Chapter 36
Hours before Heartfall, Vander has a dress delivered that is barely a dress at all.
It’s clear, liquid fabric that does exactly what he intended. It shows every one of my markings, and my sword tucked against my spine. Thicker fabric barely covers small places, hardly keeping me decent.
I stare at myself in the mirror, at all the silver, glimmering through the gossamer. For as long as I can remember, I’ve avoided looking at my naked body. It’s been a source of shame. Of sadness. Of fear.
Now I look. I look, and for once, I am not disgusted. I might not have had enough to eat for many years, but I am strong. This body has gotten me this far. I am capable, and maybe Vander is right. Maybe these silver markings are not a curse.
Because I’m silver, just like my dragon. Just like my sword. And they, I think, are magnificent.
Maybe I could be too.
I take a steadying breath, running my eyes down my dress again. Down my skin. I am not wrong, I think to myself. I am sky-touched.
And everyone in this castle is about to know it.
The festivities are about to begin. The estate is full of attendants who are running around, putting the finishing touches on the decorations.
The gates, usually closed, are now wide open.
Dragons and other majestic creatures have started landing outside them, making the ground lurch every few moments.
I walk into the stables, careful not to get my heels in the mud.
Raker’s head is hanging down, his wrists shackled above him. “Tell me that awful music is going to stop,” he growls, referring to the violinist who’s been practicing for the last hour. I think it sounds lovely. I roll my eyes.
“Of course you don’t like music.”
His head snaps up. “I don’t like—” His eyes widen, then narrow as he takes in the sheer dress.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he demands.
I lift a shoulder, and the fabric shifts. “It’s a dress,” I say through my teeth.
He frowns. “All I see is you.” He says it like that fact is horrifying.
I lift my chin, refusing to let him make me feel anything but beautiful right now. Anything but strong. “Vander gave it to me. He said everyone would like it.”
“Did he now,” he says slowly, deep voice rumbling. Even chained, he sounds fearsome. I might be afraid of him if I hadn’t known him for weeks.
“Yes. Not everyone finds me as repulsive as you do.”
His lip curls in disgust. Something flashes in his eyes, something I can’t read. “Is that it? You’ve become enamored with the immortal?” He laughs, like I’m a fool.
I don’t even deign to answer his question. I just take a step forward, watching his gaze slide up my dress, up my body, until his eyes meet mine.
In a flash, I produce my sword. I dig it into the ground between us and sink to his level, both hands clutching the hilt.
I don’t know how this works, but I have a feeling Raker does. He’s had his sword longer than I have. He has royal training.
“Swear on my sword,” I say. “Swear you will help me reach the end.”
Seeing the map in Vander’s castle has shown me just how precarious this alliance is. Raker could betray me at any point. I need an oath.
I was right. He doesn’t look shocked at all. If anything, he looks bored. He lifts a brow. “Someone learned a new trick.” Fury rises. He manages to always make me feel like a fool.
I lean forward, until I’m just a breath away from him. “Someone is chained to a gods-damned stable wall. Swear on my sword.”
He just blinks. “Don’t trust me yet? I’m wounded.”
“You would be dead if it wasn’t for me.”
“Same to you, Aris.”
“Swear it.” Spit flies with the intensity of my words, landing on him. He looks at me with nothing short of contempt. Then, his gaze shifts to my hair. It’s down, loose waves to my waist. His frown deepens.
He leans forward to say right into my face, in a voice that is brutally quiet, “This might have worked, Aris, if you didn’t need me.
You won’t survive the rest of the way without me.
” He says it like it is fact. He says it like an insult.
He looks me up and down in a way that has me burning with anger and shame.
“I’ve never sworn upon anyone’s sword, and yours will not be the first.”
We stare at each other for a moment longer.
“Fine,” I say, rising and pulling my sword out of the muddy ground. I clean it on his armor, making him bare his teeth at me. “You’re not the only one I’ll be asking to swear on my sword. After tonight, I might not need you at all.”
Then I turn around and leave him chained to the fucking wall.
Vander Evren knocks on my door minutes to midnight.
He’s wearing silver armor that matches his hair in its brilliance. Up close, I can see delicate lines carved into it, ancient symbols and sweeping designs. He gives me a quick glance that doesn’t linger.
