Trina and Gabe exchanged a glance. That was all I needed to know. I marched away, ignoring their calls for me to stop.
I’d come up with a plan of my own.
By the end of this evening, I’d be married, a thought that had sent flutters through my belly at least a hundred times in the last hour. Could anything be more absurd?
I didn’t feel old enough to become someone’s wife, and especially not to take on the role of future queen of Reddengrad, Sir Basil’s country to the south of Antora. It was difficult to imagine committing my life to someone I barely knew.
“My lady, you are late. I warned you not to go to the market.” Although she was new to my service, my handmaiden, Imri Stout, seemed to be tired of me already. That was little surprise. Imri was originally from our neighboring country of Brill. Brillians considered themselves superior to all other people in the western realm, so I was sure it was incomprehensible to her to find herself subject to the Dominion.
I sat up straight while Imri prepared my hair, setting it in curls and ribbons and with tiny flowers to dot the dark tresses as they fell down my back. Then I stood with my arms held out as my ladies dressed me in a silver wedding gown. It was slightly off the shoulder with long sleeves that hung low, tight in the bodice, and it shimmered when I twirled in circles.
“It’s about time you showed your excitement, my lady,” Imri scolded. Even as a compliment, she still seemed displeased with me.
I smiled back at her. “Who wouldn’t be excited for tonight?”
I wouldn’t be. At best, the idea of marriage terrified me. My father had assured me that Basil would be the finest of husbands, but I knew I’d be a disappointing wife. I was here because those were the orders of my king, and nothing more.
“You will have to become more serious, now that you will be the princess of Reddengrad,” Imri said. “A princess cannot laugh away the affairs of the country.”
“Perhaps not.” I smiled up at her. “But if I do not laugh, how else will I stay awake as the affairs are discussed?”
It wasn’t that at all. My laughter was a disguise, a distraction from injuries I’d sustained during a fall from a castle window a few days ago. If Lord Endrick had not intervened, I’d have lost my life. But the fall had still left me with gaps in my memories, some of them more significant than I’d ever admit aloud. If anyone knew that a daughter of the Dominion was damaged, they might wonder if the Dominion itself was flawed.
“Is there nothing in life that you take seriously?” Imri asked with a sigh.
I tossed back my head and giggled. “What is life but a series of jokes? We either laugh with them or become the object of them.”
We were interrupted by a messenger at the door who informed us that Lord Endrick had come to bid his congratulations and everyone else was to leave.
Imri’s eyes flashed with something that briefly resembled alarm, which was ridiculous considering that the king honored us with his presence. My room emptied out in a panicked flurry, but I sank to my knees in humility.
“Remain as you are,” Endrick said as he entered. An unexpected flash of fear rushed through me, and I privately scolded myself for such disloyalty. Lord Endrick had always been uncommonly kind to me. He wore the mask he often donned in public appearances, though I wished he wouldn’t have found that necessary. Perhaps the burden of ruling Antora had lined and grayed his face, but if the people saw him as he really was, they would know how much he’d sacrificed on our behalf.
“You intend to marry tonight?” he asked.
“Yes, my Lord. As my father arranged and as you command.”
“That pleases me.”
I felt his hands on my neck and realized he was fastening a necklace there. When he finished, I lifted my head and saw a silver pendant with a stone that looked like a gray pearl, with deep lines etched into it. The pendant was heavier than it appeared and sent a strange tremor through me, though it quickly passed.
“This is my wedding gift to you,” Endrick said. “As your king, I ask you to never take this off.”
Never was a long time, but I dipped my head in respect. “Will you be at the wedding, my Lord?”
“I’m afraid not. I need to rest and recover my strength in the Blue Caves. It’s been a difficult week.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope the person who caused your difficulties was properly reprimanded.”
A beat passed before he said, “They were, I assure you.”
He kissed the top of my head, then departed, and within minutes, my ladies returned to escort me to a pre-wedding celebration here at Woodcourt. Every Dallisor within Antora was required to attend, and any Loyalist hoping to gain more power in the Dominion would squeeze in at the back of the room and be grateful for it. My stomach was already in knots.
I waited outside the ballroom door until I heard the herald announce, “Loyalists of the Dominion, Sir Henry Dallisor wishes to thank each of you for attending this celebration of his beloved daughter’s wedding.”
Unexpectedly, my hands began to tremble, but I tucked them into the folds of my dress, hoping no one would notice. Surely this was excitement, the anticipation of seeing my beloved what’s-his-name … Basil. Did all brides feel this way? Terror-stricken?
Yes, that must be how they all felt.