The Betrothed

by Kiera Cass

I was sure I failed at hiding my shock that he would care. Or, if not care, ask.

  “The only person I felt comfortable sharing my true heart with is gone. All of my family and most of his have left with him. . . . It’s too much to feel at once, so I’m taking it in pieces. And I think that’s all I could tell you about it.”

  I didn’t trust Etan with the fact that I covered my face with my pillow at night so no one could hear me cry. I couldn’t tell him how much guilt I carried for living when so many didn’t. Though I didn’t consider Isoltens my enemies anymore—well, maybe just their king—I also didn’t consider Etan anything close to a friend.

  “I am sorry,” he said.

  And I wished so badly that I could have believed him.

  “They’re in here,” I answered, showing him into the parlor where Lady Eastoffe and Scarlet waited.

  Lady Eastoffe’s face perked up, and she stood to greet her nephew. “Oh, Etan, you darling boy. Thank you so much for coming. I’ll feel much better on the road now.”

  Scarlet looked up at him, but then let her eyes fall away.

  Etan turned to meet my gaze, and I gave him a shrug that said, “See what I mean?”

  “I am always prepared to serve you, Aunt Whitley. We can leave as soon as you’re ready,” he offered.

  “Let’s spare no time,” she replied. “The sooner we’re back in Isolte, the better.”

  And my crushed heart found new ways to break.

  Etan helped Scarlet down the front steps. Her silence seemed to frighten Etan, who kept looking back to me for assurance. I didn’t know what else to say; she was who she was for now.

  The three of us were a study in how grief changed people. Lady Eastoffe moved on with impressive perseverance, Scarlet folded in on herself, and I . . . well, I was taking each day as it came, afraid to make any plans that took me any farther down the road than that.

  I waited outside the door of the carriage, and she gave me one last embrace.

  “Goodbye, Hollis,” she eked out. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too. When you’re feeling up to it, write me.”

  “Should I send letters here or to the castle?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  She sighed. “Let me know when you do.”

  Etan offered her a hand, and she took it as she climbed up into the coach that would take her away from me.

  “You don’t look convinced,” Etan noted quietly.

  “I’m not. I wish they would stay.”

  “It’s better for them to be with their family.”

  “I am their family; I’m an Eastoffe.”

  He smiled. “It would take a little more than that.”

  I wanted to contradict him, but Lady Eastoffe came down the front steps, the pair of gloves on her hands passed down from my mother’s belongings. I was not going to ruin our last moments with an argument. Etan walked away, mounting his horse, presumably preferring to be on the lookout instead of cooped up in the coach.

  “I checked our rooms,” she assured me, “but there wasn’t much we brought in the first place. We should have everything.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her thoroughness. “There is one thing,” I said, turning to face her. I may have disagreed with everything he was as a person, but Etan had been right about how Jameson viewed me. Maybe he was right about this, too.

  I started to slip her ring off my finger.

  “Oh, Hollis, no! No, I insist.”

  “It belongs in your family. Scarlet should have it,” I urged.

  “No, thank you,” she muttered from the coach.

  Lady Eastoffe dropped her voice. “I don’t think she wants to have anything to do with our legacy anymore. Can you blame her?” I shook my head. “You said you were an Eastoffe,” she reminded me. “This is your ring.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, then, wear it for a while, and if you still think it should be mine, you can come deliver it to me in Isolte. Deal?”

  I smiled at the thought of seeing her again. “Deal.”

  “When do you leave for the castle?” she asked.

  “In a few hours. I’m hoping to arrive early evening, when everyone will be at dinner. The less attention I can draw to myself, the better.” I couldn’t begin to imagine the reception I was in for at Keresken.

  “I want you to know . . . if, for some reason, the king sees you and your feelings are rekindled, there’s no shame in that. I thought, as Silas’s mother, you would trust it if those words came from me.”

