by Kiera Cass
Silas reached out, touching my arm. “She’s probably one of the loneliest people I know. The women at court won’t associate with her, there isn’t a man in his right mind who would so much as look at her, and now her parents are gone. I’m sure she’s feeling a lot of things. I don’t much care for her as a queen, but I’m glad she at least had you to talk to.”
All I could think about was the warmth in his touch, the tenderness in his voice. It was getting harder and harder to remember I was here for Valentina.
“I would always be willing to listen to anyone in need of a friend.”
“I know,” he said softly. “It’s something that makes you unique. I have a sense that even those you weren’t sure you could trust could always trust you regardless.”
I nodded. “Which is why I have to go now. I’ve said more than Valentina would have wanted me to. I’m hoping you will do me the kindness of keeping her secrets.”
“I would do anything you ask.”
I bit my lip, choosing my words carefully. “And there are others counting on me. . . . I’m afraid I’d let them all down if I stay much longer.”
His hand was still on my arm. “I wish you would all the same.”
Tears were prickling at the corners of my eyes, and a hard heaviness settled in my throat. “I don’t understand what this feeling is, why it is I can’t bring myself to stay away from you . . . but I have to. There’s so much riding on me marrying Jameson, not just for me, but for you, too. Jameson could choose to send you and your family back to Isolte if you offend him, and if things are as bad as you say, I don’t want to put your lives in danger. Scarlet means too much to me.”
“Just Scarlet?” he asked softly.
I paused. “No. You. You mean too much to me.”
In the little light the stars were granting us, I could see his eyes were glassy. “And anything that could hurt you would pain me. It seems we lose either way.”
I nodded, tears spilling over. “I believe life will give us happiness that we can’t see just yet.” I gestured to the sky. “There are stars now, little glimmers of light. But soon, the sun will come. We need only wait.”
“But you are my sun, Hollis.”
It was different from what Jameson had said about me a dozen times before. He’d said I was the sun, bright but distant, shining on everything in reach. Being Silas’s sun alone made me feel like I had a reason to rise in the first place.
“I promise to keep my distance. I won’t seek you out or speak to you anymore. And I’m sure you won’t need any more jewelry made for emergency royal visits.”
I nodded.
“Good. That will help.” He swallowed. “Before I never speak to you again . . . could I kiss you one more time?”
I didn’t even question the desire. I flew at him.
It was so easy, like falling into the rhythm of a dance or taking a deep breath. Kissing Silas was like something that had always been waiting for me, something I knew to do without thinking. His hands went up into my hair, holding me tight, and his lips moved feverishly, knowing we’d never be alone like this again. I gripped his shirt, pulling him in close, wanting to remember how he always smelled faintly of dying embers.
Too soon, he pulled away, looking into my eyes. “And now I must get back to my family.”
I nodded. “Goodbye, Silas Eastoffe.”
“Goodbye, Hollis Brite.”
He stepped back, falling into a deep bow, and using every last bit of willpower I had in my body, I turned and walked away.
Twenty-One
“HOLLIS,” DELIA GRACE WHISPERED, PULLING me from sleep.
“Mmm?”
“There’s a message for you.” I glanced up to find Delia Grace standing over me, concern flashing across her face. “Goodness, your eyes are red. Have you been crying?”
In an instant, visions of the night before flooded through me.
It had taken hours for exhaustion to silence my head and even longer for it to steady my heart. I had no idea how much sleep I’d gotten, except to say it wasn’t much.
“No,” I said firmly, trying to smile. “I think something must have irritated them last night.”
Delia Grace set herself on the edge of my bed, lifting my chin so she could see them better. I didn’t like her looking so deeply into my eyes; I kept getting the feeling she knew my thoughts better than I did.
“I’m going to soak a towel in cool water, and you’re going to gently press it against your eyes. We can’t have you meeting with the king and queen like this.”
“What?” I asked.
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head, standing to fetch a towel. “That was the message for you: King Jameson demands your presence for a meeting with King Quinten and Queen Valentina this morning.”
“Demands?” I asked, swallowing. Immediately, I thought that someone knew something, but I’d been very careful with Silas, and it was all over now. No, it must be something else.
“I think the black dress today, Delia Grace. The one with the red in the sleeves?”
She nodded. “Very nice. That’s a much more serious look. And I think we have a headdress that will do nicely. You lie down with this,” she said, bringing over the wet cloth. “I will have everything ready in no time.”
I shook my head. “What would I do without you?”
“We’ve already been over this, Hollis. You’d drown.”
I pressed the cloth onto my eyes and managed to get the swelling mostly gone. Once I put myself together, no one would even notice. I had to do little more than stand still while my hair was brushed and my dress was tied on. When it was time to head out, Nora and Delia Grace lined up behind me, my own little army. I had to admit I felt better with them by my side.
People milled about the hallways and the Great Room, and I walked up to the guards by the king’s door without hesitation. “I have been summoned by His Majesty.”
“Yes, my lady,” the guard replied. “He’s expecting you.”
He held the door for me but stopped Delia Grace and Nora before they could follow.
