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A fter a confusing bout of twists and turns through the unfamiliar hallways of The Haven, Teagan and I finally arrived in front of a pair of tall, honey-colored doors with large golden handles.

There were two guards beside each door, all of them at attention and not moving a muscle, even to look at us as we walked up.

The music had gotten increasingly louder the closer we got to our destination, and now I could tell it was playing just beyond these doors.

“You ready, Princess?” Teagan asked as she motioned for me to stand right in front of the doors, facing them.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I stated, not knowing how else to reply. She didn’t answer, just moved to stand behind me and lifted my lace train off of the ground so it wouldn’t snag as I walked down the aisle.

I’m actually about to do this , I thought suddenly, and had to suppress the surge of emotions back behind that mental barricade in my mind.

I’d been doing that a lot these past couple of days.

Teagan must have nodded to the guards, because before I could even be warned, the two closest guards moved and pulled open both doors, standing to hold them open with their bodies.

Spine straight as a rod, I took a step into the room, and slowly began walking.

The soft music of a harp swept over me, and it sounded like whoever was playing had constructed this song just for this moment.

They likely had, as royal weddings were generally quite the event.

The room I stepped into was huge, and I realized this was what I believed to be their throne room.

It doubled as a spacious courtyard in what I imagined was the middle of the castle.

There was a large wooden platform in the middle of the room where I could see a large throne made out of a tree. The throne looked like it had been crafted while the tree was still alive, the branches bent and shaped into perfection. It had a high back, and some vines had begun to grow on it.

It wasn’t until I walked through the arch above that I realized only half of the space was filled with fae, specifically the right side. The groom’s side , I realized. My side of the audience was completely empty. A pang of sadness and bitter surprise rang through my chest.

I had never imagined my own wedding being like this. I had always imagined having Father walk me down the aisle, not having to walk myself. I’d imagined Aurora and Dimitri by my side, supporting and encouraging me. I imagined my people attending, those who have seen me grow up from afar.

Never did I imagine this emptiness on my side of the aisle, and in my heart.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I didn’t see the small dip in the ground in front of me until I’d already stumbled into it. I didn’t fall, and quickly recovered, but with every pair of eyes in the room on me, my pale cheeks flushed, embarrassed.

For the first time since entering the room, I dared to look towards the altar in the middle of the platform ahead of me, towards the groom. Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks, right in the middle of the aisle.

Up at the front of the room, standing in a forest green suit with gold accents and wearing a similar circlet to Teagan’s, stood Byn.

There was a tiny pink line on his throat, likely new skin and mostly healed by now, where my dagger had been just a few nights before.

My eyes locked with his and my breathing started to increase as I began to panic.

I’d held a dagger to the throat of the King of the South. He was the one that rode with me all the way from Gatlyn Castle. He was the only Southerner to ever see me shed a tear. He was the one who warned me he’d be a powerful ally here in the South.

I guess he was right.

Behind me, I heard Teagan clear her throat, signaling for me to continue walking, but my feet were frozen in place. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like I could go through with this, didn’t know if I was strong enough.

Slowly, Byn nodded towards the platform, silently encouraging me to keep walking. I could hear the crowd murmuring, but his eyes never left mine. As if I was the only person in the room that mattered to him in this moment.

I knew I couldn’t trust him, and I hardly knew him, but somehow he was the only one getting me through this right now.

Without taking my eyes from his, I slowly placed one foot in front of the other again. My steps began to gain confidence the more of them I took, and soon I was stepping up the few stairs that led to the top of the wooden platform.

In the span of a few heartbeats, I stood in front of him, staring into his deep, green eyes, which only looked brighter when he was dressed in forest green. He wore a soft smile on his face as he continued to make eye contact, never breaking it.

What is he playing at? Is this all just for show?

I could feel Teagan carefully laying out the lace train of my dress behind me, then from the corner of my eye, I noticed her sit in the front row of Byn’s side of the aisle, next to Margo and four other people I didn’t recognize.

I could hear the officiant asking everybody to please be seated and began speaking, but my heartbeat was pounding so loud in my ears I couldn’t make out much of what he said.

My eyes drifted to stare at a spot behind Byn, trying to focus on the words being said and failing.

I could feel the mental walls in my mind starting to crumble.

I shifted my hands to be in front of me and started moving them in a fidgety way, my mind filled with anxieties and needing an outlet.

I rung them out and picked at my cuticles, and likely would have made them bleed if Byn hadn’t reached out to grab my hands.

My instinct was to rip them out of his grip, as I had to Teagan, but when I attempted to move, he held firm and gave a gentle squeeze.

My eyes snapped to his, and so quiet I knew only I could hear him, he murmured, “Just keep your eyes on me.”

If we weren’t in front of what was probably hundreds of people, I’d have gaped at him. I still didn’t trust him, but his expression was so open. That’s when I felt like I was really seeing him for the first time.

He was likely not many years older than I was, maybe twenty-two-years-old or so.

If what I’d heard around Gatlyn Castle was correct, then both of his parents had recently passed away, I believe in battle.

He must still be grieving, and yet here he is, marrying a stranger.

