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And yet now, in this moment, with her hand locked in mine, our arms aligned, our blood mingling, I felt only blistering heat.

The vine rope came next, wrapping around us, starting above the elbows and winding down to our fingers. The greenery twisted like a snake, holding us captive, binding us together. A tenuous chain, but it felt as solid as iron as the priest proclaimed the final vows, marrying us. Two strangers bound together for the rest of our lives.

Life had never seemed so long.

8

Tamsyn

IT FELT LIKE EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE KINGDOM HADcrowded into the chamber with me. They observed me with a well-satisfied air, their eyes glassy and heavy-lidded from copious amounts of wine and revelry, their faces flushed from the gluttonous feast that had been provided following the wedding.

Thankfully, I had not attended the feast. Even if I could have kept food down, it would have been difficult to consume a meal with a veil covering my mouth.

My absence was explained away. Prior to the ceremony, the lord regent had explained to Lord Dryhten that it was not customary for the bride to attend the feast. Another deception. Now so very many of them. Not that I regretted missing the meal. Sitting besidehim, worrying about my every move, my every word, that unforeseeable thing I would inadvertently do to give myself away. Yes. I could miss out on that.

My fingers curled, digging into the mattress beneath me. Rich drapes of thick, impenetrable brocade hung to my right and left and behind the tall headboard, effectively curtaining me. Only the drapes at the foot of the bed had not yet been pulled close. I peered out through that yawning opening. My husband would enter the bed there—our marriage bed.My husband.How could such words now be a normal part of my vocabulary?

I stared out at the wedding guests lined up along the walls, witnesses to this final rite. The marriage would not be official until itwas consummated. It could still be overturned. Technically. I knew that. Traditionally, three witnesses were all that was required to legitimize a union, though, so this many observers was definitely overkill. Spectators come for the show, like wolves at the scent of blood.

I easily spotted the king and queen, resplendent in their full regalia. Also in attendance: the lord regent, the lord chamberlain, the high priest who had married us, high nobles of the king’s council, and nobles of court, including several of the ladies who’d helped prepare me for the day. I would not be surprised if a stable lad hovered in a corner. A bitter laugh welled up in my throat, which I managed to suppress. No sight of the princesses. Naturally. Maidens were not allowed to witness a bedding ceremony, and even without that rule, they were being kept out of sight for obvious reasons.

My last glimpse of Lord Dryhten had been as I was swept away by the queen and Lady Frida following our vows. The king and the lord regent flanked him, speaking intently, deep in a conversation that he had not appeared to be following, though he was followingme. His gaze tracked me over their heads.

That was hours ago. And now here I was, trying so very hardnotto feel like a sacrificial lamb.

A couple of minstrels sat in the corner, playing the lyre and drumming on a tabor. I struggled to swallow against my constricting throat. It was a proper party to watch me get tupped by the Beast of the Borderlands.

My husband.

I scowled beneath my veil. At least I had that in my favor—a protective barrier concealing my expressions from gawking onlookers. And from him.

A lady laughed at something a gentleman murmured in her ear. She swatted him with her fan as she took a sip from her goblet. Her eyes found me in the center of the bed, and she lifted her goblet in salute, her lips glistening red from her drink.

A sour taste filled my mouth. My life, my sacrifice, was a diversion for others. A joke. Even if I served the realm. Even if I wasequal to any warrior. I swept a glare over all of them. These people didn’t see me that way. Only my family appreciated me.

I supposed that was the nature of sacrifice. Was it ever appreciated in the moment?

In this, doingthis, I had not earned respect. Had I thought I would?

I exhaled, reminding myself that I was not doing this for appreciation or recognition. One did the right thing simply because it was the right thing. If I was expecting appreciation or recognition from the nobles of the Penterran court, I would be waiting forever.

The only other person who looked unhappy with the situation was the lord chamberlain, and I surmised that this was because he’d lost his whipping girl. The bitterness in my mouth faded a bit. Some good would come of this. I would no longer have to endure the man’s hitched breath in my ear every time he flogged me.

Now you will only endure the Beast.

I pulled the coverlet up to my chin, feeling myself shrink into the mattress at the prospect. The moment was nigh. My gaze landed on the queen. She stared intently at me as though there was no veil between us at all. I heard her voice in my head:Do not let him see your face until the deed is done.

I wrapped that reminder around myself. Unclenching my fingers until they no longer felt numb, I lowered the coverlet to the top of my chest with an expelled breath, telling myself not to appear so skittish.

Countless judging eyes assessed me as I waited. Bloodlust hung in the air. They expected a show. And not just the spectacle of the bedding—although they would not hate that. They wanted to see what was to comeafterthe bedding. The people in this room knew the truth. They knew who was—and wasn’t—behind the veil, and they knew the fallout was going to be spectacular once the Beast knew, too.

They craved that inescapable unmasking. We had tricked him. All of us. They expected rage and violence and visual confirmation of every rumor and legend they had ever heard about him. Theydid not realize that they were to be excluded from that revelation, however.

The queen had already promised me that the chamber would be cleared of all witnesses immediately following the bedding. It made sense. Lord Dryhten’s ego would already be smarting. No need to add to his inevitable humiliation by including dozens of witnesses to the uncomfortable situation. The king and the lord regent would do the unmasking and offer forth explanations.

The queen had smiled at me amid her reassurances. “We shall explain to him that you, too, are a daughter of the throne. As precious to us as any child born of our line.”

Her words were meant to reassure me, and I wanted to believe her.