  I sighed. “I appreciate the thought, but I’ve known for a long time that I don’t want to be near a crown ever again. And . . . Jameson . . . I don’t know if he ever really loved me. Or if I ever really loved him. My goal is to reinforce how well-suited Delia Grace is for the throne, and then . . . honestly, I don’t have much of a plan after that.”

  “You will adjust.”

  “How will I know?” I whispered. “If something happens to you, how will I know?”

  “I’ve already told the Northcotts to send word. But you needn’t worry. I’m an old woman. King Quinten might have been threatened by my sons, but it’s unlikely he cares about me one way or the other. And Etan will keep us safe on the road.”

  I looked over at him skeptically. “If you insist.”

  We stood there for a moment. There was nothing left but goodbyes, and I wasn’t ready for them.

  She bent down and kissed both of my cheeks. “I love you, Hollis. I miss you already.”

  I nodded, stepping back. “I love you, too.”

  I so badly didn’t want to cry in front of them. I couldn’t bear to be the cause of any more pain.

  “I will write you as soon as I’m able,” she promised.

  I nodded again, knowing I couldn’t trust my voice anymore. She ran her hand down my cheek one last time and climbed into the coach.

  Etan, looking rather impressive upon his horse, came over to me. “I will keep them safe, you know. Whatever your opinions of me or my king or Isolte, you have to believe I would give my life for my family.”

  I nodded. “So would I. But my family gave their lives for me instead.” I inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry. It’s still painful.”

  “It will be. For a long time. But it gets easier.”

  I must have looked rather pathetic indeed for the likes of Etan to show me some level of mercy.

  “Thank you. And I do believe you’ll look after them. I pity anyone who would come up against you,” I vowed.

  He gave me a quick nod of his head. And then they were off, slowly riding out of my world. I briefly wondered what kind of life I would have at all if they weren’t with me.

  I watched them until they were at the end of our drive, and once they turned, I stayed outside until the coach disappeared over the crest of the low hill. And then I stood a little bit longer because I could not walk into that huge house all by myself.

  It must have been quite a while, because when the steward came up beside me, I noticed my cheeks felt a little burned from the sun.

  “Mistress Brite?”

  “It’s Eastoffe,” I corrected him.

  “Yes, very sorry, mistress. Old habits, you see. We need to know which trunks to load?” I took a deep breath and went inside. But I couldn’t make it past the foyer.

  There may as well have been a wall between me and the rest of the manor for how hard it felt to walk inside. My breathing was a little shallow, and I could tell that if I didn’t get ahold of it, I might faint. I clutched the big circular table and inhaled deeply.

  “I . . . There are two trunks by my bed. Anything I’ve forgotten I’m sure will be provided at the castle,” I instructed, and that was enough to buy me more time.

  He bowed and went upstairs to fetch my bags. I took a seat on the bench near the window, intending to watch the world outside Varinger Hall until it was time to leave. A funny sensation tickled at my chest, and I scratched at it, trying to get it to l
eave me alone. Then a cascade of feelings washed over me. I was frightened to move forward but knew I couldn’t stay still. I was uncertain of the company I was about to keep but knew I couldn’t stay alone. I never quite got to the end of one thought before a new one rushed over it, sending me down another stream of questions I wasn’t prepared to ask myself.

  The slant of the sun in the sky shifted as time passed, and I felt that funny tickle in my chest again. But no. It wasn’t an itch or a tickle or anything of the sort. It was like . . . like a string tugging on my heart.

  My breath sped up as I focused on the sensation, wanting to make absolutely sure. Yes. Yes, it was the same. And, whatever might befall me, I had to follow it.

  I looked out at the sun just as it began to rest on the tips of the distant trees. I didn’t have much time.

  I ran up to my room, grabbing leather bags from my armoire; Madge wouldn’t be able to carry any trunks. I folded up three of my simpler dresses and fit them in a bag with a brush and some perfume. In another, I went over to the trunk Jameson had sent me and started shoveling in coins.

  “Hester!” I called. “Hester, I need paper!”

