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I do not get a chance to speak to my bridegroom before the wedding.

Oh, he tries – with at least a dozen excuses for why he must talk to me alone – but his mother thwarts him at every turn.

I could try harder to meet with him, but I don’t understand the point.

Does he wish to apologize for the fate I am about to face? If so, that’s hardly helpful.

Oh, I fear we are about to sacrifice you to a gryphon. Terribly sorry about that.

No, if he feels some guilty compulsion to warn me of a fate I cannot escape, then that will only annoy me. It certainly won’t fix his kingdom’s monster problem, and I am determined to fix it.

The harder Eraric tries to speak to me, the more I need to fight against something I hate feeling. Hope. Hope that he is a decent person who would not sacrifice a stranger to keep his family’s hold on their throne. But I cannot help it. I always hope.

Two days later, I am in front of the bishop, pledging myself to Eraric.

I’m impressed by how quickly this has happened.

Normally, they take a few days to prepare the gown while I bask in the luxury owed to a future sacrifice.

But no, I have one day to be pampered and spoiled, and then it’s off to the altar.

I have collected a few jewels along the way.

That is always useful. Eliminating monsters is a thankless – and profitless – occupation, and I take every bauble I can get my hands on.

In this case, I have the necklace, the wedding ring, a set of earrings, two bracelets and a handful of jewels that I liberated from the queen’s quarters while she was having me primped and primed in her boudoir.

After the wedding, I expect a meal. Truly, it is the least I deserve, and shouldn’t the royals and the nobility celebrate my sacrifice in grand fashion?

There is usually a feast, sometimes even dancing, but I get none of that.

Either they’re in a very big hurry to sate the gryphon, or they’re too miserly to waste a party on a fake wedding.

I have barely said “I do” before the queen is at my side, herding me away.

“Your honeymoon awaits,” she says.

“Already?”

“No time to waste, my dear. We have such a voyage planned for you. A grand ship awaits beyond the mountains.”

“The mountains?” I say uncertainly. “With the gryphon?”

“Yes, the gryphon who has been waiting for Eraric to wed. We must show you to it, so it knows we have upheld our end of the bargain.”

“Oh, all right, then.”

The king pats my back. “Such a good girl. Now, let us get you into your riding clothes.”

***

We are on the road by dinner hour. That means not only do I miss my wedding feast, but they do not even feed me before plunking me into a carriage, where I am seated with Prince Eraric and his parents.

“How far is it to the coast?” I ask.

“You will be there by noon tomorrow,” the queen answers.

I frown. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but if the ride takes a half-day, why not depart in the morning?”

“Because we choose to depart now.”

She turns to look out through the window, waving to her people. I notice they do not wave back. They do not even line the street to watch us depart. They go about their lives, as if the royal family is not passing in a grand coach.

“The gryphon ceremony must take place at dusk,” Eraric murmurs. “We will stop at the place, complete the ceremony, and then sleep the night.”

“And eat?” I ask.

The queen turns to glower at me for my impertinence, but Eraric smiles.

“And eat,” he says. “The meal is packed on top of our coach. A wedding feast.” His eyes sparkle. “Would you like me to tell you what there is?”

“Eraric, please,” his mother says. “You are a prince, not a steward.”

“We start with the soup,” Eraric says. “Turtle soup made from the rare bellini turtle. It is quite good…though I do worry about the turtles. Their populations are in decline.”

His father huffs. “Which is why only kings and queens eat them.” He smiles indulgently at me. “And princes and princesses.”

“Yes, well, it is very good soup,” Eraric says. “Next we have a salad made from the most delicate shoots…”

***

Soon after, we pass the deserted mine. I stare past the massive guard station, into the darkness beyond.

I frown. “It is a very well-guarded mine.”

“Because it is a very valuable one,” the queen says, with exaggerated patience, as if speaking to a very dense child.

“But there are no guards here now. Anyone could slip in and steal from you.”

The king smiles. “It is not as if the earth’s wealth lies scattered on the ground, child. Obtaining it is very difficult and requires specialized equipment and specially trained men.”

I do not ask more. I am only needling them, and I really should not indulge the urge. I know why it is only guarded when the miners are present. But when I go silent, Eraric frowns.

“Why is it so well guarded?” he asks. “It seems excessive.”

His father clears his throat. “Might we discuss this later? It is your wedding day. A time for joyous conversation, not dull matters of business.”

Eraric nods, with obvious reluctance, and we fall back into silence.

