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Our marriage would be tainted, soured like wine pressed from rotten fruit. I had believed in love once, back when I was a child. I believed in that delicate hand meant to guide me home, in wide doe eyes that understood before the heart ever could.

I had heard the stories of Serpent daughters bartered away as peace offerings. Sons, too. But now, as the bitter juice touched my tongue and silver lace gripped tight around my ribs, the bells began to toll through the Grimswire courtyard.

That’s when I knew, I hadn’t sipped wine. I’d swallowed poison. No . It wasn’t poison. It was marrying Damien Lynch which felt more like a curse.

I stayed. I didn’t wander to unknown lands and risk my life.

I stayed because a battle with choked breath seemed less terrifying than starting over in a foreign world.

A broken heart, mended and swollen, grasped at the pieces thrust and pierced.

And I held it, like silken chains that bound my bones with the first strum of the violin.

The roses were the same shade as heartbreak, thorns unclipped as they lined the walkway. Red was the color of blood and death.

To death do us part .

I was marrying Damien Lynch, son of the sixth Summer Serpent, brother to the dark, fallen prince of the Night realm. As my thrashed, heat-burnt lungs craved the nocturnal, I stared at the sun and allowed the poison to soak through my veins and coat my flesh with fury.

“All rise,” the king announced.

A hush fell over the bridge as a dozen civilians leaned forward to watch from above the canal. The view was striking, but beauty meant nothing to me now.

My father stood beside me; his hands were coated in frost. I hadn’t seen him since the Serpent Estate, and I’d braced for tension, but not like this.

I hadn’t expected the sorrow in his voice. “You were the impossible bargain, Severyn,” my father whispered.

A bargain. That’s all I was. A trade. A piece of sun exchanged for the promise of prosperity.

“You told me my life was mine,” I said, the words slicing through the stillness. “But you lied.”

“Sev,” he murmured, a tear slipping down his flushed cheek. Still, his grip on mine didn’t falter. “We found roots this morning.”

The sun streaked my vision, but I didn’t look down. “I’m glad.”

“I’m proud of you, Severyn. I always have been.” He gave a soft smile. “Sivil planted hellebores. They bloomed last week. The whole land feels like Autumn now.” His fingers brushed the violet-tipped flower pinned to his chest. “I made sure he’d be here today. For you.”

It was hellebore. He didn’t know what it meant. But I did. I kept my expression still. My forgiveness had long dried up.

The song of matrimony began, echoing through the courtyard, and Father led me down the cobblestone path. “I wonder where he would be,” I muttered .

“Nowhere good,” he said. “But I miss that boy.”

I turned slightly toward him. “Do you know what Charles did?”

He drew out a long breath. “Yes.”

Damien stood beside his father, the picture of composure. Part of me longed for it—the simplicity of surrender. It would’ve been easy to give in. Easier than this. I wondered if rage was all that would ever remain between us.

Father’s hand slipped from mine, the cold of it already fading. “You will always be my warmth, Severyn,” he whispered. “And I give you now to the Summer heir.”

I scoured the crowd, silently begging him to fight. To see me. To choose me. But Archer Lynch refused to look at me. His gaze stayed fixed on the sun, his expression unreadable.

The king stood at the end of the aisle, cloaked in off-white robes stitched with shells and starlight thread. He raised a weathered hand and silence struck. “We are joined here today to witness the union of two realms,” he said. “Do you, Damien Lynch, take Severyn Blanche to be your wife?”

Damien didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

I screamed into the bond, “ Save me. Please. Do something.” But there was nothing left to reach for. No thread to grasp. Not after he gave up Ciaran. Not after he severed us.

Sprouts had begun to grow in Colindale. This was for them. For the sun. For the land that still wore my fading name like a crown.

“And do you, Severyn Blanche, take Damien Lynch?” The question rang like a bell marking my undoing.

“Yes,” I said. My voice was flat, but the silence that followed was louder than any scream.

Everything about this was wrong.

The king nodded and turned toward Victor and my father. “State the terms of your bargain. ”

Victor’s voice carried across the courtyard. “Years ago, I gifted eternal sunlight to Andri as a symbol of peace and sealed it with a promise that my heir would one day marry his daughter. This union fulfills that vow.”

The king asked, “And if the marriage is illegitimate?”

Victor scoffed. “He is my heir.”

The king turned to my father. “Andri, is she your daughter?”

Andri gave a single nod. “Severyn is my daughter. I raised her.”

