“Please, no more…” I groaned. I reached for the sconces and tangled my boots into the carpet runners, but they could not hold my phantom form.
Ayla reeled me in with every shaky breath.
With every warm night spent curled into Safiya’s embrace, Ayla found herself wishing more and more that she was not already betrothed to Lady Emilia Terrance.
The noblewoman was perfectly acceptable—kind and smart and daintily pretty. She had all the makings of a queen. But it was nothing more than a political match, and the two of them had hardly managed to strike up a friendship, let alone a romance. Emilia seemed as interested in the betrothal as Ayla, which was to saynot at all, though she had never spoken the words aloud.
Her betrothal was a sinking ship the moment she first felt Safiya’s fingers against her own. The first time their lips brushed, she had nearly cried from the relief of holding someone close and knowing it was right. Emilia could never compare to the feelings Safiya had stirred within her.
They had been courting for months, in secret. It would cause a great scandal if the Acsillan citizens were to discover that Ayla had betrayed her word to Lady Terrance, but she could not bring herself to regret even a single moment of her time with Safiya. Even more so, she felt herself wanting to take steps forward in their relationship.
It was rare for couples to court as long as they had without committing to each other. Betrothals were often arranged in childhood with strict timelines—this being the only thing that had saved Ayla from a loveless marriage thus far—but those who married for love often did so with haste.
To utter Acsillan wedding vows was to bind two souls together under the light and love of the Goddesses. They ensured that the pair would always find each other, in this life and the next, their souls destined to seek each other out time and again.
I came away, pulse rocketing as I settled back into myself. I felt the jarring weight of another mind upon me, lingering still.
Ayla delivered us to the study, the one I had seen her in before. She rapped upon the shuttered door, blinking against the darkness in this corner of the palace.
“Enter,” a man boomed in a resonant baritone.
“Uncle?” Ayla murmured as she slid into the room. The door closed softly behind her, guided by her hand on the ornate iron knob. She hated the way it slammed when left to its own devices. She hated the wayheslammed it, far too often. “I hoped you might have a moment to discuss something with me?”
“Hmm,” the prince grunted. He did not lift his eyes from the letter before him, but his jaw tightened and his fingers clenched around the quill.
“It is only that…” She drew in a shaky breath before forcing the words out. “When I am queen, I wish to marry for love.”
His eyes finally broke from the page as he regarded her carefully.
“My father signed a betrothal agreement, years ago, but I do not love Lady Terrance. I know marrying her would inspire goodwill and strength between the crown and the nobles, yet I cannot help but wonder if I might ask for happiness, too? I fear there is a selfishness within me, to want to put my own heart before the strength of the kingdom, but I only hope to love someone as my father loved my mother, as you loved Princess Ágnes. I crave a love worth fighting for.” Ayla squeezed her eyes shut, nausea churning in her belly. Itechoed in my own stomach, and in the unruly beat of my heart. She was afraid of his reaction, but when she opened them again, she saw only the softness of a man regarding his loved one.
“Of course, Ayla. Consider it done. When you are queen, the betrothal will be broken, and you will be free to choose your partner as you see fit.” The prince reached an ink-stained hand out and patted her own where they lay, pressed flat against the cold wood of his desk.
Ayla let out a shuttering breath, relief flooding her. She threw her arms around him and cried in his embrace. Joy speared through me, as bitter as it was sweet, and my heart fractured just the tiniest bit under the weight of it. It had been so long since I had a family that loved me so. It had been so long since I had thrown my arms around someone and held tight, love and relief rushing in my veins.
I was reminded again that these dreams showed me everything I wanted and everything I could not have.
Chapter seventeen
Seren
Overbright sun shone upon my dark hair, unhindered and boasting. My fingers poked and prodded, twisting around blades of green, green grass. I tugged, wenching them from their roots, earthen clods still attached.
Harkin attempted to rouse me, but I remained steadfast.
“Seren, this does not have to be difficult,” he implored, gazing at me with a kindness I immediately and thoroughly loathed.
“It can only ever be difficult,” I assured him. “These are the cards we have both dealt.”
While my hands worked mindlessly over flowering weeds, my mind whirred with plans for escape. I needed supplies, first and foremost. Enough food and water to get me started. I could hunt and gather once I had traveled far enough to be safe against recapture. I would need the thick cloak Harkin had lent me and my weapons, of course. Everything else I owned had been left behind in Ordelés. But the only things that mattered were my life and my freedom.
“Seren.”
I did not even spare him a glance.
Let him sit in this discomfort, I thought.Let him fail at his task.
It would be far less painful than all I had faced, and far moredeserved.
