“Enough!” He gets to his feet, towering over me. He rubs his forehead with his palms. “Even if we knew for sure she was alive, it would be foolish for anyone to go after her. And to send anyone on this whim of yours . . .” He shakes his head.
“It’s not a whim. It’s—” But I can’t tell him the truth, that the reason I believe so strongly in this isn’t just because of what I feel deep down, but because a dragon told me there was hope. Even just thinking it to myself sounds completely stupid. And if I said it out loud, to my father, he’d probably disown me. “I’ll make you a deal,” I tell him.
That gets his attention. He gives me a curious look. “I didn’t know you were in any position to be bargaining with me.”
“I’ll marry Lord Varrens.” The words scrape my throat, not wanting to come out. “I’ll marry anyone you want—I’ll even move far away, if that’s what it takes. And in return, just send someone after her. Anyone. A group, a scout. Please.”
He presses his fingers together, his lip twisting in a scowl, and sits back down. “You’re telling me you’re going to do what you are already obligated to do, a matter you have no choice in, and all I have to do in return is essentially murder some of the finest paladins of your generation? Brave young men and women who can do what you can’t, who know their duties and serve them well, and who would never even think of suggesting something so insolent?”
“I’ll marry him willingly,” I whisper, ignoring the sting of everything he just said, or at least trying to. “I’ll be the obedient little bride you want me to be. No more snide comments or talking about how much I wish it wasn’t happening.”
He holds out his hands, palms up. Not in surrender, but in a gesture that says he doesn’t know why I’m even saying this. “We all feel the loss of her,” he says quietly. “So that’s why I’m going to forget you said any of this. You’re going to march out of here and go back to your room, where you’ll remain until the wedding. Which will be tomorrow morning.”
“What? But I won’t be seventeen for another week!”
“Lord Varrens is eager to start your new life together.” He looks away as he says it, and I get the impression that this wasn’t Lord Varrens’ idea, but that my father just can’t wait to get rid of me.
“You’re going to make me get married the day after my sister’s funeral?”
“It will be a quiet ceremony, but a joyous occasion.” He says that with so little enthusiasm that it’s obvious not even he believes it. “And you will do as you’re told. You will obey me in this, just as you will obey your husband after you take your vows.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “You can’t mean that.”
“Of course I can. The ceremony will take place tomorrow, right after the dragon’s execution at dawn.”
My blood runs cold. “Execution?”
“It’s his fault Celeste is dead. He must pay for his crimes.”
“And me,” I whisper. “Must I pay for my crimes, too? I know you blame me for Mother’s death, and now Celeste is gone. Is that why you’re pawning me off on someone else so quickly, before I’m even of age? Do you really hate me that much?”
He winces at the word “hate,” but I notice he doesn’t exactly deny it. “This is a matter of duty. Your sister knew her place in paladin society. It’s time you did the same.”
“Celeste wanted to question the prisoner. He has information that could be useful to us. Shouldn’t we keep him alive, at least a little longer?”
“Questioning him is what got her killed.” His voice tightens. His hands clench around the scrap of her cloak. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Virginia, I think you’d better take your leave. You have a wedding to prepare for, after all.”
10
ALL BRIDES LOOK GORGEOUS ON THEIR WEDDING DAY
Torrin’s mother comes to my room later and helps me try on my dress. There wasn’t time to make a new one from scratch, but she’s sewn some beads onto the white one I wore to the party. She’s also covered up the chocolate stain on the front with a bunch of intricate white roses made of ribbon. Father must have had her working on this for days already.
Mrs. Hathaway puts her hands on my shoulders and smiles at me in the full-length mirror she brought with her. “Don’t you look beautiful, my dear? A shame your mother couldn’t see you like this.”
I stare at myself in the mirror. The beads make the dress sparkle. The cut of the neck emphasizes the curve of my shoulders. And the train she’s added to the back makes it look like a real wedding dress. It’s beautiful—anyone could see that—but the girl in the mirror looks so unhappy that I don’t know how anyone could ever associate the word “beautiful” with her. Brides are supposed to be smiling. They’re supposed to look like they’re starting their lives, not ending them.
And I know I’m not really beautiful. My chest isn’t big enough and my waist isn’t small enough and my face is too plain. If I was beautiful, guys would look at me the way they always look at Celeste or Mina or any of the other girls. They would ask me to dance at parties. And maybe their lack of interest has more to do with me not living up to my family name, but still. If I was beautiful, I would know it by now.
“All brides look gorgeous on their wedding day,” Mrs. Hathaway adds, as if she can tell what I must be thinking. “Lord Varrens is very lucky to have you.”
“But I’m not lucky to have him.” The words come out small and bitter. I don’t know how I can go through with this tomorrow. Father’s going to have to stand next to me and move my head up and down when the priest asks if “I do.”Mrs. Hathaway sighs and pulls me to her in a hug. “You’ll make the most of it. It’s what we do. My marriage to Torrin’s father was arranged, you know. I was as nervous as you are, but we made it work, and then we grew to love each other.”
“Mr. Hathaway wasn’t a hundred years old.”
“Well, no, but . . .” She struggles to come up with a bright side to all this. “At least you won’t have to leave the barracks. And he’ll be kind to you. It could be worse.”
I know I’m supposed to be grateful for that, but is it so wrong for me to want more in a husband? It’s great that he’s probably not going to be mean or beat me or anything. He’s just going to force himself on me and make me bear his children—that’s all. “I was supposed to marry someone I love.” My voice shakes, on the verge of tears. I always thought that was what was supposed to happen, anyway. Even if it doesn’t make sense for a dud like me.
“It will be all right.” Mrs. Hathaway pats my back. “You’ll see. And if you have any questions, about your wedding night—”
“I don’t.” It’s going to be awful. I don’t need to go over the details.
She raises her eyebrows. “If you’re sure. I know I was terrified. My mother wouldn’t talk about it, and all I knew was what little information me and the other girls had managed to put together. So if you change your mind, you let me know.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Hathaway. For everything. But I think I’d like to be alone right now.”
“Let me help you out of your dress, and then I’ll let you be.”
I nod, because I don’t trust myself to speak.
“You know, I always thought that someday you and our Torrin would . . . Well, never you mind.” She waves her hands and starts unbuttoning the dress. “Things rarely work out how we thought.”
She can say that again.
It’s almost dawn when I approach Amelrik’s cell—nearly time for his execution.
He’s awake, though his eyes are bloodshot, and I wonder if he’s been up all night, like me. We stare at each other through the barred window. The lines from where I scratched him are still visible, though just barely. His black eye has turned yellow and mostly faded, though the skin near the dragon ring around his neck looks worse than ever.
“You’re still here,” I tell him.
“Sorry to inconvenience you.”
“I mean, you didn’t escape.”
“Not yet. I thought you’d want one last chance to tell me I deserve this.” He laughs. Not like he’s making a joke, but like he knows these are his last moments alive. The laughter turns into a cough, and he winces, but it doesn’t look like he’s in as much pain as he was the other day. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. But there’s no blood on his lips, and I know dragons heal faster than humans, even without access to their magic.
I reach a hand into my pocket, feeling the cold iron of the key I stole. “Do you really believe my sister’s alive?”
“Do you really believe I sent her to her death?”
I scowl at him. I don’t know what to believe anymore. He’s killed hundreds of people—a lot of them paladins—but he saved my life. He could have gotten away, but he saved me, and now he’s going to die because of it. “You wanted Lothar dead—I believe that much. You thought Celeste could kill him for you, so . . .” I shut my eyes, hating what I’m about to say. “No, I don’t think you sent her to her death. Not on purpose.”