“I will marry no captive,” I reply, gripping my ax. I slide it out of its sheath, and everyone in the room stills. Marcello quirks a brow as if wondering if I’m going to take another swing at him. Instead, I carefully bring the blade to the binds on his wrists. I don’t want to risk nicking him and bringing more of a curse upon myself becausenatureor whatever deems it, decided that I’m trying to kill him again.
The severed binds drop to the ground soundlessly.
I raise my gaze to Marcello. “You are free to go. I will fight anyone who tries to stop you.” I flick my gaze to both Tira and the Werma so that they feel my threat. Tira, I would not ever intentionally hurt, but all I need is one reason to act out against the Werma.
Marcello takes a step toward the door, but then pauses and turns, holding up a single finger. “So, you’re saying that the only way for her to live is for her to marry me?” His eyes seem to bore into the Werma in an unsettlingly calculating way.
The Werma gives a brief nod. “It may not be a definitive course, but it is her only course. If hope should dare, then your bride she must be.”
I press my eyes shut in frustration. Of course, the Werma is incapable of giving a straight answer.
He turns to Tira. “And you believe her when she says it is the only way? Despite that your friend despises this woman?”
Tira nods. “No matter how Laduga feels toward her, the Werma knows things. Things that we could only hope to dream about. She has never been wrong before.”
He turns to me, and I fold my arms, trying not to squirm under his cunning gaze. “You believe her as well?”
I work my jaw.
“You do,” he says although I don’t know what he sees in my gaze gives away my true feelings. “And yet you would let me go free when I am your only hope to survive? Do you not fear death?”
“I fear what I might do in order to try to survive more than I fear death,” I reply at last. It’s an interesting question, indeed I feel a chilling to my very soul at the thought of dying and whatever eternity awaits after.
Once we thought we became the gods’ servants when we died. But now they are gone and that begs the question… where did their souls go? I worry it’s the same place that all mortal souls wind up, and if not, even a god can escape it then I have no hope of ever leaving its clutches.
And yet toforcesomeone to marry me? To have them become a part of me, and not even of their own volition. That would be the most despicable thing ever.
Marcello drags his foot across the ground, as he moves another little bit toward the door. He presses the flats of his palms together, staring at them contemplatively before he abruptly turns. “I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” I ask, my eyebrows furrowing. I already gave him permission to leave. He does not need to announce it.
“I’ll marry you.”
“Like dragon fire you will,” I reply with a snort. I feel my eyebrows rise as I take in that look on his face. An utterly sincere and dare I say stubborn look? “Have you forgotten? I kidnapped you and tried to murder you. I will not make a good wife.”
“But you won’t die,” he says. “And I won’t have your blood on my head.”
“Don’t argue, Laduga,” Tira hisses. “Please.”
I snap my mouth shut before I turn to the Werma of all people for support. She raises a single wizened brow. “Do you wish to die?”
“No,” I breathe out.
“Good, then you and the Imperial will wed. Now.” She states it as if the whole matter has been resolved when in truth absolutely nothing has been resolved.
“I don’t know—” I begin but just then a wracking cough tearing through my frame cuts me off.
“Hush girl, you haven’t the time for your own arguments,” the Werma scolds. I pull my hand away from my mouth to reveal an inky black substance on my hand. I must have coughed it out. I slowly raise my head to see Marcello looking at me with concern, Tira in horror, and the Werma with resolve.
“Time is not our ally,” the Werma announces. “We must act quickly.”
I open my mouth to protest but suddenly the world around me tips and sways as if I’m suddenly aboard a longboat that is being tossed to and fro on stormy seas. My knees give way underneath me, and I would end up on the ground, but Marcello lunges forward and catches me around my shoulders.
“What’s happening to her?” he demands.
“She is dying, you fool boy, what a ridiculous question. Unless we bind your souls, the curse will claim her before the night is out.”
Marcello tightens his arms around me as he adjusts his position, lowering to his knees with me sprawled against his chest. I wish I could pull away but suddenly it’s as if I haven’t any strength left in the whole of my body. Outside I can hear the frantic throaty cries of my dragons who can probably see my distress in through the window.
