Page 2 of Esperance

The smile was small, but it altered his entire bearing. The remoteness, the cold intensity—it vanished in an instant, replaced with a half-smile so devastatingly handsome there was an unwanted flutter in her stomach.

Unwilling to process that, she sternly reminded herself who he was.The enemy.

Though she hadn’t returned his smile, his grew into a smirk, and Amryn felt his sudden spike of amusement. He was mocking her somehow, though she hadn’t done or said anything.

She jerked her eyes away, pretending to focus on the high cleric. But the color in her cheeks grew as Carver continued to watch her.

It was time for the oaths.

“Do you, Amryn Lukis, swear before the Divinities that you will love, protect, and cherish Carver Vincetti until death, and revere him as your husband?”

Her stomach cramped, and her voice came out a little hoarse as she responded to the cleric. “I swear.”

Carver still eyed her profile, and his hand tightened around hers; an unconscious tic, she thought.

“And do you, Carver Vincetti, swear before the Divinities that you will love, protect, and cherish Amryn Lukis until death, and revere her as your wife?”

“I swear.” Carver’s voice was deep and smooth, and without hesitation.

The high cleric easily continued his practiced words. “Then before the All-Seeing Divinities and these witnesses, you are now married. Please rise.”

They stood. Carver only released her hand long enough for them to turn to face the chapel, and then his fingers wrapped around hers once more.

Applause rang dully in the stone chapel, but the audience blurred as Amryn stared out at them. A tremble shook her legs, and her palms began to sweat as reality sank in.

She was married. And she was about to be trapped in this temple for a year—cut off from everything and everyone she had ever known.

Carver didn’t wait for the applause to die out. He tugged her away from the altar, and Amryn had no choice but to follow him. Her pulse thumped too loudly in her ears, and when they reached the first pew that held the other married couples, Carver withdrew his hand. She did not miss the way his fingers flexed—as if even the ghost of her touch bothered him.

They joined the couples on the first pew, and Amryn slid a fraction away so their shoulders wouldn’t accidentally brush. She wanted to bolt from the room, but instead she braced herself for the last marriage.

She was not prepared to see the man who took Carver’s place at the altar.

Prince Argent Vayne, heir to the Craethen Empire. She never would have imagined that he would take part in his grandfather’s scheme for peace. And she was clearly not alone.

Murmurs broke out as shock pulsed through the room, dominating all other emotions. Witnesses straightened sharply, and the whispering only died when the music started once more and the double doors swept open to reveal the final bride.

She was beautiful, with long black hair and rich brown skin. Her wedding gown was as long as Amryn’s, but her train stretched out far behind her. Her smile was shy as she met Prince Argent’s gaze across the chapel, and despite the sea of emotions that clouded everything, Amryn could feel the spark of the woman’s love and joy. And—surprisingly—Amryn felt it echoed in Argent as he grinned at his bride.

As the high cleric began the marriage ceremony for the empirical prince, dread rippled through Amryn. Had the Rising known he would be here? Did the rebels plan to assassinate the future emperor while he was stuck in Esperance with the rest of them?

She supposed in the end it didn’t matter.

The emperor had summoned them all to this temple in an effort to save the empire. Instead, Esperance would be its undoing.

Amryn was here to make sure of it.

Chapter 2

Carver

Carver stood on the edgeof the large banquet hall, studying the milling crowd as he sipped his wine. The emperor’s guest list had been minimal, for purposes of security. Each of the newlyweds had been allowed only one escort and a limited guard for the journey to the remote temple of Esperance, and the rest of the spectators were made up of nobles, politicians, and key church leaders from the capital.

Carver wondered how many of them were enemies.

Positioned by the towering archways that led to an open balcony, Carver could hear the sounds of the jungle that surrounded the temple compound. The screeching calls of birds, the chattering of monkeys, the chirp and thrum of countless insects. Rolling hills, thick vegetation, and distant jagged mountain peaks were all he could see. Gnarled vines strangled the tan stone railing of the balcony, which spanned the length of the dining hall. Sticky heat clung to Carver’s skin, but he wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. He had been in jungles before. He’d fought and bled in them.

He had never thought to be married in one, though.