I remained stiff as a board. “Your generosity knows no bounds.”
The sensation of his hand moving up to cradle my neck made me want to cringe away. That was the hand that had commanded guards to drag my sister to prison. That was likely the hand that had taken Samira’s life. I may not knowthe exact reason he was so eager to rush to the altar, but I could withstand anything if it meant freeing Nadia. One month. I only had to survive for a month, then I would escape and take my sister with me.
A guard poked his head in through the open door. “It’s time,” he informed us. “Are you ready?”
The magistrate was waitingin the parlor, robes pooled around him, his thin, liver-spotted hands trembling as he fumbled with the extensive marriage contract. The candles on the table flickered, throwing long, skeletal shadows across his face, and his lips pinched together as though he’d swallowed something bitter. He was the only one there besides the two guards posted at the door.
“This is a blessed day,” the magistrate said, his voice thin and reedy. His gaze darted to Rahil then quickly away, avoiding looking at me all the while.
Rahil’s hand tightened on mine across the altar as though to anchor me in place. “Say the words, magistrate. No need for ceremony.”
The magistrate cleared his throat and lifted the parchment. His eyes slid toward me at last, and I saw something flicker there, something that sent a chill running up my spine. Was it regret? A silent warning? Perhaps it was both.
“Alia, daughter of the kingdom of Brisden,” he said, his voice faltering, “do you…do you enter this union freely?”
There was a long pause. His words seemed to hang in the still air, heavy and binding. His hand shook as he held the contract out. This couldn’t be the first time he’d spokenthose same words in this very building to yet another woman kneeling across from Rahil.
“She enters this union freely,” Rahil said, his deep voice velvet-smooth.
“I need to hear it from her,” the magistrate said. His eyes bored into mine, silently pleading,Say no. Save yourself.
I set my jaw. “Yes,” I said, my voice confident. “I enter this union freely.”
Rahil smiled through his bushy beard.
The magistrate swallowed, shoulders sagging as though he’d just personally sealed my coffin shut. “Rahil, do you?—”
Rahil didn’t even give him time to finish. “Yes, I enter this union freely.”
The magistrate nodded, causing his tall hat to bobble back and forth, then continued, “Do you have vows to exchange?”
“I do,” Rahil said. “It isn’t every day I get to marry a beautiful woman.”
“And yet this is the sixth time I’ve performed this ceremony for you within ten years,” the magistrate murmured quietly.
“And I’ve paid you handsomely each time,” Rahil responded smoothly, then turned his attention back to me. “To my new bride, I promise you a life without hunger or want as long as you remain by my side. I pledge to give you silks, riches, and every luxury your heart desires. You’ll be the crown jewel of my house, Alia, and I will keep you polished, perfect, and treasured forever.”
Yes, I would be treasured until I lost his interest and was murdered.
He slid an opulent, diamond-studded ring onto my finger, but it failed to catch the light or bring any of the happiness a bride should feel on her wedding day.
Rahil raised his thick eyebrows expectantly. What, did he expect me to pronounce my undying love to him after everything he’d done? Did he think that simply because he was offering to feed and clothe me, I’d fall into his arms? Was I supposed to be grateful that the only price he was willing to accept to free my sister was a forced marriage?
“I appreciate your vows, but I didn’t prepare anything in return,” I said coolly. “Nor do I have a ring for you.”
Rahil’s facial expression didn’t change. “No matter. I don’t need vows or another ring.” He held up his hand, where a heavy gold band encircled his finger and a fat ruby gleamed near his knuckle. “My first wife gave me one that I promised I’d never take off.”
The magistrate’s frail shoulders slumped in defeat. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Rahil leaned across to kiss me, his breath hot against my face, and I barely registered the perfunctory peck on the lips that was more beard than mouth. He then stood and pulled me into his arms while the magistrate muttered a tremulous blessing that neither Rahil nor I paid attention to. No words could bless a marriage that was doomed to end with one of us as a murdered victim. Finally, the magistrate handed over the signed and sealed document.
It was official.
I was married to a monster.
CHAPTER 3
Rahil paid the magistrate and swept me out of the building. I threw one last look over my shoulder as my new husband flagged down a carriage, handed me inside, and gave the driver directions. We trundled past the worship center where Nadia and I had shared so many meals and huddled together for warmth during long winter nights. It had broken my heart to see such sadness in the old minister’s eyes as he told me that he couldn’t in good conscience attend my wedding, not if I was being married to a man like Rahil.
