Imprigas were rare. Ethan had chalked it up to a random genetic mutation, whatever that meant, and there was no guarantee that it would pass along.
Then there was the problem of the prince. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even know him. Yet they expected her to go through with the wedding?
But what else could she do? Go back to the Order?
Eyes burning, she rested her head on her knees and choked back a sob. She had foolishly allowed herself to hope that she was finally free of the Order. But rather than gain her freedom, she had merely traded one prison for another. No matter what she did, her future would always be shaped by the desires of others.
Footsteps sounded through the hallway, and she held her breath, hoping the person wouldn’t see her. Tomorrow, they would announce the betrothal. She would be expected to wear a tortuous dress, and smile at strangers as if she were the happiest girl in the world. But for now, she needed time alone to mourn the loss of her life as she knew it.
“Mara?”
No, why did it have to be Ethan? She pushed back farther, but her boot slipped, making a scraping sound across the floor.
The footsteps grew closer, and Ethan rounded the corner. Pity radiated from his eyes and it took every bit of self-control to not scream.
“I just heard the news. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, now go away.” She turned her head, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears streaking down her face. She wasn’t quick enough.
“Do you usually cry when you’re fine?” When she didn’t respond, he walked over and leaned against the wall, sliding down until he sat next to her. “It must feel overwhelming.”
“Overwhelming,” Mara said slowly, rolling the word on her tongue like she was tasting stewed cabbage for the first time. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “What does it matter how I feel? It’s not like I can get out of it. Not unless I cornered Alex and told him to take my Gift. Then I’d be worthless to both the emperor and Cadmus.”
Ethan grimaced. “I wouldn’t recommend asking him to do that.”
“I won’t. I don’t have that kind of courage.” She shuddered, thinking of Tahlia and how she had screamed as her Gift was ripped away. No matter the circumstances, Mara couldn’t imagine going through that willingly. She sighed. “If my parents were here, they’d tell me I’m overreacting. It’s what I would have gone through in Stonehollow, had I been Gifted. Arranged marriages are expected…”
“I’m sensing a but in there.”
“I always wanted to have a family of my own, but I never had the option as a dreg. Because of our laws, I would have died old and alone, assuming I wasn’t killed beforehand or I went crazy from not having my Gift. Now that I can marry, well…”
He waited quietly, prompting her with a small nod.
“I guess I thought I would have had a choice. Maybe even have a chance to fall in love. That sounds ungrateful, doesn’t it? I mean, what girl on the continent wouldn’t jump at the chance to be empress one day?”
“The girl who is tired of chains.”
Mara blinked up at him in surprise.
“You want someone to value you for who you are rather than how they can use you.”
Somehow, he had managed to sum up exactly how she felt. She scrunched up her nose and squinted at him. “Are you sure you can’t read minds?”
“I wish I could. It would help me make so much more sense of what’s going on in your brain.” He tapped the side of her head. She couldn’t help but laugh. Mara leaned her head on his shoulder and he tugged on the end of her hair. “Don’t worry, Mara. We’ll figure this out.”
She only hoped he was right.
24
Mara fidgeted with the hem on her too-tight bodice as Tamil braided her hair the way Mary had instructed him. She glared in the mirror at the group of people gathered behind her. Since finding out about her sudden engagement, her friends had reacted with varying stages of disbelief, which would have been insulting, had Mara not been in shock herself. She still expected to wake up and discover it was all just a dream.
And now, they waited inside her room, watching her like they expected her to explode at any moment. Well, all of them except Wynn, who sprawled out on Mara’s bed, stuffing her face with a tray of pastries from the kitchens. Mikkal and Alex stood to the side, arms folded, mirroring each other’s stance. And Ethan . . .
She’d never seen him look so defeated. He leaned against the far wall, running a hand over the flowers her fiancé had sent as though he wanted to crush them. Dark circles marred the skin beneath his eyes. His gaze met hers in the mirror and she blushed. Did they really have to be here? She shifted in her seat and mumbled, “I don’t need an audience to get ready for breakfast.”
Wynn licked crumbs off her fingers before reaching for another tart. “I don’t know, love, this is pretty entertaining.”
Wynn had shown up at the palace doors the previous night, much to the chagrin of the palace guards. While they had confiscated enough knives to stock an armory, Mara was sure that they had missed even more. Still, she was grateful that her friend had chosen to move into the palace. Mikkal had decided to come along as well. Mara only wished that Steel could have joined them.
Mara glanced at the two guards who stood just inside the door. One covered a yawn with his hand. They didn’t seem entertained. “Aren’t there more exciting things for you two to be doing right now?”
The one guard cleared his throat. “Forgive us, but we’re here to protect the emperor’s investment.”
“That sounds like a fancy way of saying ya want to make sure she doesn’t run away.”
Mara wanted to feel offended, but she’d given it serious thought as she’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Midnight had passed before Wynn had pressed a dagger to her throat, threatening to kill her if she didn’t calm down and stop hogging the blankets. Her body might have stilled at the warning, but her mind wouldn’t stop spewing questions.
Could she run away if she wanted to, or would the emperor hunt her down? And if escape were possible, what was keeping her here? How could she get out of this betrothal?
