My mother smiled but shook her head. “Her father will take her.”
I sat silentlyon the wagon’s wooden seat next to my father. The leather reins tapped on our old horse Anglor’s back, and we lurched forward. My father wasn’t much for words except on rare occasions when he’d rant about the ducai only protecting their own and leaving the rest of us peasants outside the wall to die. Or when he got on the subject of our neighbors, who often fought with us over land boundaries. That got him fired up.
“These Nighthaven people leave us like cattle out here. That’s what they think we are, Aesira, make no mistake about it. That’s why they don’t want us inside with them. We’re the feed,” he said. “Don’t ever trust them to care about us out here. This day of‘celebration’ is just so uslowlyhumans feel like it’s an honor to give the ducai our most gifted children.”
I’d heard that talk all my life. His spine was ramrod straight, and his shoulders stiff. Even through his dark, bushy beard, he looked grouchier than usual. “We’ll get this over with and be home before dark,” he grumbled.
I hoped he was right. I feared he wasn’t.
The wheels squealed over the dirt road, and the horse’s hooves beat the ground. In the silence, I fidgeted with my left earring. There was so much I wanted to say about the opportunity to go into Nighthaven, but he hated everything about the people inside, their rules, their opportunities... their safety, and what they thought about us. Even if one of his children were ducai, he wouldn’t want us to join a guild. That would mean we’d have to leave our home to fight in this endless war against the vampires. Once, I’d stumbled upon the stone body of a vampire, a face petrified in an open-mouthed scream with a knife still embedded in its chest. I sometimes wondered what happened to the person who’d wielded that knife. The bodies crumbled and turned to a sand-like substance over time, so it was rare to find one intact.
“You don’t need to be nervous. You’ll get to come home tonight. Just remember what I told you. I won’t have my daughter die for them.” He glanced over, furrowing his thick dark brows. He seemed more nervous than even me, the one about to go through The Rite.
“Don’t show them my speed during the tests.” That wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t want to die for them either.
“Exactly.” He cleared his throat. “Kace came over to talk to me while you were out yesterday.”
I was thankful for the change in subject, but my heart raced. “About what?”
He gave me a knowing look. “As if you don’t know.”
“I don’t,” I said truthfully.
“He asked for my permission to marry you, Aesira.”
I gulped, then coughed on my own saliva. Kace always joked about it, but that’s all it was ever supposed to be. A joke. Playful banter... And yet, I’d imagined marrying him since we first spoke to each other. They were silly girlish fantasies then.
“Really?” So, this morning was more than just talk.
“He’s liked you for years, I don’t know why you’re surprised. Boys don’t hang around the house as much as he does without reason.”
“Well, if he planned to marry me, you think he might have asked me first!” I balked. Well, he did, I suppose, or rather demanded it.Marry me, Aesira. “What did you say?”
He chuckled and scrubbed a hand down his black beard. “I said I would think about it. He’s the chieftain’s son, a fine warrior, and you’d be well taken care of, but doyouwant to marry Kace?”
My cheeks warmed, and I looked out at the blossoming pink trees along the road to the city. It was close to five miles from Neverglade to the city walls. I’d never been this far from my village before. Several wagons ahead of us kicked up dust on the rough, hole-ridden road.
Kace was all I knew, and any girl from our village, even the surrounding ones, would fight to be his wife. I’d always wanted a life with him... And yet somewhere deep down I craved adventure. I wanted more than a simple life in Neverglade, farming, washing, chasing children. Maybe Kace could offer that too. He had connections, and I could make pieces for the king’s wife or the princesses, and not just those who knew me by my first name.
I’d felt the pull ofsomethingfor a while now. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it haunted me. It was but a fuzzy dream, like thecloudy rippling surface of a lake, and I waited for it to calm and become clear.
My sister and I would sometimes whisper about becoming scholars and the opportunity to learn about our world, philosophy, economics, in-depth knowledge of the vampires that hunted us, and to make a difference. But those things were only quiet secrets between me and Kayda, too fantastical to be spoken loudly.
Before I answered, he said, “I also told him he’d have to court you properly for the summer first. You’ve been friends. A romantic relationship is different. He needs to prove he is ready to be a man and a husband, and not the boy who wants attention.”
I smiled and nodded to agree with him. “Courting is a good idea.” I began to wonder what his lips would feel like on mine. I was nervous I wouldn’t do it right. I was nineteen and embarrassed I hadn’t even been kissed yet. Even Kayda had. I’d held out for Kace, and waiting for him had felt like eternity. It was like he was afraid to. I didn’t understand why.
The summer sun shone across the emerald-green landscape of pine and ash trees and tall grass, bees buzzed, butterflies fluttered from poppies to wildflowers, and up ahead the gates to the city were open. Drums beat from inside, and bright colors for The Sorting Rite festival lining the street ahead felt like a celebration just for me. I searched for Kace among the trail of riders heading inside. He’d be on his white horse. But I didn’t see him among the crowds flocking to get into Nighthaven.
Anyone with an initiate hopeful or a family member of a clan leader outside the wall could go in on this one day. King Sigurd, also known as King Bloodaxe, claimed it was a reward for the people of Lothleton. But anyone caught inside the following day who didn’t belong was removed. Really generous, huh?
“If you do decide to marry soon, uh, I don’t know if your mom has talked to you about... ummm, well, children and how they’re made.”
“Dad,” I groaned. “I’mnineteen.”
“Well, I don’t know,” he admitted, pink-cheeked. “Just... don’t let him sweet-talk you until you know for sure you want to marry him. If he breaks your heart, I’ll break his neck.” He would probably at least give him a beating for dishonoring his daughter.
I laughed and lightly punched his shoulder. “He’s been sweet-talking me for years, and I’ve held out this long.”