***

“ What the devil is that?” the king says, when the pounding of hooves has us all sitting up.

He’s putting his head out the window when the coach comes to a stop so suddenly the queen shrieks and pulls him inside.

Eraric throws open the door. His mother reaches for him, whispering, “Bandits!” but he only dodges her hand and clambers out.

“Sergeant Hauge?” Eraric says. “What is the meaning of this? Where is the rest of your troop?”

I hike my riding skirt and exit the coach to see a young man scrambling off his horse.

About Eraric’s age, he has tan skin, dark hair, and a scar running from his temple.

He’s dressed in military attire, with a sword at his side.

His uniform is torn and filthy, and a bloody slice on his cheek promises him a second scar.

“Oh!” I say. “Are you all right, sir?”

“Not sir ,” Eraric murmurs gently. “Remember you are a princess.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

“I second my bride’s question, Hauge. What the devil has happened?”

The young sergeant struggles for breath. “Gryphon. It was – it was the gryphon, sir. It attacked. They—” He swallows. “They are all gone, Your Highness. Dead.”

Eraric blinks. “Dead?”

“I—I think so. The beast took Captain Basara, after slaying my other two comrades. I tried to chase after it, to free the captain, but I could not keep up.”

Eraric takes a moment to compose himself. “I am sorry to hear about your comrades, and I hope Captain Basara survives. This is my fault for not taking a bride sooner. But I have done it now, and the beast will be satisfied. No one else will die. You have my word.”

His mother makes a small noise, as if to remind him that someone else will indeed die. His new bride. Best not to tempt fate with broken promises.

“Are you well enough to join us, Sergeant?” Eraric says.

“He must be,” the queen says. “He needs to accompany you and Marielle.”

“Accompany us where?” I ask.

Eraric doesn’t look my way, only murmurs, “The last part of the journey is along a road too difficult for the coach. We shall be leaving my parents behind. Captain Basara and his men were to accompany us the rest of the way. Now it seems it will only be Sergeant Hauge. Unless you are not up to it, Sergeant? I am certain I could protect the princess myself—”

“Absolutely not,” his mother says. “Hauge will go with you.”

Is it my imagination, or does Eraric sag at that?

“Fine,” he says. “He will have the night to recover and then—”

“No,” the queen says sharply. “Two of our men are dead. Probably three. We cannot delay any longer. You will leave right after the ceremony.”

My brow creases. “But the ceremony will stop the gryphon, will it not?”

Silence, as the queen works on an excuse. Surprisingly, it’s the king who comes to her rescue.

“It should,” he says, “but the gryphon is obviously enraged, and we cannot take the chance it will attack our son.” He clears his throat.

“Or his new bride, of course. We must get you both out of the kingdom as soon as possible. Now, everyone back in the coach. Dusk will fall soon, and we must hold the ceremony at sundown.”

***

We’ve travelled partway up the mountain, where the road ended at a small plateau. I’m standing on the edge, looking out.

“Careful, my lady,” a voice says, and I turn to see Sergeant Hauge. His lips twitch in a tiny smile. “It is a beautiful view, but take care you do not stand too close to the precipice. It is dangerous.”

I inch toward the edge. “Perhaps I like danger.”

“Perhaps you ought to like it a little less.” He catches my elbow and tugs me back, whispering, “Take care,” as his dark eyes meet mine.

“Please remove your hand from my bride.”

We both jump as Eraric strides over.

“I moved too close to the edge,” I say. “Sergeant Hauge was concerned.”

Eraric’s nod is curt. “Thank you, Sergeant. I will tend to my wife’s safety now.”

The young sergeant nods and steps back, then turns to head for the coaches, and I need to drag my gaze away from him.

“It is a beautiful view,” I repeat, looking out over the bluff. “You can see the city from here.”

Eraric moves up beside me. “You can, and it will be even more gorgeous at night when the city is lit. We hold all our important ceremonies here, where we can look down at our kingdom and be reminded of our duty to its people.”

It is a pretty sentiment, but from up here, you cannot see people. Only land and distant buildings. The kingdom as a concept, a thing to be owned and ruled, the people inside it lost, as the individual trees are lost in the blanket of green below.

“Eraric?” the queen calls. “Marielle? We are ready for you.”

We head over to what looks like a giant stone table. That gives me pause. I have seen such things, where the monster apparently requires humans to conduct the actual sacrifice. When I slow my steps, Eraric takes my hand and squeezes.