“Out the lot of you!” Mary bustled out of the powder room, flicking a towel at the guards and clucking her tongue. “You’re making her nervous, poor thing. I’ve never seen such atrocious behavior, not giving the lady a moment’s peace as she’s dressing. For shame! Mark my words, the emperor will be hearing of this. Now shoo. Shoo!”
The guards muttered under their breath that they would wait outside before stepping into the hallway. Mara looked at her lady’s maid in shock. In the span of a minute, she’d managed to intimidate the guards into giving them some privacy. Now that was a useful skill to have.
Mary’s eyes narrowed on Wynn.
“Don’t look at me. I’m just here for the food,” Wynn said, motioning to the near-empty tray. “And to make sure Mara’s Guardian friend stays in line.”
“Me? What did I do?” Alex asked, dropping his arms to his side.
“It’s not so much what ya have done, but what ya could do that’s the problem. Maybe ye’re just buttering her up, waiting for her to let her guard down.”
“You’re one to talk. I’m not the one with the knife fetish. Just who is the bigger threat here?”
Mara started to laugh, but with the corset constricting her ribs, it sounded more like a pained rasp. She tugged the skirt that billowed out from her hips. How did women wear these all the time? It was borderline torture! Wynn jumped off the bed and sauntered over, looking completely at ease in a sunflower yellow gown that was almost identical to hers, save for the color. Mara burned with jealousy. “How can you stand it? I feel ridiculous!”
“Ya look ridiculous, too. Orange is not yer color.” Wynn twirled in a circle and squealed, “I love dresses! Do ya know how many knives I can hide under this skirt?”
Ethan ran a palm down his face and let out a hopeless chuckle. “Are you expecting to stab someone at breakfast?”
“Hey, ya never know. Best to be prepared if ya ask me. Besides, I like the way it swishes when I walk,” she added with a wink.
“Your scarred friend is wise,” Tamil added, slipping a flower into Mara’s hair. “It’s best to be prepared for any event.”
Great, in theory, but how was she supposed to prepare for an engagement she didn’t want? Mara stood and turned to face her friends. The emperor was about to announce her betrothal to his son, Prince Isaac, at breakfast. She’d rather face the Order alone than go through with it. Maybe she should have run when she had the chance, no matter the consequences.
Ethan held out his arm. Mara’s feet were leaden blocks as she walked toward him. She couldn’t read the emotion simmering below the surface of his face.
How she wished Ella had been right—that the emperor only wanted her presence to strengthen his position. Instead, she was being given to his son so their offspring could strengthen his bloodline. Every bone in her body rebelled against the notion. Didn’t she deserve a chance to fall in love?
Her eyes met Ethan’s, and for a moment, she was lost in their dark depths. He dipped his chin in a nod and led her down the hallway while Wynn and Tamil followed close behind. Mara’s guards fell into step beside them, their heads swiveling to the side as though they expected an ambush.
“Are you all right?” Ethan asked her.
“Me? Of course I’m fine.” Her voice carried a hysterical edge. “I get betrothed to a prince every weekend!”
Ethan frowned at her. “You don’t have to pretend that you’re okay. It’s normal to feel upset, or angry, or scared. I’d be more worried if you didn’t.”
“I know,” she whispered, her fingers digging into the fabric of his robes. “Do you want to know what’s funny?”
He tilted his head down.
“Growing up as a dreg, I thought that having a Gift would solve all of my problems. If I had been born an Irrigo, or a Cultor, or even a Farber like my father . . . I would have led a normal life. The townspeople would have accepted me as one of their own. I would have fallen in love like a normal girl, and if the elders approved of the match, I would have married him. Built a home. Had a family of my own. And it would have felt right.” She trailed off, looking into the distance without focusing on anything.
“I know what you mean.”
Mara looked up at Ethan in surprise. “Do you?”
“As a Magi of the Order, the priority has been to pass our seed onto the next generation and continue our line. Disciples are free to marry whomever they wish, but a Magi? We’re expected to breed as many children as possible in the hopes of spawning another Magi, but romantic attachments are forbidden. It’s not uncommon for a Magi to sire dozens of children over the course of his lifetime. Did you know that Tovaline and I are Cadmus’s only surviving children out of ten?”
“What happened to the rest of them?”
“Five died in the womb, just when they began to quicken. Cadmus believed that the mothers were too weak to carry his children. The other three . . .” Ethan swallowed and turned away. Mara gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Two were taken by illness when they were infants. The Healers could have saved them, but Cadmus didn’t want to waste valuable resources raising weak children.”
“And the last one?”
“He made it look like an accident, but we all knew the truth.” His lip curled. “There’s only one fate for a Seer at Order Headquarters.”
Mara gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. “That’s awful.”
“That’s life, unless somebody is willing to change.”
The guards opened the doors to the dining hall. Every head in the room turned to stare at her. Mara’s breath hitched. Ethan squeezed her arm and pulled her forward into the room. Was it hot in here? Yes, it was definitely stifling. Someone should open a window or pay someone to fan the room at the very least. She forced herself to stand still even as every muscle in her body tensed to run.
