Page 31

Chapter Twenty

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as Nessira twisted my long blonde waves into intricate braids, tucking them away from my face. My lip ached from the constant chewing as I worried over what Clay had said the night before, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

His plans didn’t even matter, anyway.

Based on Clay’s conversation with Prince Damon, his plans wouldn’t be coming to fruition anytime soon.

My marriage to Veric, however was imminent.

Whatever Clay had intended for the Council—whatever sparks might have lingered between us—were irrelevant now.

If Clay was planning to change the laws, it wasn’t for us.

It was for the next pair of star-crossed lovers who would finally be able to allow themselves to embrace the spark that secretly burned between them.

“You seem distant this morning, my Lady,” Samsa noted as she slipped my feet into the hard-soled shoes I’d be wearing today.

I glanced down at her, then met Nessira’s eyes in the looking glass as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. I stood, smoothing my skirt with trembling fingers, and took a deep, cleansing breath.

“All is well, Samsa,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “We should go. Veric is likely waiting for me.”

Clay was a future that didn’t exist for me. I needed to embrace the one I would have .

Veric stood by the exterior palace doors, waiting as we descended the last steps from the guest rooms. His gaze met mine, and his wide smile softened something in my chest.

“You look absolutely stunning, Theadora,” he said, taking my hand and bowing deeply. “Tenebris suits you.”

Once again, Nessira and Samsa had chosen an ensemble from this country’s fashions for me to wear.

The cropped blouse, fitted beneath my breasts, displayed intricate beading and embroidery on the dusty rose fabric.

Its neckline was scandalously low, requiring extra preparation time for Nessira to paint the Mark of Hyrax across my chest. My matching skirt flared with golden flowers expertly embroidered along the hem.

Dangling gold earrings completed the look, along with a delicate veil folded seamlessly into the braids of my hair.

“Thank you, Veric.”

Veric himself looked striking in a long white tunic with elaborate golden thread work and a high collar.

His bare arms—exposed to adjust for the heat—were impressively defined.

In the daylight, his thick hair shone darker, his eyes even brighter.

And he grinned at me with a genuineness that made my heart ache.

He tucked my arm into his, keeping that smile plastered on his face as he led me outside into the warm embrace of the day. The heat wrapped around us like a heavy blanket as Nessira and Samsa followed at a respectable distance.

As we reached the edges of the palace property, I frowned, glancing around. “Will the guards be joining us?”

Veric tilted his head, his confusion mirroring my own. “Why would they?”

“I’m a Princess of House Hyrax,” I said simply. There hadn’t been a single day in my life that I didn’t have a guard attached to my hip .

Veric’s grin widened, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I suspect your Crown Prince will be displeased when he finds out, but let’s just say the guards owed me a favor.”

“You convinced them not to come? How? ”

“I meant what I said last night,” he told me earnestly, his grip on my arm tightening slightly as he tugged me to continue our walk. “I want to know my future wife, not my future Councilwoman. That distinction is important to me.”

E xploring Tenebris with Veric by my side was exhilarating, if only because I got to see it through his eyes. Every corner we turned ignited his excitement, his voice animated as he rattled off facts about the history and architecture of every street, building, and monument.

He walked me to the school where he had mastered his magic and introduced me to the elderly mentor who had taught him.

He showed me the courtyard where he and his friends had spent their boyhood afternoons, laughing as he recounted stories of pranks and mischief.

His life unfolded before me, piece by piece, and I listened to each story with rapt attention, allowing myself to see the world the way he did.

Eventually, we found ourselves in what Veric called the market district, a labyrinth of vibrant streets filled with colorful stalls.

Merchants sold everything from rich textiles to elaborate pottery, fragrant spices, and shimmering jewelry.

Each step brought a new scent—grilled meats sizzling over open flames, the sweet bite of cinnamon and cardamom wafting through the air.

Artisans lined the narrow paths, displaying leather goods, carved wooden figurines, and delicate beaded veils.

Veric’s passion for it all was infectious. He moved from stall to stall, his energy boundless as he asked questions, teased the vendors, and insisted I sample their offerings. His admiration for his homeland shone through every word and gesture.

And yet, as we walked, I couldn’t shake the image of the Village of Life from my mind. Despite the warm welcome from the Tennebrisians—some bowing, others inviting me to dance or sample their wares—the connection I felt to them didn’t compare to what I’d experienced the night before.

Still, Tenebris was undeniably beautiful.

Even here in this bustling market corridor, where people darted in and out of shops and homes, the buildings towered elegantly.

Their sparkling windows and wide arches glinted in the sunlight, and every stone seemed to glow under the warm air.

Even the streets themselves were works of art, painted with intricate murals of gods, mythical creatures, and sprawling landscapes.

After nearly an hour of strolling, Veric noticed me staring at one of the street paintings and glanced at me, curiosity etched on his face.

“Do you recognize it?” he asked.

I chuckled softly, my gaze fixed on the image of a beast with multiple heads, each one more venomous than the last. “I killed it.”

Veric slowed to a stop, tilting his head in disbelief. Then he laughed.

“No, I mean it,” I insisted.

His brows shot up. “You killed the Hydraxan?”

“During my magic trial. And believe me, it wasn’t easy. I nearly died.”

