Page 33 of A Cursed Son

It was my choice not to tell anyone about it.

I feel cold all over. Oh, he could literally cover me with ice.

“Also…” Andrezza pauses and swallows. Whatever is coming, I’m not going to like it. “I don’t know all the details of the marriage contract, but they told me it has no virginity clause, so you don’t need to worry if he finds out you’re experienced.”

Ugh? Can anyone call that experienced? It’s like calling someone who played a few times with a wooden sword an experienced fighter. And how does she even know?

She continues, “Still, my suggestion is for you to relax but pretend it hurts, just so he thinks he’s the first. Make him feel big, powerful, as if he’s conquering you.”

I think I might throw up.

The reality of what I’m about to do finally hits me, and hits me hard. Relax. I’ll have to relax, during… Would he want to…?

True, I’ve been having dreams about it, but dreams and reality are completely different. My knees almost buckle, but what’s the point of falling face down on the floor?

Andrezza approaches me and pats my face gently, as if the gesture was encouraging and not a soft version of slaps to the face. “Be strong. You’re prepared for this.”

I’m dizzy. Why didn’t I run with Otavio? I know why, and yet… And then perhaps I simply didn’t think this through.

She looks me up and down. “You’re still beautiful, Astra. Remember to be enchanting, and you’ll command him.”

Command Marlak? Hilarious. I don’t think she’s seen him. My heart is going to explode.

“Ready?” Otavio asks from behind the door.

“Yes. Come in,” Andrezza replies.

I lost my voice. Lost my courage. Even my honor is leaving me, as I regret not having chosen the coward’s way.

Marlak, the real Marlak, is terrifying. The idea of being given to him… What a strange idea. I have to keep my wits or I’ll faint. Well, what difference does it make if I faint or not?

Otavio is standing in front of me, and puts both his hands around my face. They’re too hot even though they are cold, there’s too much pressure even though there’s none, and I’m feeling too strange.

He says, “Find out where he hides the Crystal Court treasure, especially the crown. The shadow ring, too.” It’s odd that he’s repeating it, but I guess he’s afraid I’ll forget it. “That information is valuable. Find out his secrets, his vulnerabilities. We’ll help you come back, and we’ll try to contact you. Remember to answer to me.” He looks straight into my eyes. “I can guarantee your safety.”

Andrezza has a dry chuckle. “Don’t you love how he leaves me out?”

I try to smile, but I think I’m making a dreadful grimace. Otavio often leaves her out, and much more than she realizes, if she doesn’t know my secret. His words were for me, and they mean that I should trust him and answer to him only, not to him and her, not to him and the king.

He’s the bearer of my secret, the protector of my identity, and this was a reminder. But she doesn’t know about it, of course, and thinks he’s just being careless with his words.

“I’m ready,” I squeak. That sounded ridiculous.

And no. I’m not ready.

Many times I imagined getting married as part of my duty, but it was always in a distant kingdom, in a glamorous party, dressed as Princess Driziely.

I never could have guessed that my wedding would happen in the chapel of the Elite Tower, the chapel where I found my connection with the Almighty Mother. I was ready to lie and pretend in front of representatives from other kingdoms, but to lie and pretend in front of the priestess is a blasphemy that makes me sick.

And yet, I was the one who squandered the alternative and refused to run away. Will regret follow me for the rest of my days?

Otavio and Andrezza walk beside me and a few guards follow us as I enter the chapel. The king and queen themselves, surrounded by many guards, are sitting at the front. Wow, I kept the king waiting. I don’t know if it’s an honor or a disgrace.

There’s also a hunched figure in the front, with curly black hair to his shoulder, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt. He gets up, turns, and his eyebrows shoot up when he sees me, perhaps surprised with the new hair color or disappointed with the dress. Who knows what he wants? He’s wearing earrings with crescents—just like in the dream.

My entire body trembles as I walk to him. I try not to look at his face, but from what I glimpse, it’s set in an unreadable mask.

“Make it fast,” someone says. The king. He definitely didn’t appreciate the wait.