Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
“The ceremony should be here.” Rebeka lifted her hand, motioning around the room. “How beautiful the wedding would be in this room.”
“No.” Lazar shook his head. “It should be in Bucharest. Our palace of parliament is much grander.”
“Larger in size doesn’t mean better.” Istvan took a sip of his drink. “This building is the jewel of Eastern Europe, renowned and envied around the world. By far more beautiful. We will have the wedding here.”
They continued to talk about my future and my wedding to the asshole who was staring blatantly at women’s breasts near our group.
I glared at the floor, my fingers clutching the flute in my hand so tightly the glass cracked in protest. Except for the throbbing pain from my heels, I was numb.
I wanted nothing more than to slip out of the torturous shoes and let myself bleed away into the shadows. I doubted they would even notice.
My brain zipped around, trying to compute all that happened in a short time.
Caden’s “almost” declaration had left me buzzing with possibility and excitement, but this untimely marriage proposal had shot me down from the sky, ripping away any hope and exhilaration I had.
The bars of my gilded jail had been shrinking down on me so slowly, I didn’t notice until they crushed me.
“We have a lot to go over. Let’s meet after breakfast to go over the marriage contract. By then, the train should be in Prague.” Istvan’s words trickled into my head as the women discussed having two engagement parties, one in Bucharest and the other here.
“Prague?” Alexandru Lazar frowned, not looking pleased. “I hope you have extra security on it. I’ve heard Povstat is only getting bolder and stronger there.”
“Povstat is nothing more than what Sarkis’s army is here. Your own country has them. A bunch of thugs playing at a man’s game.”
Povstat the Rebels, and Sarkis the Protectors, were the most notable of the rebellion groups popping up, the ones fighting against both sides, gaining power with those in the middle ground between the pure fae and elite humans.
“They blew up two government buildings in the last two weeks there and four trains.”
“I have full confidence in my trained soldiers compared to some hooligans with overinflated confidence.” Istvan took a drink. “Now, can we get back to the union of your son and my daughter?”
Daughter?
My mind stopped on thoughts of my father and how different everything would be if he were still alive.
I’d marry Sergiu a hundred times if it would bring him back.
There wasn’t a day I didn’t miss him. His death was still an open wound.
So many things I did now were for him, to make him proud.
Although he was a tough, stern man with his troops, he had been fair and kind.
He was the type you wanted to work harder to impress and to earn his esteem.
I got to see his soft side, his kindness and warmth.
I never questioned his love and pride in me.
He defied his parents, falling in love with a woman they didn’t deem worthy of his stature.
She was poor. They never married, keeping their love a secret.
I didn’t even have a picture of her. Their love story was short, enough time for her to get pregnant and carry me to term, but fierce with passion.
My Uncle Andris said my father was never the same after her death.
Dad talked very little of her, but when he did, the reverence and love he felt for my mother was still obvious.
“Kicsim, your mother . . . she was so smart. I don’t think I ever had a chance at winning any battle when it came to her.
She was strong, funny, and her beauty . .
. she could drop me to my knees with a smile.
” He brushed a piece of hair off my face.
“You are so much like her. You have her black hair and eyes. You also have the same fierce nature. You don’t even realize how special you are.
Never accept anything less than your worth. ”
My father never moved on after her death, burning for her until his last breath.
He would never have wanted this for me.
Imaginary walls pressed into my chest, blocking the air to my lungs, panic crawling under my skin.
The party around me grew hazy and distant.
I had to get out of here. Every word they spoke about my impending fate crawled up my throat.
The need to scream, to smash my goblet onto the ground, had me clutching my glass harder.
“Excuse me.” I bowed my knees, turning before anyone could stop me, and hauled my ass toward the doors. Once out of sight, my walk evolved into a jog out of the room and down the passage.
Run. The demand shrieked at me over and over.
Tearing off my shoes, I chucked the heels down a hall as I ran up the stairs, my bare feet padding over the rugs, going higher and higher until the carpet became stone.
Clutching my dress, I felt like a version of a fairy tale I read about as a child, but instead of running away from the prince at midnight, I was running to him.
