Rip his fingers from their sockets, Ruin whispers, and he’s usually the least violent of the creatures trapped within me.
“Control your dog,” I tell Maren with quiet menace.
“How dare you speak to her like that?” Adaia’s face goes red. “How dare you lay claim to my daughter? I don’t care what you offer me, you’ll never have her. Never. As Etan mentions, I have promised her hand to him and the contracts are already—”
“Her hand is not yours to give,” I tell her coolly. “Vi is of age. It’s her choice.”
“Iskvien is mine and she signed those contracts of her own free will. If you think I will ever grant you my blessing to marry her—"
“I’m not asking for permission, Adaia.” I tug Vi onto the throne at my side. “It is done. Vi agreed to marry me last night and our union was blessed by a priestess of Maia.”
You’re too late.
“You what?” Adaia’s eyes threaten to bulge out of her head. “You little slu—”
“That’s enough.” It takes everything I have not to slip into the shadows right now. “You will not speak to her like that again. She is a princess of Evernight now.”
“You speak of peace and ruining alliances, but you have no idea what you’ve done.” Adaia hisses. “Iskvien was betrothed to Etan of the Goldenhills, and her wedding was bound to cement an alliance between Aska and Asturia. It’s not just me you think you’ve thwarted. Maren, tell him. She signed the contract!”
Queen Maren is Etan’s aunt.
But she merely strokes her fingers along the edge of her carved chair, her glittering eyes watching the entire affair play out. Of all the queens in the alliance, she’s the one I am most wary of. Maren plays the long game, and while she’s not openly ambitious the way Adaia is, she’s dangerous in a way the Asturian queen could never hope to match.
“Any wedding officiated by a priestess of Maia is legitimate,” Maren murmurs slowly. Her attention focuses on Iskvien. “Unless the princess can claim she was coerced.”
“No.” Iskvien stares them all down, including her mother. “There was no coercion. I married him of my own free will.” This time when she turns to her mother, there’s a growing confidence within her. “I married him because I wanted to. I married him because I wanted peace between our two countries, peace for the alliance. And I married him because… because I think I could come to love him.”
I never dared wish for such a thing. Love. It’s only been three days, but the suggestion knots hard around my own heart.
Vi turns to Maren. “My apologies for the deception, Your Majesty, but if there was ever coercion involved, it was in forcing me to sign that contract. My mother threatened to kill someone if I did not do so. I never wished to deceive you.”
“Enough of this nonsense,” Adaia snaps. “Come here.”
Like she’s talking to a dog.
“No.” Vi stares her down. “I have made my decision. We are married and the marriage is consummated. It is too late to deny it.”
“You had no right.” Adaia shakes with fury as she glares at me. “She is mine and you have stolen what is mine. There will be no peace. None. I will not—”
“You have no cause to deny the marriage,” Maren cuts in. “It is done, Adaia. Done.”
The two queens stare at each other.
“Then I will have recompense,” Adaia snaps.
“You have the disputed territories in Mistmere,” Lucidia points out. “What more could you wish?”
“My daughter.” Adaia turns all her fury upon Vi. “He has stolen my daughter. He has turned her against me—”
“He never turned me against you,” Vi bursts out, as if she’s unable to hold her frustration within her. “You did that yourself.”
“See!” Adaia gestures toward her as she begs the other queens. “In three mere days my beloved child has gone from being content and happy in my arms, to being defiant and disobedient. You’ve all seen her before. You’ve all met her. She’s changed! He’s ensorcelled her.”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort.”
But Maren looks thoughtful and Lucidia reaches out to accept a glass of wine from the tray her granddaughter—Lucere—provides.
“It is not enough to offer me mere lands,” Adaia seethes. “Is Mistmere meant to comfort me on those nights when my child is gone from my arms?”
“It didn’t seem to bother you when you were selling me to Etan,” Vi grinds out between her teeth.
I lace a hand over hers. “You grow greedy, Adaia. I would have thought you longed for peace.”
Adaia’s eyes glitter with malice.
Peace has never been an option between us. The only thing that will ever appease her will be my head on a stake.
“Prince Thiago speaks the truth,” Kyrian murmurs, finally speaking up from where he lounges with insolent grace, swinging his crown around his finger. “The Alliance has long wished for peace between all our kingdoms. Perhaps this marriage will cement such a notion. Perhaps it is necessary.”
“But Adaia also speaks truly,” Maren murmurs, “Iskvien is her daughter. Is she to lose her daughter from her side forever? If Iskvien was to marry into my court then Adaia would be free to visit her, and Iskvien allowed to return to her mother’s court for important gatherings. One marriage is not the same as the other. It seems cruel to lose a child you love so dearly.”
Vi tenses as if she wishes to retort, but I squeeze her hand. “I would never deny my wife if she wished to return to her mother’s court for such gatherings. It would be her choice.”
When the Underworld turns to flames, says the stubborn jut of Vi’s chin.
Kato’s realm is as cold, barren and lifeless as
