Do her feelings ever matter to anyone? Besides her cousin Bertie and the Salt King and Queen, her life consists of everyone else dictating her future. Her father and the other nobles primarily respond with cricket to her initiatives.
“Have they announced your… project yet?” He spits out the word ‘project’ as if she is a child, and these life-changing initiatives are merely trinkets. Samson gestures around where volunteers and staff settle various cats and dogs into pens and cages.
“Does it matter?” She mocks him.
He ignores her disdain. “As my future Queen, I should support your pet proposals.”
She would have thought his well-placed pun humorous if he isn'talways so severe. She is certain Samson has never uttered a joke in his life.
“How do you intend to support me?” She asks as the crowd outside the sanctuary thickens.
“Your Royal Highness,” the new animal sanctuary official pokes her head inside with a smile, “we are ready for you to say a few words.”
Samson lays a hand on her lower back, guiding her outside amidst the throng of citizens. She grits her teeth to keep from swatting him away.
“I am honored to be here beside our beloved Queen,” the animal sanctuary official gushes, “whose gracious donation will mean saving the lives of hundreds of animals across the city of Scarwood. She wants to say a few words.” She claps, stepping aside to allow the eyes to fall on Avina.
She withdraws the parchment bearing the speech she has labored on. Her reading practice before her floor-length mirror fills her with rare confidence.
She smiles at the crowd, pulling her shoulders back and straightening her spine. Her lips part to begin when she is interrupted.
“Is she not wonderful?” Samson calls out to a round of applause from the crowd.
Avina narrows her eyes, turning to him with haughty disdain.
He slips his arm around her waist, tugging her to his side. “A good time to share the great news. I, Duke Samson Manchineel, will marry Queen Avina Bloodstone and accept the mantle as your next King.”
Avina’s heart drops to the floor. She never said ‘yes’ to him! Even her father disapproved of the union. Then again, he wants to stick her with another useless royal without sharing his plans.
Anxiety clutches her chest, squeezing until she can not breathe.
Samson tightens his grip on her waist. The sheer weight of this announcement breaks her to her core. As she looks out among the crowd, rejoicing about her impending marriage instead ofhertriumph for the animals, she feels her life slip away.
Avina is a tool rather than a person to be heard and respected. The anxiety falls away, leaving her numb while Samson continues to addresshercrowd.
She can not even muster a fake smile.
Only thoughts of letting go of this life drift in and out of her mind like a wave on the sea.
Does anyone care that she exists? Who would miss her voice if she were to disappear into the wind?
Two days later, she packs for the Arena. An official letter from the Arena Masters lies on her desk.
Already, her stomach flutters at the prospect of leaving Scarwood. Just as she locks her trunk and summons a footman, she comes face to face with her father. He is still removing his riding gloves and a cloak bearing the Ridge insignia of a jagged crown surrounded by gems billows around his muddy boots.
“Father!” she exclaims, quickly shutting and locking her armoire.
“I was not expecting you.”
“What is this I hear about you marrying Duke Samson Manchineel?” He slaps both gloves in his hand, surveying her with distaste.
She groans aloud and waves him off. “I never agreed to that arrangement with that foul excuse for a man. He cornered me and lied to everyone.”
She clicks the brooch at her throat before whirling on him, her dark traveling cloak spinning at her heels. “Did you travel down to Scarwood from the Sapphire Palace just to question me?”
He uncorks the Timber Province Silver Standard bottle on her desk and pours himself a goblet before collapsing in her high-backed chair.
“I am disappointed that you find yourself in this position. Did you give Samson a reason to think you would be amiable to a marriage?” He gulps with a shudder. “This wine is like licking a sugar block.”
