I guess I have some pride left after all.
Without looking to Jaaliah or any of the other fae who will witness my sacrifice tonight, I raise my chin and pull my shoulders back.
“Lead the way,” I say to Rinthiah.
Somehow, I manage to keep my voice from cracking and the tears out of my eyes.
I follow her back into the castle. Back into the king’s chamber, where she dresses me in the wedding gown I arrived in. Only now, there are two strips of taarhorn cloth sewn into the sides to widen the corseted waist, and the skirt has been hemmed to just above my feet.
We remain silent. Neither of us dares to speak. But just as she begins to paint my face with what feels like a series of specific black markings, there’s a commotion at the door.
Without warning, Yilara bursts in—alongside Veyrion’s father, who didn’t introduce himself or even bother to look at me last night. A miserable-looking Brelliard trails behind them.
“Hello?” I say, frowning. “Are you looking for Veyrion? Because he’s not here.”
“Howdareyou call the king by his given name!” Yilara screeches.
“Okay, so I guess we’re doing this again.” I heave out a sigh. “Yilara, how many times do I have to tell you? The whole slaughtering-me-at-moonsrise situation means I don’t care who any of you are.”
Her eyes flare bright, but before she can respond, Veyrion’s father steps forward.
“That is exactly what we’ve come to confront you about.” His voice is low, dangerous. “I have been trying to reconcile why my son is so enamored with you. Why your looks and behavior bear no resemblance to the Aralyssean princesses who’ve come before. And now, the answer is obvious.”
“I am sorry, Sallie Rose,” Brelliard brays from behind him. “I thought it would help. I thought it would save you from the sacrificial altar...”
“Thoughtwhatwould help?” I ask, heart starting to pound. “What’s obvious?”
“That you arenota princess at all,” Yilara hisses, her fangs flashing in a righteous sneer.
But it’s Veyrion’s father who seals my fate. His expression is colder than hers, and even worse, triumphant.
He holds up a crumpled piece of parchment.
The letter.
The one Seraphyne left behind in my trunk.
The one I’d all but forgotten since choosing to take her place to save my kingdom from being razed.
“Care to explain this,” the former king asks, “before I have you slaughtered for treason?”
My stomach drops.
I’ve been found out.
And that means Aralysse will be destroyed…
right along with me.
Return
VEYRION
That eve,slightly before moonsrise, I return from my mission to a castle in chaos.
As I set down, I find my Ironwing Commander and the rest of the horde wearing intricate crowns of flowers. And instead of running drills, Skorrin appears to be on the receiving end of a bitter tirade from a group of nobles.
The nobles stand with their sides to me, facing down Skorrin, who has the flower-crowned horde at his back.