I was far past where any visitor was allowed, and everything here was unadorned and basic, the opulence saved for the guests far below.
My thighs burned as I pushed them up more and more stairs, my body automatically set on its course, knowing the route by heart.
Very few knew of this spot or cared to go there.
A gust of wind pummeled me as I shoved open the door. I stumbled back, goosebumps exploding over my skin. This high up, the chilly wind channeling off the river whipped around, tangling my hair into knots and burning inside my lungs.
Walking farther out into the night, the catwalk trailed along the burnt-red roof, weaving through the dramatic spires.
My feet padded away from the massive dome, the room I just left, the festivities far below, filled with smiles and laughter, their lives not destroyed under the sparkling chandeliers.
Lights glowed from the bridges and the fae palace across the river, the Danube glistening, resembling the stars in the sky. Up here, everything felt possible. Problems were far away. It was beautiful. Peaceful.
As children, Caden and I used the roof as our playground.
The older we got, we still found ourselves up here often, either sneaking a bottle of palinka or imported vodka from Istvan’s private collection, needing a place to let go of the demands and strains of life.
Here we had no responsibilities or pressures.
We could just be. I came a lot when my father died.
Rolling my hair into a knot, strands still whipped at my face as I strolled down the walk, my toes protesting at the freezing metal.
My heart fluttered, seeing what I hoped would be here.
A dark silhouette sat, legs dangling through the bars over a death drop. A bottle went to his lips, and he slammed back a gulp.
Silently, I strolled up to him, tucking up my dress so I could sit next to him and thread my legs through the bars.
I gazed out at the breathtaking view, inhaling a deep breath.
This was my favorite spot in the whole place.
It made me feel life could be happy. Free. That both sides could find harmony.
Staring at the fae side, the beauty of the architecture across the water was breathtaking. For one moment, I could imagine this city being one. Freedom to go anywhere. No sides. No us versus them. A life where Caden and I could have a picnic in the park and walk hand in hand, laughing and loving.
“You found me,” he muttered, handing me the bottle of palinka, the potency from the fruit-fermented brandy burning my nose from here. Growing up on this stuff had our tolerance for alcohol at unbelievable levels.
“I knew you’d be here.” I took a swig, the alcohol sizzling the back of my throat, warming my muscles.
“Really?” He took it back.
“It’s where we come when we want to fight the world.” I curled my arms over a rail, perching my chin on it. “Plus, I know you.”
“Yeah.” He huffed through his nose, procuring another drink. “I guess you do. The only one who really does.”
I looked over at him. He kept his gaze out, not meeting my eyes. He swallowed, letting silence fall between us, anger thrumming under his skin.
“Caden . . .” I croaked over his name, scared to push him, but I needed to know.
He twisted his head away from me, slightly shaking it.
“Talk to me.”
“Why?” he snapped back to me. “We should probably start learning not to. You’ll soon be confiding in your husband.”
“Stop.” My lip lifted in a grimace. “Don’t even start that shit. You think I want this? You think this is what I dreamed of? The man I wanted to spend my life with?”
“Then refuse.”
“Refuse?” A barked laugh tore at my throat. “Like it’s so easy.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t make this sound as if it’s simple.
I have nothing, Caden. Nothing.” When my father died, he didn’t have much besides a few trinkets that were sentimental but had no real value.
“Without your parents taking me in, I would have been on the streets. Just another worker in the Savage Lands trying to survive off a loaf of bread.”
“It doesn’t mean they own you. Can trade you like cattle.”
“Would you say no if your father said you had to marry some Polish princess to secure Hungary?”
“Yes!”
I tilted my head, my gaze drilling into him. He huffed again, wiggling beneath the weight of his lie. He knew he wouldn’t have a choice either. Our duty, defending our country, the human race, was in our DNA.
“Brex . . .” My name came out a choked whisper, thick with despair and frustration.
The tears I fought earlier returned full force, blurring my vision. Overwhelmed with grief, anger, heartbreak, and passion, I couldn’t get my mouth to move, to tell him I’d been in love with him for so long. He was all I wanted and who I wished to grow old with.
“I don’t want you to marry him,” he said softly, his brown eyes finding mine.