The daughter of the male likely responsible for the death of his parents.

He probably hadn’t even had time to grieve before being thrown into becoming a king and taking on all the responsibilities of an entire kingdom.

I can’t even begin to imagine…

I wondered how long he’d known he’d become king.

Some children are late bloomers when it comes to their zirilium, like I assumed Margo was since I didn’t see any sun stones on her, unlike Teagan who wore a bracelet with two stones on it.

Sun stones, the equivalent of a Northerner’s moon stones, helped to shape and control the Southerner’s zirilium.

The long sleeves Byn wore blocked my view of any bracelets he could be wearing, and none of his gold earrings had any stones that looked like Teagan’s.

I couldn't guess how many zirilium he could wield, but it had to at least be more than two, since obviously Teagan wasn’t the heir.

In Inphis, the way an heir was decided was by which child could wield the most zirilium.

If the children couldn't wield any, then the male was automatically picked, and if there was no male, then the oldest of them was chosen.

But royals often breed for the sole purpose of having children with multiple zirilium, so I imagine Byn could wield quite a few.

This was also, I believed, why my father had hidden me away—so nobody in the North would know that I was my father’s true heir, and not Dimitri.

“My lady?” I suddenly realized somebody was talking to me, and snapped back into the present moment.

The moment of my wedding .

“Repeat after me, please,” the officiant said.

Looking back into Byn’s eyes, I nodded, taking an ounce of comfort in his openness. I might not trust him or any of his people, but right now I had a role to play.

“I vow it,” I said, repeating after the officiant. What he had said I was vowing to, exactly, I wasn’t sure.

“Now you, King Thorntier. Repeat after me: ‘I vow it.’”

“I vow it,” Byn responded, not a bit of hesitation in his voice.

“By word and deed, you are now husband and wife,” the officiant said, making my heart race all over again.

“But there is one more step: action and law. Now, the ceremony will conclude with both King Robyn and Princess Aviva receiving the other’s family crest on their inner left forearm.

If you both would…” he said, trailing off as he motioned to the small table and chairs set off to the side, placed directly in front of Robyn’s side of the room.

Together, we moved to the side and sat across from each other, Teagan standing only to position my dress train just so, then returning to her seat. Robyn didn’t let go of my hand as we sat, and only let go once he moved to shrug off his green jacket and roll up the sleeve covering his left arm.

A young male dressed in various shades of brown and yellow walked onto the platform from the second row of the audience, carrying a box of supplies. Within moments, he was set up, and looking at me expectantly.

“Actually, Kent, I’d prefer to go first,” Robyn said, cutting in.

I looked from Kent back to Robyn in shock.

Usually in these types of things, the female would get tattooed first. But by offering to go first, Robyn was putting his trust in me.

If I wanted, I could fly out of the open ceiling after he got his tattoo and never look back, leaving him branded forever.

But where would you go? a quiet voice from deep inside of me asked.

“Alright, Your Majesty,” Kent said hesitantly, then turned his attention to Robyn.

I watched intensely for the next half hour or so as Robyn sat through getting tattooed with my family’s insignia and the symbol of the North: a flared wing with a crescent moon behind it.

The tattoo was done in plain black ink, no color, and simply looked like a branding—to me at least. Robyn didn’t flinch once, not even when the needles first touched his skin.

Then, it was my turn. I was feeling extremely warm, but I tried not to think about it. I laid my arm out on the table as Kent placed the pre-drawn stencil on my inner forearm and got ready to tattoo.

I was about to be tied to the South for the remainder of my existence. It was about to be permanently inked on my pale skin for the rest of my life. Even if I were to escape now, I could never truly know peace. I’d be wanted in both the North and South.

I watched the needles puncture my skin and felt my hope die along with it.

After another half hour, Kent was done. I had stared at pieces of Robyn the whole time, and I noticed he watched intensely as his family’s insignia was inked onto my skin.

I looked at his shoes, which were brown combat boots that were somewhat scuffed—as if he thought he might have to hop into battle at any moment.

The sun shining through the canopy of leaves above us made his brown hair glow with hues of red.

The small scar on his jaw looked somewhat fresh, as though it had only been fully healed for a little while now.

Fortunately, he was so focused on the tattooing process he didn’t seem to notice me watching him. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he watched the needle puncture my skin repeatedly, and his smile had dropped.

I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about.

I looked down at my arm as Kent announced he had finished and stared at the fresh ink there. It was a wolf’s head with a sun behind it. The Southern royal family’s insignia. On my skin.

Forever .

I was now, officially, tied to them.

“In action and law, the tattooing has been completed. I now present to you for the first time as a wedded couple: King Robyn Thorntier and his wife, Queen Aviva Heartshire Thorntier!” the officiant announced, his voice booming throughout the room as the crowd rose from their seats and began clapping.

Robyn and I were led to the middle of the platform, where he lightly grabbed my sweaty hand in his and raised both his arms up, taking my arm into the air with his.

He positioned our arms so both of our fresh tattoos faced the crowd full of faces displaying disgust, excitement, hope, and disappointment, then said in a loud voice: “My people, meet your new ruler, Queen Aviva!”