Emperor Edgard waited behind his raised table, his arms stretched open as if to welcome her. Prince Isaac stood by his side with a knowing smirk, as though he were waiting for her to swoon into his waiting arms. Mara made a conscious effort not to roll her eyes at the thought. How could they possibly expect her to marry him? She’d only spoken to him once, but it was enough to make her stomach curdle. She’d rather marry a badger.
Ethan released her, giving her an encouraging nod. She took a deep breath and walked the rest of the way on her own, taking her place by the prince’s side. Isaac reached down and took her hand in his. She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t embarrass him like that in front of the crowd. No sense in testing the emperor’s generosity.
The emperor raised his hands and the room silenced. “It’s not every day that we can announce a royal wedding, and the union between a Saxum and an Impriga is especially rare. It is my deepest hope that their marriage will strengthen our country, and serve as a reminder that anyone, regardless of circumstance, can rise to greatness.”
The room burst into applause and Mara cast a sideways glance at the emperor. Oh, he was good. Playing up her humble origins might be just the thing he needed to satisfy the outer ring. But would it be enough to quash the growing rebellion, or had the abuse and neglect festered for too long?
“My son and heir’s betrothed, Mara, was raised in the small town of Stonehollow,” the emperor continued. “You might not recognize the name, but it is important to all of us. There, the villagers work tirelessly to grow the food you are enjoying today. Though her origins are humble, Mara is an asset to her kingdom. May their union bless Esterwyn with prosperity and might for generations to come!”
The room burst out in applause. Isaac pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit before taking the seat between her and the emperor. She perched on the chair, back stiff.
Rows of servants approached the table, carrying trays loaded with food. Mara’s mouth watered at the sight of poached eggs, asparagus, and smoked fish on toasted bread. Despite her disgust with the emperor, she couldn’t deny that the food was incredible. Maybe a decent meal would make up for the unpleasant company.
Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on her friends. Alex, Ella, Oona, Ethan, Mikkal, Wynn, and Tamil sat at a table at the back of the room. Mikkal was gesturing wildly with his hands, making Tamil double over in laughter. Her chest burned, whether from jealousy or from being unable to breathe, thanks to the corset, she wasn’t sure. She wished she could be sitting with them instead of up here, under the scrutiny of the upper class. She fit in as well as an Irrigo in a desert.
Reaching for a second helping of eggs, Mara took the opportunity to study her betrothed. The light blue tunic he wore stood out against his tanned skin, suggesting that he spent a great deal of time outside. His golden-brown eyes curved slightly at the edges, and his nose had a subtle bend, as though it had been broken at some point.
Without meaning to, Mara’s gaze wandered back to her friends’ table. Oona leaned over, brushing her hand against Ethan’s arm as she reached for a basket of apples, lingering too long to have been accidental. Mara’s fingers tightened on her fork, turning her knuckles white.
“I must say, you’re not quite what I expected,” Isaac said with a smile.
Mara jumped. “I’m sorry?”
If he noticed her reaction, he didn’t show it. “You were positively terrifying up close at the demonstration, but here, you seem rather subdued. Is the food not to your satisfaction?”
“The food is delicious, as usual. You were at the demonstration?” Mara picked at her eggs. She didn’t remember seeing him in the royal box. The emperor’s words played back in her mind, and she made the connection, picturing the flaxen-haired Saxum from the first group. “You!”
“Took you long enough to figure it out. It’s bruised my pride greatly that I wasn’t unforgettable, being a prince and all. I fear I may never recover from the shame.”
“It’s not like you’re the first prince I�
��ve met.” She snorted.
“Indeed?” Isaac leaned back in his seat. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Was he as handsome as me?”
When she didn’t respond immediately, his full lips turned down in a pout.
This time, she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her skull. Great, she was officially engaged to an arrogant prince who loved his mirror more than himself. Could this get any better? She angled her body away from him, choosing to watch the people instead. She pushed her plate away, her stomach roiling.
“You’re not happy with this arrangement.”
She jolted in surprise. For someone so absorbed in himself, he’d picked up on her mood quickly. Then again, it wasn’t as though she’d been hiding her feelings. She opened her mouth to say something that would placate him, then closed it again. Anything she said would come with a hearty spoonful of sarcasm.
He held up his hand. “It’s fine. You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to like me. I know this is a lot for you to take in at once.”
Mara looked out of the corners of her eyes. Was this a trap? She reached for her goblet. “It’s fine, Your Highness.”
“No, it’s not.”
Mara froze with the cup hovering in front of her lips.
His brows pulled down over his eyes, and he set his fork down, twisting in his seat to face her. “You don’t want to marry me, and that’s understandable. I’m not arrogant enough to expect you to be like those simpering idiots in the inner ring who would swoon if I sneezed at them. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re not wrong,” she whispered. She set down her goblet, and her hands twisted in her skirts. What was his point?
“Then we’re both in a position we don’t wish to be in. You’re not the only one struggling to come to terms with this arrangement. Usually, my bride would have been chosen from the upper echelons of society. Can you just imagine the tabloids tomorrow? From pauper to princess.” He shook his head and grimaced. “Think of the scandal!”
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