“Perfect,” he says.
I’ve never been called such a thing in my life. He offers his arm, and I take it.
The music is getting louder as we stroll down the empty halls. Everyone is already inside. Vander told me to wait until he came to my door, to make the best entrance. I’ve been hearing footsteps, quiet voices, and attendants for hours. Apparently, the festivities will last well into the morning.
Nerves flurry through my stomach.
“Immortals … they marry, then?” I ask. He nods. “Do they … do they take oaths? On their swords?”
Vander does something completely unexpected—he laughs.
“Oaths are sacred,” he says matter-of-factly.
“So are marriages,” I say, remembering my parents’ own. They didn’t swear an oath. There was no ancestral sword, or weapon, to swear upon.
He tilts his head at me in curiosity. “Most are not” is all he says.
I can hear all the strings of the song now, a violin weaving together with other instruments I don’t recognize. It’s like a glimmering pulse, making my own heart quicken as we get closer and closer to the ballroom.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says.
“I’m not,” I insist quietly.
He snorts. “I can hear your heart racing. It’s a bit concerning.”
I clench my jaw. Sometimes I forget how different immortals are from us. How much more powerful. And I’m about to put myself in the middle of a room filled with the worst of them. I’m about to show them the secrets across my skin. I’m about to rely on them to make it to the end of the quest.
We reach the main doors, and my chest locks up. What if I can’t do it? What if I came all this way only to fail?
Vander looks over at me. “The entrance is important. Many heirs and heiresses have entire demonstrations to show their worth.”
My eyes widen. “I—I don’t have anything planned,” I stammer, nerves spinning, making me feel light-headed.
He lifts a lazy shoulder. “You’re arriving on my arm. That’s enough.”
I take a breath as we both face forward again. I straighten my spine. I might not feel completely confident, but I must look it. “You think highly of yourself.”
“Yes,” he admits. “But I’m also right.”
The doors open.
And everything goes quiet.
We’re standing at the top of a long marble staircase, leading into a grand ballroom. Below, hundreds of hungry, glimmering eyes are on us. Most are widened.
Even the music has stopped. With a sharp look from Vander, the musicians start again.
I stiffen. “Everyone is looking at me like they want to kill me,” I murmur.
He makes an amused sound. “No, just some of the women. Most of the men are looking at you with a very different purpose.”
My cheeks heat, and he smiles. He reaches down and lifts my chin, so my eyes meet his. “You are silver. Marked by the gods themselves. They should be doing nothing short of going down on their gods-damned knees.”
I swallow. It almost hurts. “I don’t see you kneeling, immortal,” I say.
His smile grows. “Soon enough, human,” he says. “Soon enough.”
Then we start down the stairs.
I’ve never seen so many beautiful people in my life.
These immortals are dressed in their very best, an array of dramatic fabrics that melt into a sea of glimmering color.
One gown is made up of giant rose petals, the edges beaded in lilac, the rest slightly sheer.
Another is made of purple gossamer that glows ethereally, as if made with those star-woven fabrics from the Traveling City.
Another immortal has only a band around her chest and a flowing skirt—expertly illustrated metallic paint upon her body covers the rest. Yet another dress is made of high metal chain mail cut into an elegant form.
Another is made up of a mosaic of shining onyx dragon scales.
The fabrics are like a map of Starside, showing the rarities from every corner. It’s not just the women—some of the men are also dressed ornately.
Vander was right. All of these are statements, outfits crafted from rare materials to show worth and wealth, like the guests themselves are weapons to be desired and claimed.
“These are all heirs?” I say, frowning, remembering the family trees.
Vander shakes his head slightly. “No. But they’re all nobles. Heirs and heiresses are preferred matches, but there aren’t enough of us. Other nobles might have something advantageous to offer. Relics, perhaps. Mines. Skills in war.”
I snort, earning me a horrified look from a woman in a dress made from the scales of what must be a rare, luminous fish. “So marriages are just alliances.”
He looks over at me. “Precisely.”
When we reach the bottom, he takes my hand and bows. Just like we practiced.
The rest of the couples give us room. There are whispers, and I hear pieces of them.
Silver, they all say, staring at my markings. Staring at my sword.
Human.
Silver human.