  I switched out my shoes for riding boots, shoving the little ones in my other bag. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

  Hester hobbled in, hands holding out paper and ink.

  “Thank you.” I snatched it. “Listen, Hester. I know everyone is already planning to tend the house, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone now. I’ll write as soon as I’m able.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “And this box?” I said, pushing it over to her. “Hide it. I need it safe.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  I wrote frantically.

  King Jameson,

  By the time you read this, I will be in Isolte. I pray you will forgive me for once again not being there for you when I said I would. I’m hoping from the depths of my heart to be able to come and bless your marriage to any woman you choose one day. But I cannot come to the castle yet. Like many things in my life, it’s harder than I was prepared for.

  I wish you to be the happiest of any king on all of the continent, and I hope my path will bring me to you again sometime. Until then, I remain your most humble servant.

  Hollis

  I folded it up hastily and placed it in Hester’s waiting hand. “To the castle. As quickly as you can, please.”

  “Yes, mistress. And please,” she added kindly, “please stay safe.”

  I nodded, grabbing my cloak and heading for the stables.

  I checked stall after stall until I found Madge. “There you are, girl!”

  I strapped on a saddle as quickly as I could, realizing just how fast the daylight was burning. Once I’d finished, I flung the bags across her back and hoisted myself atop her.

  She was my girl through and through, sensing my urgency and moving at top speed. I had an idea of the general direction they were heading, but I didn’t know the roads that led to Isolte. I blew a kiss when I passed near Silas’s grave and prayed that if I stayed on this course, I’d find them.

  The roads were very empty today, and painfully dry. I could feel the dirt coating my skin as I barreled down the countryside, hunting for a carriage.

  “Come on, girl!” I encouraged her, coaxing Madge into chasing the sun toward the west.

  I was starting to think I’d gotten myself in too deep this time. I didn’t know my way, night was coming, and I was all alone. Eyes squinting, I searched the horizon at every turn, hoping I’d find . . . a blue coach and a tall, thin rider moving beside it!

  “Wait!” I yelled, riding maniacally toward the coach in the distance. “Wait, I’m coming, too!”

  They didn’t hear, so I kept calling out. It was Etan who noticed me first, motioning to the driver to stop. Scarlet popped her tired head out of the window to see what the fuss was about, and her mother followed shortly after.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” Lady Eastoffe demanded. “You look a state. Are you all right?”

  “No. I am not.” I exhaustedly dismounted and walked over to them, my muscles screaming in pain. “I am not all right with any of this. I cannot go back to that life, and I cannot let you leave without me.”

  Lady Eastoffe tilted her head. “We’ve been over this.”

  “No. You’ve been over it, but I will not be left without a hand in making the choices of my own life. I am now the mistress of Varinger Hall, and I am your daughter. . . . You must let me speak my piece.”

  She opened the door, climbing down to stand beside me.

  “Very well.”

  I took deep gulps of air, dirty and exhausted and not really sure how to say what I wanted to.

  “I’m an Eastoffe. And I still wear his ring, and yours. You are my family,” I said simply. “As such, I refuse to leave you. If you are heading into danger, then . . . then I can’t let you go without me.”

  “This is nonsense,” Etan protested.

  “Oh, go back to ignoring me!”

  “Can’t you go back to hating us?” he shot back.

  “I don’t hate you,” I said, staring into Lady Eastoffe’s eyes. “Well, maybe you,” I offered to Etan. “But not all that much.”

  “Oh. Thank you so much for that.”

  “Etan,” Lady Eastoffe said firmly, rolling her eyes. It was enough to silence him, and she turned her attentions to me. “Do you really want to leave your people? Your home?” she asked quietly. “We’ve done it ourselves, and I assure you, it’s much harder than you think.”

  “I want to honor you. To honor Silas. To live a life, long or short, that is more than the pettiness of court or the isolation of my home.” I wrung my hands, pleading, trying not to cry. “I don’t want to harm King Quinten, if you can believe that. Too much blood has been spilled, and I don’t want to cause any more. But I want answers. I want to find a way to make it undeniable. I want that man to look into my eyes and own that he killed my husband, to tell me why.”

