Page 13 of Veil of Night & Flames

Then I frown, because if dignitaries from other realms are here, that means representatives of all the various nightmare breeds are probably here, too. I fight the urge to grimace as I think of Vexarin, the vile creature that would have killed Tia and me if Whistler and Chase hadn’t intervened. Hopefully, I won’t be meeting his cousins tonight.

And then—almost like an afterthought, I notice a half-hidden woman in a dark hood near the back wall, standing off to one side with the awkward posture of someone who stumbled in by accident and can’t figure out how to leave. I can’t see her face, but something about her seems familiar. I’m trying to figure it out when I catch a glimpse of Maren—Kali’s librarian—and her presence is oddly comforting. At least there’s one face I recognize, even if it’s the wrong one.

Someone crosses in front of me, blocking my view. And when they clear out, Maren is still there, but the hooded woman is gone. Must have poofed, actually, because she wasn’t standing near a door.

I frown because now I’m guessing that pretty much anyone in this room can go poof.

Yeah. My life has become very, very strange.

But despite the strangeness of the guests and the whole freaky situation, I can’t help but feel a little giddy. Yes, I know this engagement is the payment for Chase’s life. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m about to live that little girl fantasy and get engaged to a king.

And, yes, I know it’s all transactional, but that same little girl inside me wishes Tia were here. A bride-to-be needs her bestie. More, I wish I had a dad who could give me away.

And oh, how I wish Mom were alive to see this.

Would she be worried? Happy? Would she have some wisdom to finally impart? More than the absolute nothing she told me about our strange family line and my fate as the last Bride?

Why, Mom? Why couldn’t you have mentioned it even once? Left me a folder in a safe deposit box. Something, anything to give me a clue?

I sigh, thinking of the way my imagination had conjured her on the terrace. Or maybe it wasn’t an illusion. Maybe she is here, lost in the crowd of subjects.

Except that, of course, is just a little girl’s wish, and I force myself to still my wandering thoughts as Adric turns to face me.

That’s when I realize that the robed man is no longer speaking in that strange tongue. The hall has gone completely quiet, and even the silver flames seem to be holding their breath.

“Cora.” Adric’s voice carries without effort. “You came to me freely.”

I meet his eyes. “I came to save Chase,” I say, because I’m not going to let this ceremony hang on a lie. “But yes. I came freely.”

Irritation flickers across his face, but it’s mixed with something soft, too.

“And you understand what this betrothal means?”

“It means you’re free,” I say. “Once we’re engaged—I mean betrothed—the emperor’s curse breaks, and you can leave this castle and its grounds for the first time since you broke the Guardian apart.” I tilt my head as I hold his gaze. “That’s all this means.”

I let the rest go unstated. There will be no marriage. No wedding night consummation. Chase told me the prophecy long ago—a prophecy that says the king will find a mate of Imperial blood, and the willing consummation of that union between the king and the Bride will shatter the barriers between realms.

No way in hell am I going to be the reason the barriers fall, releasing a flurry of dark and dangerous creatures to burst out and destroy my home.

We’re facing each other, but we’re both angled so that we can see the courtiers. Now, I sweep my gaze over them, not surprised that none seem to understand what Adric clearly knows—that I’m drawing the no consummation line publicly.

“Of course, my love,” he says in a kingly voice, then adds in a near-whisper, “Then we will have to make good use of the time before we say our wedding vows.”

I scowl. Not because of his words, but because I like that little loophole far too much.

The flicker of his grin suggests that he can read my mind, and for a moment, I grin back. Then my smile fades as he lifts his free hand, and Kali steps forward. I really don’t like that woman.

I know the feeling is mutual, but in public, she’s totally composed. She doesn’t shoot me even a single vile glance. Instead, there’s just her smooth ceremonial deference as she passes a small wooden box to Adric before bowing in a way that’s just deep enough to be respectful.

Adric opens the box to reveal a bed of black silk on which rests a lovely crystal vial on a delicate silver chain. The vial is small—not even one inch long—and it holds a thick liquid that catches the firelight like a liquid ruby.

“Blood,” Adric says, his voice carrying again, firm and regal. “My blood.” He turns to me, his tone softer when he says, “In the Nightmare Realm, betrothal is not sealed with a ring. Instead, the groom offers what runs through him—his strength, his lineage, his life—and the bride’s acceptance seals the betrothal.”

He lifts the chain from the box, his eyes on me. “Cora Lyte. Daughter of the Imperial line. Will you accept my blood as my bond?”

I look at the vial. At his blood, red and real and nothing like a diamond.

I think about every engagement ring I’ve ever seen in a movie—sparkly things in velvet boxes, offered with champagne and sunsets. This is so far from normal that normal needs a telescope to see it.