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Oh, Father. Don’t. When he’d first taken me to the shrine, I’d hurried beside him, proud of being chosen, impatient to get there. Then he’d tried to leave. I’d clung to his tunic and cried until I could hardly breathe, and he’d held me through all of it. I could still come home, he’d promised. I could always come home. He’d asked for forgiveness then, too. And I’d given it with ease.

But not today.

“Don’t you dare ask, not when you don’t even know what you’re apologising for,” I snapped. “I understand why you need this marriage. But I have to go back and tell the women who raised me I’m leaving them. I can’t absolve you of it.”

Father drew his hand back. The elder with the walking stick leaned forward. “Your service to the Forests will continue, Thalia. We’ve authorised an exception to your vow of celibacy.”

An exception. He made it sound like a favour. I’d kept that promise for years. I’d meant to keep it for the rest of my life, and now he was telling me I could just cast it aside.

“What kind of exception?” I hissed. “What do you expect me to do with a vow I’ve already made?”

“Renounce it before us. Your renunciation will be accepted as your payment to enter the bride market.”

My payment. They wanted me to marry him, and I had to pay for it too. Not with coin, but with my faith. The gall of it stunned me.

The elder sat back, waiting. Did he expect me to do it now, just because he’d laid out the terms?

“Ask me for it,” I spat. “All of you.” Father opened his mouth, but I turned to the others. “You’ve had plenty of time to talk this over. You can each tell me what you expect me to forsake.”

Father pushed himself up from the bench. “Thalia, will you renounce your vow and enter the bride market for Melia? Will you help us make this peace?”

The elder with the stick repeated the request, his chin up as if I’d insulted him. The man beside him echoed it, but the last kept staring at the floor. I waited until he looked up. He finally spoke the words, and they all fell silent. I’d made them face me. Now I had to answer.

I could still leave. The door was right behind me, the path to the shrine just outside. By the time I got back, the women would be getting ready for the evening rites. There’d be a place for me among them. Afterwards I could take off these filthy shoes and eat my supper, and tomorrow I’d wake in my own bed. Let the clans find some other way. Let Father sit here until he thinks of one.

And on my way through Melia, I’d pass the people who’d come to us with everything they owned on their backs. I’d know their faces. I had laid hands on them, cared for them, listened while they told me about the homes they’d left behind. Winter was coming quickly. The Blight was even faster. My people could escape the frost. But the Blight? They could never outrun that.

“I’ll go to the market,” I said.

Father’s shoulders eased. Already. I’d barely agreed, and already he could breathe again. He began to speak, but I stopped him. “Let me finish. Everyone there will hear me choose Eryx. You know why I’m agreeing, and I expect you to remember it. I won’t sit here and pretend this is what I wanted.”

“I know you’d have stayed at the shrine if we’d left you alone,” he murmured. “I won’t forget that.”

I held his gaze a moment longer, then straightened. He had stood beside me when I first took my vow. It seemed laughable that he swore never to forget it, even as he demanded I break it.

“Before you all, I renounce my vow of celibacy. I give it as my payment to enter the bride market.”

The elder bowed his head. “We accept your payment, Thalia. The auctioneer will be informed.”

I just stood there. They’d tell the auctioneer. He’d add my name and find me a place in the row. Years of my life, and now all I’d become was an errand to run.

My eyes burned. I blinked hard, but a tear fell onto my dress, and then another. I scrubbed at my cheeks. I’d made them look at me, and now I wanted every one of them to turn away.

Father came around the table. I stepped back before he could reach me. “Don’t touch me. Never again.”

When I left the elders’ hut, he didn’t stop me. He didn’t say a word. I wanted to feel surprised, but a numbness had already taken hold.

Cold air whipped at my skirt and stung my wet face. Beyond the village roofs, the trees stirred against the grey evening sky. The living current of the Korinos Wilds moved through the roots beneath my feet. I reached for it. There it was, familiar and generous, running through the damp earth, rising into branches still thick with leaves. It was as essential to me as the air I breathed, but today, it brought no comfort at all.

Nessos, chief of the Nephelidai, was waiting where the village path turned toward the woods. The centaur wheeled around at the crunch of my footsteps and approached me, the worn scabbard at his side brushing his dark flank.

“Tell me it’s a rumour, Thalia,” he demanded. “Tell me they haven’t promised you to the gorgon.”

Nessos had been my friend before I went to the shrine. After that, I’d see him when I came home, or when his people attended our rites. He’d been easier to tease before everyone began calling him chief. Even now, I could usually get him to stop looking so important. Any other day, I might have tried.

“Oh, they’ve done more than promise,” I replied, folding my arms against the wind. “The elders said I could renounce my vow. I’ve done it. That’s my payment to enter the market.”

He looked toward the hut. When he started for the village, I stepped in front of him. “Leave Father alone, Nessos. He’s heard enough from me already.”