It’s Zev and me. On our wedding day.
I vaguely remember this moment. We’d turned to face the crowd, ready to walk back down the aisle together. The painter perfectly captured the dark hair curling around my shoulders,the deep blue of my eyes, the detailing on my gown. I’m facing the viewer.
But Zev? He’s looking at me. His hand clasps mine, about to guide me down the petal-adorned aisle, his lips tilted up slightly. It was the moment right after he kissed me.
Something sharp and desperate pulls at my heart.
Varad says nothing, just watches me closely as I study the painting.
“It’s—it’s lovely.”
Varad only hums, then waves at me to follow as he exits the gallery.
Our little field trip isn’t over, apparently.
We arrive at the throne room. I haven’t set foot here since the first day I arrived in Arbinj. Since Varad chose Zev for me instead of Faramir and sealed my fate.
The last time I stood in this room, I was a bargaining chip.
Now, I’m something else.
I just haven’t decided what yet.
“Sit on the throne.”
“I—what?” Of all the things I thought he might say, it certainly wasn’t that.
“Sit.”
Is this a trap? Some kind of test?
My palms grow damp, but I climb the dais, hesitating for only a second before I perch on the throne, straight-backed and sure.
Like a queen.
Varad’s cool gaze rakes over me, green eyes narrowed, before he hums in satisfaction. With a wave of his hand, he gestures for me to follow as he heads out of the room.Again. I scramble off the dais. The hallways blur past me, but my skin prickles with icy dread. Where is he taking me? My instincts are screaming, but I don’t know at what.
He takes me to the gardens next, where I was wedded to his son. Sunlight dapples the grass, and the cool breeze rustles the golden leaves. Varad takes a seat on a nearby stone bench.
I join him, my body as stiff as the cold stone beneath me.
The silence between us stretches for minutes, tense and heavy.
What does he want? So far, I’d been successful in avoiding him, but I hadn’t counted on Varad seeking me himself.
“Mayah,” he says slowly, as if testing my name on his lips. “Queen Mayah of Arbinj.”
Have the Tides ravaged his mind?
Varad sighs deeply. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, his voice quiet. “I didn’t think you’d marry my son. It ruined my plans when you did.”
I bristle. Why is he telling me this?
“You wanted to keep me hostage. Or kill me.”
His lips twist. “A hostage, yes. I wouldn’t have killed you. I’d have lost my leverage.”
I scoff, violent anger roiling inside me. “What was your plan?”
