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Bandur snarled, finally manifesting behind Father’s throne in a plume of smoke. I would learn some respect if I were you. He slunk a paw over the emperor’s shoulder. Or this betrothal ceremony just may become a funeral.

You wouldn’t dare.

Wouldn’t I? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve killed a king.

It took all my control not to jump up and tackle the demon. But he was only a shadow. No one, not even my father, noticed him. Whereas Chief Minister Hawar was silently recording every move I made with his hooded eyes.

All of it was kindling for Bandur to torture me further.

I could arrange it so it appeared that you murdered the emperor, Shiori, the demon mused. You’d be put in prison, easy to collect and take to the mountains.

Hate flooded my thoughts. No one would ever believe that I killed my father.

You’d be surprised what a few well-placed knives can do to change people’s minds. Especially with your reputation. Bandur clucked. The ministers would jump at the chance to put you in chains.

I hated that he was right. Most of all, I hated that I could do nothing.

Bandur floated away from Father’s throne toward Takkan. But why bother, when I know your greatest weakness?

Anger and fear converged in my throat. Leave Takkan alone.

What a peculiar emotion, human love, said Bandur, circling Takkan from behind. I never felt it when I was one.

At this I began to rise, ignoring the priests’ frowns. I warn you….

No, I warn you, Shiori. You saw your fate in the waters. Deny me what I want, and I will kill the one you love most. Sickle-sharp nails shot out of Bandur’s paws, scraping against Takkan’s jawline. In the end you will still bleed.

Then, in one slick motion, Bandur sliced across Takkan’s throat.

“No!” I screamed. “Takkan!”

“Shiori!” Father bellowed. “What are you—”

My heart roaring, I turned to Takkan. He was kneeling, his head slightly bent in prayer, as mine was supposed to be. No blood, no gash on his neck. He caught my eye, his brows knit with confusion.

Somewhere in the background, Bandur howled with laughter, knowing he’d fooled me. My horror fled, dissolving into stone-cold panic.

“Shiori, sit down,” Father barked. “At once!”

I hardly heard him. The room was spinning, and everyone was whispering, gossip starting to spread. I could read their lips easily. “Why did she scream?” the ladies said to each other. “Look at her eyes, all wild.” The lords, murmuring, “Most unbecoming. Hawar was right—there’s something off about her.” And Hawar himself was gleefully nattering to those beside him: “What did I tell you? She’s dangerous.”

It was too late to sit back down. I had to deflect attention away from any talk of magic or demons. I had to act like the Shiori they’d once known—impulsive, rash, and completely unpredictable.

Without another thought, I threw off my headdress and kicked away the red ribbons encircling my feet.

“I will not marry Bushi’an Takkan,” I declared in my most impudent tone.

My words stunned the room into silence. I supposed that was a victory.

The confusion on Takkan’s face had shifted into a dismayed understanding. Shiori, don’t.

I took a breath for courage. “I will not complete this ceremony,” I said, stomping my foot for emphasis. “I will not be tied down to a barren wasteland, shipped so far north that the sun is but a pebble in the sky. Lord Bushi’an Takkan will return to Iro at once. The betrothal is no more.”

I hiked up my skirt, ready to flee. No one was more surprised than Takkan when I hooked him by the arm, dragging him to his feet.

“Run!” I ordered, and he shot me a look of utter bafflement. But thank the Eternal Courts, he didn’t waste time. He ran.

I could hear my brothers being dispatched after us, so I cut through the gardens, veering off the paths and disappearing into the orchard. I didn’t know where we were going, only that I needed to get us as far from the temple as I could.