Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m frozen with shock. I can scarcely breathe.
My heart tumbles in my chest, but rationally, I know my father has some ulterior motive, some scheme to play this in his favor—one where Mayah is no more than a pawn.
“Was my father made aware of this ‘change in plan’?” she asks icily, hands clenching the fabric of her tunic.
“Not yet,” my father says, his smirk colder than his heart, murdering hands steepled beneath his chin. “We weren’t even sure you were still alive. We’ll dispatch a message posthaste with the good news. And your decision.” He arches a brow. “You’ll marry my second son, yes?”
I need to do something.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tormik will never agree to this, and my father knows it. This is a trap. He’ll keep her here until she’s outlived her purpose, then he’ll kill her.
Mayah inhales shakily. “I—”
“I need to speak with Mayah.”
I grasp her wrist, ignoring my father’s protests as I drag Mayah from the room. In the hallway, I slam open the first door we see and lead us inside.
The council sits around a table, their animated discussion halting as we enter.
“Out,” I snarl. “Now.”
Chairs scrape against the stone floor as everyone rises and quickly exits. As soon as the door closes, Mayah turns on me.
“Did you know?” she hisses, jabbing a finger into my chest, eyes blazing with anger.
I raise my hands in surrender. “I swear I didn’t, Mayah. When I left Arbinj, it was to bring you here to marry my brother.”
She swallows hard, pacing the room.
“If your brother marries the Volcan princess, and I wed you, Arbinj will have ties to both Volca and Tundrayn. It’ll be stronger than ever.”
“Yes.” My eyes track her across the room as she paces like a caged wolf.
“Faramir will be king of Arbinj and Volca. And when I become queen … you’ll be king of Tundrayn. Your father means to control my kingdom while giving nothing of his own power.”
“Yes,” I repeat, hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. I want to tell her we can leave, escape the palace—but there’s no place her father and mine would leave unchecked to find us. Assuming she’d even want to leave with me.
Or I could take her back to Tundrayn and never see her again. My heart rebels at this unbearable outcome, but it’d be what’s best for her. She’d be safe.
Mayah leans against the large window, staring down at the capital. “And if I refuse to marry you…” she says quietly, “your father could have me thrown into the dungeons. Killed. Or worse.” She turns to face me. “He won’t let me return home.”
I approach her cautiously. “No. He won’t.”
She takes a shuddering breath. “Your father wants me to refuse. Wants me to give him a reason.”
I can do nothing but nod. She’s rationalizing the situation to herself—talking through her options. I pray she’ll decide to leave. With me.
But I need her to make that decision.
She’s quiet for minutes, simply staring at the capital.
Then—“Yes.” Her voice is quiet. “I’ll marry you.”
Her words hit me like a storm, so jarring, I’m left breathless. I thought she’d ask me to take her home to Tundrayn.
But marry her?
I’ve thought about this possibility countless times over the last few weeks. Mayah, mine.
But not like this. Fuck, not like this. Not when she’s choosing the lesser of two evils. Not when she’s backed into a corner, fighting to survive.
Not when she doesn’t love me.
“Mayah…” I murmur, mouth twisting. “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I do. If I refuse, there will be no alliance. Your father will make me vanish. Or he could attack Tundrayn. That is, if my father doesn’t attack first. War will ravage the realm. I have to marry you.” She looks uncertain. “Unless … unless there’s someone else.”
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “There’s no one else.” Only you. “It’s just—” Fuck. “It should be your choice.”
She rests a hand on my arm. “This is my choice,” she whispers softly, staring up at me with those impossible blue eyes. “I’m choosing to survive.”
Not like this, Mayah. I can’t. Skies damn me into the earth, I can’t—
She steps closer, the toes of her boots touching mine.
I’m about to say the words, I’ll take you back to Tundrayn, when she speaks.
“Well?” she murmurs. “Will you marry me, Zev?”
Her proposal erases my every thought. She’s under duress, I know this, and still, her words make my chest ache.
Mayah, my wife.
I study her beautiful, earnest face. How can I refuse her?
Perhaps we can both get what we want. She wants this alliance—safety for her people, both from Arbinj and the Rebellion.
And I want her.
She doesn’t love me … but perhaps she will over time. I’ll be a better husband to her than Faramir ever would. Than anyone would. I’ll cherish her, keep her safe and happy. I’ll protect her from any and every threat. Maybe this is for the best.
Gently, I cradle her face, resting my forehead against hers.
Then—“Yes,” I rasp. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
I trace her cheek reverently. Mayah is to be my wife.
“I should have done this the night we danced beneath the stars,” I murmur. “Know that it will always be my greatest regret.”
And then I kiss my betrothed.