“This is private, ladies,” he said, and I watched helplessly as we were separated by the large wooden door.
I steadied myself with a deep breath as I walked in to find Jameson and King Quinten sitting at a table with papers laid out before them. A few others stood against the wall, holy men and members of the privy council, all poring over books of the law or other notes. The most surprising addition to the party was my parents, who hadn’t spoken to me since my lessons the other day.
I briefly took in their smug expressions before Jameson leaped to his feet to greet me.
“My own heart!” he sang, holding out his arms. “Are you well today?”
“I am.” I hoped he couldn’t feel my trembling hands. “I feel I’ve scarcely gotten to see you these past few days, so merely being in your presence brings me joy.”
It used to be so easy to flatter Jameson, to say the words I knew would cheer him. Now it felt like chewing gravel to get those lines out.
He smiled, caressing my cheek. “You are right; I’ve been very occupied, and I promise to make it up to you once our guests leave. Come, stand by my chair.”
I followed and dutifully took my place. It was difficult to feel comfortable, however, with King Quinten sneaking disapproving glances at me.
“At least yours arrives on time,” he muttered.
Not a second later, the last member of our party, Valentina, dashed into the room. She kept her hand positioned over her stomach.
“My deepest apologies,” she began calmly. “I was . . . indisposed.”
King Quinten seemed satisfied with that and turned his attention back to Jameson. “So you say your wedding will be when?”
Jameson smiled. “I didn’t. There are some details I’m finalizing,” he said, raising his hand to touch mine where it rested on the back of his chair. “But you will be getting news of my plans soon enough.”
Quin
ten nodded at this. “And you’re sure she is from good stock?”
I tried to keep my face steady. I didn’t like being spoken of like a horse—a horse who was clearly in the room, at that.
Jameson straightened in his chair. “Are your eyes failing? All you need do is look at her.”
Unimpressed, Quinten nodded toward my parents. “Didn’t they say she was the only one? What if she is barren? Or only gives you a single child?”
I saw the skin above Jameson’s collar turning a disturbing shade of red. I placed my hand on his shoulder and addressed the king myself.
“Your Majesty, you yourself ought to know that a man with a single child is not diminished in any way. He is merely . . . focused on that single heir.”
Jameson smirked up at me. None of us could call Hadrian a smashing success, but who did this man think he was, coming after children who hadn’t yet been dreamed up when his was knocking on the door of the Reaper?
Quinten’s eyes were cold, obviously displeased. “You were not invited to speak.”
“I value all opinions of the Lady Hollis,” Jameson insisted, though this was contradictory to what he’d told me the other day. “Her joy in life and curious mind are some of her most treasured attributes.”
Quinten rolled his eyes. Valentina had told me to be thankful for what I had, and I tried to appreciate that Jameson at least had the kindness to lie about how important I was.
“Her reply alone ought to be proof enough of her health, not just in mind and spirit, but in body as well.” Jameson spoke with such passion, it was easy to see how I’d fallen for him. I hoped it would be enough to make me do it again. “I trust that Hollis will produce a fine heir for Coroa with a half dozen to spare.”
I looked away, tucking my hair behind my ears. What had been insulting a moment ago was now agonizingly personal. And of all the things to be discussing, why were we talking about my potential for bearing children?
Quinten kept looking me over, measuring me in his mind as if I were for sale. “And your choice is unswayable?” he asked as if he hoped Jameson had another lover hidden in the North Wing somewhere.
Jameson looked up at me, his dark eyes so adoring. Pangs of guilt flooded my heart, because there was a part of me wishing he’d had a lover as well. “My affection for Hollis is fixed and irrevocable. If you want me to sign this, then you need to know her signature will be beside mine.”
The shame came in waves, crashing again and again. He’d put me in the queen’s rooms, and he’d let me wear jewels reserved for royalty, and here he was, ready to put my name on a matter of state.
A holy man raised his hand, and Jameson nodded at him to speak.
“Your Majesty, while you have made your intentions clear as regards Lady Hollis, by law you cannot put her name on the document before you are married.”
Jameson huffed. “This is a ridiculous triviality. She’s as good as my wife.”
My stomach roiled, and I was grateful I hadn’t eaten yet.
You already knew he was going to marry you, I told myself. But still . . . he had never said it like that before. Like there was no way out.
I waited for the voice in my head to tell me I was wrong, that there was a way I could still please my parents, still elevate Delia Grace, still protect the Eastoffes, and still be a faithful subject to Jameson without a ring and a crown. It never came.
“Your ancestors had good intent,” the holy man insisted, “but if we wished to change it, by law we would have to wait for the next meeting of the lords and holy men, and that wouldn’t be until early fall. For now, we must obey the law. For if we undo one . . .”
“We undo them all,” Jameson huffed. It was the same rhyme I’d learned as a child, the reason we studied every little rule passed down, not wanting to break a single one, because it was as good as breaking all of them. “If the law says to wait, then we shall wait.”
“Agreed,” King Quinten added, for the first time adding a hint of reverence to his tone. Isolte was a land of many laws itself, though I didn’t know theirs at all. At least to this, we all consented: the law was the law. “Let it have our names only, so the treaty is set. Once Hadrian is married, he and his wife can sign it, along with you and yours, in an amendment added, say, this time next year.”