  “Hollis . . .” she began gently, her conviction seeming to waver.

  “I cannot go back,” I vowed. “And if you won’t let me in your carriage, then I’ll be forced to follow you on this rather impressive horse. I’m afraid you’ll find me quite persistent.”

  She looked over at Scarlet, who, for the first time in weeks, smiled.

  “It seems you are decided.”

  “I am.”

  “Then into the carriage with you. Sir, could you tie this horse to the back? I’m sure Lady Hollis will want her with us.”

  “You cannot let her in that carriage!” Etan insisted. “She can’t come with us.”

  “I don’t take orders from you, sir. I’m following my family. And as we know, nothing is more honorable than to give your life to your family.” I gave him a determined stare, and he sighed, trotting to the front of the carriage while Madge was tied up to the back. I removed her bags to pull inside with me, and only calmed once we were moving.

  “That’s not very much,” Scarlet pointed out.

  “Only half of it’s clothes,” I informed her, pulling out a handful of gold.

  “Is that your money from the king?” Lady Eastoffe asked quietly, as if anyone would hear over the wheels.

  “Not all of it. But I figured we might need some. For basic needs. Or bribes. Or to renovate Varinger Hall if I’m forced to go back.”

  She laughed. “Silas always liked that about you. Your determination. But let me remind you, this won’t be easy. I have no certainty of what’s waiting for us in Isolte.”

  I took in the solemn looks on her and Scarlet’s faces, and I watched the rigid figure of Etan outside the window. I knew I was walking into the unknown, possibly even death. But the tugging feeling in my heart was calmed, so I knew it was better to walk into that than back into everything I already knew.

  “Don’t worry, Mother,” I assured her. “I’m not afraid.”

  Acknowledgments

  Hey there, gor
geous. Thanks for reading my book. I like you.

  Fun fact: I didn’t put this all together on my own. So if you enjoyed it (and, quite honestly, even if you didn’t), please take a moment with me to thank the people who put their time and energy into this project:

  My wonderful agent, Elana Parker, who has always had my back. Which is impressive considering how much hand holding I need. Also, the whole team at Laura Dail Lit, including the lovely Samantha Fabien, my international agent, who makes it possible to share my stories across the globe.

  My supertalented editor, Erica Sussman, who shines my words until they sparkle, and Elizabeth Lynch, who’s worked beside her to make this book so pretty.

  Speaking of how pretty it is, there’s Gus Marx who shot the cover photo, and Alison Donalty and Erin Fitzsimmons, who designed it.

  The gang at HarperTeen: Aubrey Churchward, Sabrina Abballe, Shannon Cox, Tyler Breitfeller, Ebony LaDelle, Jane Lee and countless others who perfect and promote my ideas. Seriously, this little section could go on for days.

  It takes armies to make books, and I’m so thankful to everyone who has put their hands on it.

  Northstar Church, who has given me constant support and prayer. Specifically, my small group: Erica, Jennie, Rachel, and Karen, who listen to everything on a weekly basis (without getting bored!) and keep me encouraged.

  My parents, Bettie and Gerry, and my mom-and dad-in law, Jennie and Jim. They genuinely think I can do anything, which is what parents do, I know, but it seems like they just do it really, really well.

  My hubby, Callaway. He’s the best. You’re all jealous of me, and you have no idea.

  My Guyden, who has inherited my gift of giving good hugs and offers them to me often. Which is great, because I need them.

  My Zuzu, who is the world’s best cheerleader and makes it impossible for me to doubt anything for more than, like, fifteen minutes.

  Finally, but most important, I want to give my unending thanks to God. Writing was handed to me as a rope when I was drowning. To this day, the amazing generosity of Christ my savior has continued to floor me. The opportunity to tell stories for a living is still absolutely astonishing to me . . . and that’s only a fraction of the goodness I’ve received.