Haven is barely speaking in an attempt to emulate her sister, but as usual, she can’t resist provoking me by comparing me to the worst person alive.
I am not blind to my father’s ruthlessness. He created a world built on rules so strict it’s stifling, along with a system of government designed to ensure power remained in our family. Everything I am doing is for the public. To make suretheydo not react negatively when I pass new laws. Or amend the Code. But my succession is all but guaranteed.
My father always says that people don’t trust one’s actions but their persona. It was the first time I realized that evil wore a mask. It wasn’t frightening or hideous. Sometimes evil had a pearl-white smile and raven hair. Sometimes evil looked kind and trustworthy.
Malric Vale controlled my entire life. I was relieved when I got my acceptance letter to the Forge. He wanted me to take a spot on the Council, to remain in politics, and not be a soldier. I applied without his knowledge and called him when I was on the chopper. By then, I was too far for him and my mother to sway me.
My palm lies flat on Haven’s back as we make our rounds and greet our guests. From the amount of time she’s shifted in the last half hour, I can tell she doesn’t like my touch. Nor does she appreciate making small talk with the Gifted.
My mouth twitches. We’re both playing a game. Haven doesn’t know that I know that she is impersonating her sister.
“Has your sister spoken about me again?” I ask coyly. “I remember last time you mentioned that I’ve grown on her and she finds me quite endearing?”
Haven clears her throat. “Excuse me?”
“It was just last night,” I say, tilting my head. “Strange that you’ve forgotten.”
“No, no, I remember,” she rushes. “I was drunk. She finds you appalling and disagreeable.”
“You were sober. Not a lick of alcohol in your system,” I say. “Are you sure that you’re well?”
I stare at her with mock concern, enjoying myself for the first time in a long while.
“Perfectly, well,” she says. “Yes, I suppose I did say that.”
“Do you remember what you said after?” he asks. “It was the greatest compliment I ever received. And from your sister no less!”
“Yes,” she says stiffly. “Glad to have shared that. It clearly lifted your spirits.”
“You said that your sister looks up to me and there’s nothing she desires more than to serve me loyally and faithfully,” he says. “You know, I wasn’t aware she admired me so much.”
“Now that I remember, I did drink a glass of wine in the kitchen before dinner,” she says with a tight smile. “It explains why I misspoke. The truth is that my sister would stab you with a pen if it were close enough.”
My lips twitch. She is struggling to maintain her composure. It is amusing to watch her keep up the ruse.
Light flashes, burning my retina, as we head back to the foyer where the reporters are set up. They aren’t allowed in the main room and can only speak to the guests as they enter. I ignored them when we first stepped down, because Haven looked scared, but I need to feed them a few tidbits about us, so the news outlets can sing my praises.
“Mr. Vale!” A reporter calls, loudly and obnoxiously. “Will you take a picture forThe Continentalwith your new bride?”
Haven stiffens. All four reporters have their beady eyes on me, salivating at my mere presence. They never expected to catch me unattended tonight. Perhaps, they had hoped to capture a photo unguarded, but now that I’m here, they are beside themselves.
“Her name is Haven,” I say. “You will address her as Ms. Warrick until the wedding.”
“Our apologies, Ms. Warrick,” he rushes. “Will you allow us to take a photograph?”
Haven nods stiffly. I can tell she doesn’t like this one bit, but she forces a smile on her face. I draw her close to me and stare into the camera, as it flashes a dozen times.
“May I ask a few questions?” a woman calls, thrusting her microphone in my face while the videographer behind her zooms in on us. “How did you meet?”
“Our fathers are acquainted and made the introduction,” I say.
No need to tell them we were both forced to wed. And that my bridehatesme so much that she switched places with her twin sister to escape a life with me.
“Was it a love match or arranged?” she shoots.
“Both,” I answer.
She swoons at my words, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
