My sigh bled disappointment, but I couldn’t stride up onto the deck in my wet leathers or a tunic and pants. I suspected those outfits would deepen Lore’s scowl. I didn’t care aboutpleasing him, but I didn’t want to embarrass my future husband.
It was clear my life was going to change and not necessarily in a good way. I couldn’t remain a border fortress dragon rider and trainer forever. The king would not have agreed to a marriage with a woman like that. He’d insisted on a willing bride and that she be fae royalty.
If nothing else, my dead father, the former king of Bledmire Court, guaranteed that, though I was going to do my best to forget he’d sired me and focus on my mother, the High Lady of Weldsbane Court he’d murdered. Sadly, you could buddy up with friends of your choice, but you couldn’t select your family.
After peeling off my damp leathers, I washed quickly in the bathroom, the nyxin trotting behind me, sniffing the floor wherever I went. Back in the bedroom, I lifted the dress, hoping my spell had been delayed but finally come through, that the dress’s appearance had improved while I was in the bathroom.
No chance of that.
“Sad,” I told the nyxin. “Truly sad.”
I tugged it over my head and screwed my body this way and that to fasten it in the back, huffing and snarling until I’d finished. I smoothed it across my hips and spun to make the skirt flare. Tempest had gifted me with something lovely. It was too bad I hadn’t asked her to use magic to make it stay that way until I could wear it.
Well, it was the nicest outfit I had. It would have to do.
I went to the vanity and sat, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The sun had pinkened my cheeks, and I hadn’t thought to bring powder or anything I could use to cover the redness.
My hair looked atrocious, some of it still in the arrangement I’d made back at the manor, the rest dangling around my face in loose curls. Kinart used to love brushing my hair, exclaiming about the color, the thickness, and the way it waved. He’d stuff his face into it and suck in a breath, blowing it back against my nape to bring out my shivers.
I needed to stop thinking about Kinart.
He was dead, and I was running away again, hoping this time I could put enough distance between me and his memory. Maybe then I could find a way to breathe.
As for my hair, I mostly hated it, but only because it got in the way when I battled or worked with a dragon. It had been long overdue for a cut when Kinart was killed, and after that, I couldn’t bear to sever the strands he’d adored.
“Fix it.” I’d worked as a lady’s maid. While I hadn’t done hair or make-up for the would-be queen myself, I’d watched the others do it many times. Surely it wasn’t that tricky.
Minutes later, I glared at my image in the mirror. “Alright, fixing hairistricky.” I was tempted to try magic to arrange it, but tiny bolts of lightning might scorch it off my head. The last thing I needed to do was appear on the deck bald.
No one had arranged it for me when I lived in the fortress except me, so I gathered it at the nape of my neck and secured it with the strip of stretchy fabric.
Standing, I studied my image, not liking how the dress hung or the way it puckered in odd ways here and there due to the numerous wrinkles.
“Enough,” I told my reflection. “You’re not marrying the man you love. This is a proxy thing with a snide pretend groomand a captain speaking the words, not a true elder. Before you meet the king, you can ask Lord Briscalar to use magic to craft a few nice dresses. Then you can lift your chin and greet the king demurely in one of those. Curtsy. Take his hand and hope he has more personality than Lore.”
As I slipped out the door and into the hall, the nyxin tried to follow.
“You have to stay here,” I said, giving him a quick pat before securing the latch.
Lord Briscalar was not waiting like he’d said he would, but maybe he’d gone to the bathroom. Or to order the meal we’d eat after the wedding, assuming we’d sit and eat anything. Did people do that after a proxy wedding?
I took the stairs to the top but still didn’t find Lord Briscalar.
A final glance down made me cringe. The dress really looked shitty. As for myself, I didn’t care what anyone else thought about me, but I was representing Weldsbane Court and my brother. My best friend, the High Lady of Lydel.
I refused to think about the monster who’d ruled Bledmire. At least I’d never been forced to call him Father.
As I shoved the door open, I sucked in a breath to fortify myself for the wedding, cringing while hoping I wouldn’t be too much of an embarrassment to my family.
5
LORANT
Whatever softness I’d possessed had been ripped from me the instant I turned seventeen. I’d expected it, though the shock of that moment still reverberated through me years later.
There would be no getting used to the feeling, and I accepted that. What was lost might never be found, and in that, I was no different than anyone else in my family.
But I would not acceptthis.