Jameson nodded heartily. “Agreed. And seeing as it’s your line this affects most directly, the contract should go with you. We will make the journey to sign it next year.”
I squinted. What arrangement was being made that it involved Prince Hadrian?
“So let us both be in agreement,” Jameson stated firmly, looking directly at King Quinten. “Our eldest daughter will go to the eldest son of Prince Hadrian, but only if we also produce a son to have a direct male heir. But because girls are not passed over in succession in Coroa, if we only have girls, our second-oldest daughter shall be his bride instead. Is that acceptable?”
I felt my knees go weak. He was signing away our children? He was giving them to Isolte? I gripped the back of his chair tightly, trying to keep myself upright.
King Quinten grimaced, as if weighing whether he could make a better bargain, as if him taking my daughter wasn’t enough. Finally, he pushed forward, reaching for the quill.
Valentina and I stood by quietly as the contract was signed, and I realized that, even though my name wasn’t on the paper, it bound me to Quinten, Valentina, and Hadrian as family.
He had our daughter. And so, he’d taken a part of me as well.
Everyone in the room applauded, and as Jameson and Quinten shook hands, I walked over to Valentina, embracing her.
“Did you know?” I whispered.
“No. I would have warned you. I hope you trust me enough to believe that.”
“I do. You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be me.”
She took me by the hand and pulled me toward the wall. “About last night,” she whispered in a rush. “I was very out of sorts. Sometimes when you’re carrying a child, your mind feels strange, and I—”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I do,” she insisted. “I wasn’t speaking clearly, and you mustn’t take any of what I said seriously. Besides,” she said, stroking her stomach, “I was sick this morning. That’s why I was late. That’s a very good sign.”
I put my hands on top of hers. “Congratulations. . . . But are you quite sure you’re safe?”
She nodded, holding my hands. “I am now.”
“Promise me you’ll write. I am going to need so much guidance. Like how to survive my children being used as pawns.” I felt a biting sting at the back of my nose, and I worked hard to suppress it.
“I know. Imagine the pressure I feel. But I will write when I can . . . though you may have to guess at my meanings sometimes. I don’t think my correspondence is entirely private.”
“I understand.”
“Take care of yourself, Hollis. Keep your king smiling, and all will be well.” She reached over and kissed my cheek. “I have to go oversee the packing. And rest,” she added, smiling.
I curtsied. “Your Majesty.”
“You write first,” she insisted quietly, “so I have an excuse to write back.”
And she was on her way out, joining with King Quinten, who gave me a final condemning look before he passed through the door.
Jameson walked over, rubbing his hands together as if he’d just delivered the finishing blow at a tournament, and I gave him what I hoped was a winning smile. “My father never could have done that,” he said with a laugh. “And I’m glad you spoke up when you did. Saved me the trouble of charging at an old man.”
“It would have been no contest there,” I remarked, and Jameson laughed again. I’d once considered a laugh from Jameson something like a prize; now it was so frequent it felt like noise. “I’m curious why he was trying to get an arrangement for Prince Hadrian’s children and not the child I suspect Valentina is carrying.”
“Like they say, no one ca
n guess at that old man’s motives. What else is strange is that he even approached us at all,” Jameson commented, taking my arm to lead me toward the Great Room.
“What do you mean?”
“Most Isoltens prefer to marry their own kind, and their royal line has been completely pure from the onset. If he wants another princess to marry his grandchild, he must have a remarkable reason.”
“Interesting. Valentina told me Hadrian is marrying another royal as well,” I commented, too overwhelmed by my own feelings to really care one way or another. I smiled up at Jameson, trying to hide my sorrow with jokes. “Either way, next time you plan to sign away our children to another kingdom, could I have warning before I walk into the room?”
He scoffed. “Oh, Hollis, they aren’t our children. They’re mine.”
“What?” I forced myself to keep a smile on my face.
“Any children we make are arrows in my quiver, and I will aim them wherever I must for the sake of Coroa.”
He kissed my cheek as the door opened, letting me go into the company of my ladies. Delia Grace could read the horror on my face as we turned to go, but it was Nora who took my hand as we walked. For the sake of appearances, I kept my feelings pushed down, nodding my head at those we passed. And I managed to do just fine until I saw the Eastoffes.
The Northcotts were with them, perhaps saying their goodbyes, and I was thankful to know at least that Etan was leaving the country. But I caught sight of Silas’s blue eyes, and my mind jumped forward, imagining children with those perfect eyes and my olive skin. Those children . . . they would have been mine. . . .
I hurried from the room before anyone could see how violently I was crying.
Twenty-Two
AFTER THE ISOLTEN COURT LEFT, I found it nearly impossible not to look into the eyes of every child I passed, curious about their families, their futures.
Funny enough, it was the boys who always stood a little closer to their parents, either looking apprehensive or standing tall as if they were on guard. Most of the girls did as Delia Grace and I had done: find a friend to hold close, take in the excitement together, and wait to see what adventures life at court brought for you.
