Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
The city was always strange on Choosing days.
Somberness hung heavier in the air than humidity at the peak of summer.
But bubbling just under the surface was a tremor of excitement, the hustle and bustle of townsfolk preparing for the festivities to follow.
Even the air held a hint of sweetness from all the flowers carted in and cakes being baked.
Because after the dragon’s bride was selected, the other women were free to wed. And they always did—in masses.
After all, the few months after the selection of the dragon’s bride were the only time they could.
Once the winter snows returned, the elders would put a stop to it until the next Choosing in five years.
The dragon always had first pick, and to slight him by marrying before one could be chosen as his bride?
Well, that was to invite his wrath upon the land.
It had happened before. Some said the plague that took Briannis’s parents and younger brother, along with a host of others, was because Niama wed Gerrick in secret a year before her first Choosing.
The wagon jolted as they rounded a turn and neared the thick press of people near the city center. Briannis gripped the wooden seat hard to steady herself where she rode at the front next to Uncle Euan.
“Euan!” Aunt Davina squealed. “Don’t tip her off now that we’re finally here.”
“Well, if you all hadn’t taken so long readying yourselves…” he grumbled as he slowed the horses. They approached a few other parked wagons and came to a stop. It was as close as they were going to get.
“Hmph!” Her aunt stood in the back of the wagon and brushed off the skirts of her dress before leaping over the side to the ground like a woman younger than her years. But that was Aunt Davina. She had more determination and enthusiasm than most women half her age…in everything.
“Next time, you can wrangle these young ones.” She scowled at her four children before shaking her head with a sigh and holding out her arms for them to jump off into them.
Ranging from five to sixteen, they were a handful.
Each had the fire of their mother that burned just as bright as their red hair, a trait Briannis shared.
Quite the opposite of her uncle, who was calm as the stream that trickled through their fields and had brown hair dark as the soil.
He had a talent with animals and Briannis had learned much from him.
If only she could develop his patience too.
“I should probably go on ahead,” Briannis said after she climbed down.
The city center was an open park filled with grassy fields, artful flower beds—which might currently be getting trampled by all the people—and a few large shade trees with sprawling limbs and thick roots dotted here and there.
Various pathways converged in the middle where a large circle of flat stones known as the Seal of the Fates was inlaid in the ground.
Any matter of significance happened there, from weddings to trials, and of course, the Choosing.
A large stage had been erected on top of it for the ceremony.
Already, young women in white were ascending the stairs and lining up.
Aunt Davina looked over her shoulder toward the stage and muttered a curse.
“I’ll find you all after,” Briannis promised with a smile and a little wave.
“Briannis!” Her aunt called. “Wait!” Aunt Davina’s lips twitched. Her throat bobbed, and the woman’s controlled expression faltered and dimmed.
Briannis blinked, stunned. That couldn’t be tears in her eyes, could it? Before she could take a closer look, her aunt pulled her into a crushing hug that half knocked the breath from her lungs.
“I love you, dear girl,” she whispered, petting the bright, autumn waves of her hair that they’d painstakingly tried to tame before their departure.
“If the worst should happen—” She let out a choked sound, which turning into an oomph as the younger ones joined in on the hug, clinging to their sides and legs.
Uncle Euan was the last to join, wrapping his big arms around them all.
Briannis’s throat grew tight. Something prickled at the corners of her eyes. Suddenly, all the courage she’d taken for granted seemed to crack and crumble at the onslaught of affection and her family’s fear.
What if she was chosen? What if she didn’t see them again? The urge to cling to those she loved had never been quite so strong. But there were so many women…the odds were so slim...
With a deep breath, Briannis started to pry herself from their embraces.
“Really, I’ll be fine.” She blinked away the beginning of tears trying to form. “It’s not my first Choosing, after all.” But it would be her last.
Though next time Catronia, the oldest of her cousins, would be in the running, and that was suddenly more terrifying than being chosen herself.
Briannis forced that worry to the back of her mind.
There was nothing to be done about it. “I’ll see you all after.
And then maybe we can find some of those sweet cakes you all love?
” She ruffled her youngest cousin’s hair and gave them all a smile full of all the blinding confidence she no longer felt.
Finally freed, she turned and headed off, ignoring the sweet words they called after her that tried to tear open her heart. It wouldn’t do any good to be a sobbing mess on the stage. Some women would be, but not her.
The crowd parted for her and she hurried toward the stage. But as she neared the stairs where the women were ascending once their name was checked off the register, someone grabbed hold of her arm.
The unexpected touch caused her to jolt and twist in an attempt to get away.
“Briannis!”
She stilled at the sound of her name. “Ian?”
Sunlight caught in his blonde hair as he tipped his head to the side. His strong jaw lifted in an expression caught somewhere between a grin and confusion. “I’ve been calling after you. Did you not hear me?”
He removed his hand from her arm. Though broad and strong, it wasn’t calloused like those of the men who worked the fields. The softness was a reminder of the privileged life he was born into as the firstborn son of a wealthy merchant.
“Over all this?” Briannis nearly laughed as she gestured around. It was far from quiet with everyone pressing in toward the stage and talking with a mixture of worry and excitement. “Besides, I’m almost late. The ceremony will be starting soon.”
“That’s what I hoped to talk to you about.” He took both of her hands in his.
A sinking feeling bloomed in the pit of her stomach. She looked toward the stage, practically begging the elder taking down all the women’s names for help, but the woman didn’t notice her.
“Soon you’ll be free to wed,” Ian said, drawing her attention back to him. “And you must know how I feel about you.” A flush rose to his fair cheeks.
Oh no… Not again.
“So before anyone else can ask you, I—”
“Oh, Ian,” she chided with her best bashful smile. “You know it’s bad luck to talk about such things before the ceremony.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “Bri, I—”
She shook her head and tugged her hands away, trying to hide her grimace. She hated that nickname. How could he not remember that? “We’ll speak after,” she promised and hurried away.
He was a nice man, wealthy, respected, reasonably handsome, and by all accounts kind, but not her man.
He wanted a happy little wife who would bear his kids, see to the family’s well-being, and not seek anything for herself beyond that.
That was certainly not her. She had too much ambition.
Had already worked too hard to learn everything from Aunt Davina in the hopes of continuing the family business.
She wasn’t about to give that up for some man she didn’t really love, no matter the potentially comfortable life he offered. Why couldn’t he understand that?
For months, she’d held out hope he’d come to that conclusion on his own, but no. She’d have to break his heart definitively this time...after the Choosing.