In silence, he drew a narrow silver blade from a holder. “Then we proceed with the marriage bind,” he said. “By tradition, the realms are joined through blood. Ice and warmth, will now be united as one. Damien and Severyn will forever be bonded through an unbreakable marriage bind.”

Unbreakable .

My thoughts snapped silent as the blade kissed my palm—first mine, then Damien’s.

The sting was swift, a flash of fire that stole my breath.

A gasp caught in my throat as warmth surged beneath my skin.

Blood welled fast, spilling down my wrist and soaking into the silver gown Gailyn had sewn with such careful hands.

Damien stepped forward, his eyes locked on mine, and pressed his bleeding hand to my own. Palm to palm. Skin to skin. Blood to blood. A bond meant to last forever, forged with a cut I never chose.

We stood there, breath held, as if the world itself was waiting. But nothing happened. No shimmer of magic, no spark of binding light. Just the steady drip of blood and the silence of something gone wrong.

I swallowed hard. “Is it done?”

The king stepped closer, the weight of his gaze like stone. “She carries no trace of Winter,” he said, voice cold and clear. “She is not Andri’s daughter by blood. ”

The words didn’t make sense. Couldn’t. I blinked. “What did you say?”

A stunned silence swept over the court. Then the king turned toward us, his face inscrutable. “You may kiss your bride, Damien.”

Damien didn’t truly meet my eyes. His gaze flicked to the king, then to Victor, as if waiting for permission. For a moment, I thought he might step back. Instead, he reached for my jaw, trying to pull me in.

“One kiss,” he said. “Then you can hate me forever.”

“The bargain is void!” Victor’s voice suddenly tore through the stillness. “The marriage is off.”

He lunged forward and grabbed Damien’s arm, pulling him away from me like I was a beast in a white dress. “I will not have my son bound to a nameless girl. Who knows what filth runs through her veins, who her real father is?”

I stumbled back, clutching my bleeding hand to my chest as if that alone could keep me from falling apart.

Across the courtyard, I met Archer’s gaze. He didn’t move, but he looked like he was forcing himself to stay rooted, like it took everything in him not to run to me.

Then the king’s voice cut through the muffled gasps. “No, Victor. Your vow was to Andri. You offered sunlight in exchange for marriage to his daughter, not to a bloodline. The gift stands.”

Victor spun, eyes blazing. “He lied! She’s not even his!”

“You never asked,” the king replied flatly. “You named her. You made the vow. You sealed it. This is your failure.”

Victor spat at Andri’s feet. “Is your whole bloodline mud? Was Fallon that desperate to run from you?”

Beside him, Damien shifted, jaw clenched. “Father… her blood doesn’t matter to me. I still wish to marry Severyn.”

Victor snapped, “It matters to me. You will not marry that bastard child. Gods only know who her father is. ”

Andri stepped forward, his voice rough. “I never wanted her to find out like this. Severyn is my daughter, she is my child!”

The world dropped out from under me.

I wasn’t his daughter. I wasn’t Winter-born.

I wasn’t anything. I turned and ran from the courtyard, past the stone paths and hedged walls, until I found sand beneath my feet and the sound of water crashing just ahead.

For a moment, I considered swimming, just to get away from all of it, from everything I had ever been told.

Holy Gods. This was… this was. I couldn’t even make sense of it.

When the footsteps came, soft and measured, I didn’t turn. Not until a hand touched my shoulder.

Archer.

“What just happened?” I whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“If I’m not Andri’s daughter… then who is my father?”

“We’ll find out,” he said. “Together.”

“Together? You let me walk into that marriage. You let him almost marry me.”

“There was no stopping the ceremony without condemning you to worse,” Archer said. “I had to let you choose, even if that choice came too late. A loveless marriage is easier to survive than one where you love someone else.”

“And the bargain?” I asked. “Why didn’t the sun vanish from Colindale?”

“The king worded it carefully. The vow was to Andri’s daughter, not to a Winter blood. The smoke should’ve shown both quells of ice and warmth. But it didn’t. Victor backed out. That’s on him.”

I stared at the horizon. “I made a fool of myself. In front of all of them. ”

Archer’s hand cradled the back of my head, drawing me closer. “No,” he murmured. “You stood there ready to marry Damien, for the sake of your homeland. That’s not weakness, that’s strength.”

The crunch of footsteps broke the stillness.

Damien stood nearby, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, eyes cold and calculating as they swept over us.

“He’s weak, Sev,” Damien said softly, stepping forward. “He can’t protect you like I can. Don’t run back to him. Please… stay.”