His expression shifted—confusion giving way to disbelief, then to something that almost looked like admiration. He whistled softly, taking my hand and leading me onward.

“You know something?”

“Hmm? ”

“You’re somehow equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring. It’s not at all how I expected you to be.”

I snorted, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks as we continued our path through the market. As we walked, I let my attention wander to a nearby cart, where an older merchant displayed an array of blades and weapons.

I approached slowly, not letting go of Veric’s hand as I studied the collection. None of the weapons seemed particularly formidable; many needed polishing or sharpening, but the hilts were beautifully carved with elaborate swirls and lines.

“They’re mostly decorative,” Veric explained as I lifted one, testing its weight with a frown. “Used to signify status or worn during special occasions.”

“Like what?”

He took the blade from my palm and twirled it effortlessly between his fingers before holding it up to the vendor. “Two silvers.”

Fishing the coins from his pocket, Veric handed them over and extended the blade to me, hilt-first, with an elaborate flourish and a bow.

“For you.”

“You didn’t have to,” I laughed, accepting the gift.

“Well, they’re worn on occasions like our party tonight. It’s a tradition for the groom’s father to etch the handle of his sword.”

“And is it tradition for the bride to have a weapon?”

He met my gaze conspiratorially. “No, but I suspect that might be a tradition you’re willing to start.”

Nessira took the dagger to carry for me while Samsa helped with the box of spices and teas Veric purchased on my behalf.

At first, he’d frowned when I asked for them, insisting he could get me anything I wanted—that just further up the street were the finest bakeries and dressmakers in the country .

But I’d only shaken my head. “The spices and tea are exactly what I want.”

He seemed suspicious as we passed a cart of sparkling jewelry that stole Nessira’s attention, but I held firm. Spices and tea were practical things that I could easily bring back to Athenia. I’d save them for a time when Veric felt particularly homesick and surprise him with the familiar flavors.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. It wouldn’t give him the life he wanted here in Tenebris, but perhaps it would ease the ache just a little.

We got along well enough. Veric had made me laugh several times throughout the day, and he was always kind and considerate. He matched his pace to mine and consistently offered breaks for rest or food. He shared everything he could with me, teaching me about his culture and his place within it.

Truthfully, I liked Veric.

It wasn’t the same passionate intensity I felt for Clay—the kind of connection that could either set us ablaze together or burn down the realm around us.

Glancing at Veric didn’t send tingling anticipation racing through my veins.

Holding his hand was nice, but it didn’t leave me acutely aware of every place our skin touched.

But it was something . There were much worse men to be married to. So, I would commit myself to nurturing that companionship for the rest of our lives.

As the sun climbed higher, the streets became more crowded and the noise of the market district began swelling around us.

People jostled past, their voices rising in a cacophony of bartering, laughter, and chatter.

Veric guided me through it all, one hand wrapped around me and the other firm on my back, but there was a growing sense of unease prickling at the edges of my awareness .

I couldn’t pinpoint it at first. A shift in the air, maybe, or the way certain merchants glanced nervously at the edges of the square. Even Veric seemed more alert, his amiable smiles fading as he scanned the crowd.

Then came the distant sound of boots. Heavy, measured, and growing louder.

The first soldier appeared at the far end of the square, his dark uniform a sharp contrast to the colorful stalls. Then another. And another.

The merchants fell silent first, their voices trailing off as the soldiers pressed forward. Shoppers paused, their gazes darting between the guards and each other. The festive energy of the market evaporated in an instant, replaced by tension so thick it was suffocating.

“What’s happening?” I whispered, gripping Veric’s arm.

He didn’t answer immediately, his expression darkening as more soldiers poured into the square.

Then chaos erupted.

“What are you doing?” Samsa cried, clutching the glass of tea leaves just as a soldier grabbed her arm.

The jar shattered on the stones, splintering into shards that cut into my ankles.

“Let go of her!” I demanded, reaching for the blade at my thigh.

My magic surged as I focused on the soldier holding Samsa, forcing his grip to loosen. She stumbled free, running into Nessira’s arms. But even as I acted, more soldiers closed in, their shouts ringing above the chaos.

“What is the meaning of this?” Veric demanded, his voice sharp as a soldier seized him.

It all happened too fast. Hands reached for me, for Samsa, for Nessira. They were ripped backwards away from me.

And suddenly I wasn’t looking at my ladies. I was seeing red hair, a hand wrapped around a throat, a floor covered in the blood of my friend.

Veric was dragged away, his protests drowned in the rising noise .

My magic split, wanting all at once to protect him and Nessira and Samsa, but I couldn’t do it all. Especially not with this many people in the square and with the guards moving so quickly. They surrounded me, their distrust obvious. Magic crackled in the air between us.

I ripped my power up from the depths of my gut prepared to unleash it when a sharp jab in my neck stopped me cold.

The syringe emptied, its contents icy as they spread through my veins. My legs gave out first, and I collapsed into the waiting arms of a soldier. My arms went numb next, and the dagger slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the stones with a loud clang.

I felt my magic fighting against the poison, pulsing desperately to defend me, but it was no use.

The last thing I saw before darkness consumed me was a shimmering golden thread, glowing faintly in the air before it disappeared into nothingness.