefully grabbed my hand, shoving a silver band onto my finger. The priest began mumbling the wedding prayer, his tongue stumbling on the words as William’s impatience was running out.
“Say the blasted words, Priest.”
