Marriage in the Tethered North

Prologue

Emilia

Ithought the worst thing about this evening would be sitting through ninety minutes of football.

The floodlights hum high above the field, and the air buzzes with teenagers left to their own devices after school. My brown leather jacket covers my burgundy uniform, helping to keep out the winter chill.

“What are you doing?” I grimace as Sam tilts his can of whipped cream into his mouth and pulls the trigger. “You’re disgusting.”

My best friend grins through a mouthful of foam.

“Come on, Mils. Lighten up!” Before I can respond, he snatches my hand, tugging me from the cold, splintered bench.

“Molly!” he calls across the field, voice carrying through the small crowd scattered across the pitch.

His girlfriend waves, her dark ponytail bouncing as she jogs over from the other side with a familiar sweet smile that’s full of obsessive love.

“Sam, baby!” she practically coos, throwing her arms around his neck. I swallow the smirk that threatens to spread across my face. “Emilia,” she adds, sparing me a quick glance, sugary grin and all, before turning back to him.

“Hey,” I say, just as a whistle pierces the evening air.

“I’ve got to go. Kayla’s waiting.” Molly pouts before pressing a quick kiss to Sam’s cheek and skipping off, her heavy Chanel perfume washing over me as she does so.

“Isn’t she… just amazing?” Sam mutters, watching as his girlfriend rejoins her friends on the other side of the field.

I roll my eyes. “You’re a fucking mess,” I say as I sink back onto the bench. The wood is cold beneath my bare skin, and I shiver, crossing my legs and winding the jacket tighter around my body. “She’d be better if she had nicer friends.”

He rolls his eyes, sitting beside me, elbows resting on his knees as he scans the pitch for this evening’s players.

The footballers are warming up at their respective ends of the pitch.

The captain of our team, Rayden, barks orders, his deep voice cutting clean through the chatter.

On the opposite side of the pitch, on the stone steps that lead up towards the rest of the park, Molly and her friends chuckle between themselves, the ever-perfect Kayla front and centre, staring at Rayden like she’s ready to devour him.

Never mind the fact that he was my boyfriend last month.

I scoff, tearing open a bag of prawn cocktail crisps and batting Sam’s hand away when he reaches for one.

“Should’ve brought your own.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Emilia, hey!” A somewhat familiar redheaded girl and her friend both wave at me as they walk past us. I give them a quick smile, before returning my attention to Sam.

“Me?” I retort, arching a brow. “I’m not the one who dragged their friend here when all they wanted to do was go straight home and do homework—”

“Liar.”

I give him an angelic grin and pop another crisp into my mouth. He’s right—the day I do homework willingly will be the day pigs fucking fly.

“You wanted to go home to avoid Kayla and Rayden.”

I give him an unamused look. “Can you blame me?”

“How long for this time?”

I shrug. “Until he loses interest in her.”

Another couple of girls give me a wave as they pass us.

Sam nudges my shoulder, staring down at the packet in my hands. “Come on, give me a crisp!”

“No.”

Sam smirks. “Guess I won’t be sharing my Double Decker with you at halftime.”

The crisp catches in my throat and my eyes water, a cough spilling through my lips. He thumps my back until I manage to swallow. Turning to him, I glare, slowly extending the bag towards him.

He grins, reaching for a crisp. “Thanks.”

“You play dirty.”

“It’s not my fault chocolate’s your weakness.”

“No. It’s your fault that I’m here, though.”

I’d have killed for my pyjamas and a film, but no… Friday night team spirit apparently trumps what I want. Half the players go to our school, and Sam’s been a die-hard fan of this team since we were twelve.

I continue to pick at my crisps, the air chilling by the minute, and pretend to watch as the referee blows the whistle and the game begins, but I’m mostly scrolling through my phone, crumbs coating my fingers as I finish my snack.

The news app keeps flashing with headlines: conflict, rising tensions, peace treaties being abandoned… I swipe past every single one, stopping instead on a celebrity breakup story, and then a new post from Kayla, who’s pouting at the camera like she’s a famous model.

A cheer erupts, pulling me back to reality, and I glance up just as the ball flies into the net.

Rayden throws his arms into the air, teammates piling onto his back, celebrating his goal.

Sam whoops from beside me, and across the field, Molly and Kayla jump up and down, clapping and cheering like he doesn’t do this every week.

Despite it all, as Rayden laughs, I can’t hold back the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. My fingers tighten a little around my phone as I watch the way his hand winds together with one of his teammates, yanking him in for a hug and clapping him on the back.

Heat prickles at the base of my neck, and I quickly tear my gaze back to my phone, worried that I might give myself away, or that he might spot me.

As the game continues, I flick between watching it and scrolling through my phone. I fold my empty crisp packet into a square before slipping it into Sam’s coat pocket. His brow furrows as he catches me, and I flash him a guilty, apologetic smile.

He opens his mouth to say something, just as a plane rumbles overhead.

It’s low.

The sound vibrates through the concrete beneath my feet, and my gaze snaps up.

Lower than I’ve ever seen.

The plane emerges from the clouds, a dark silhouette against the pale grey sky. The noise grows quickly until it’s almost painful, and my stomach drops.

“Sam,” I whisper.

He frowns at the sky before rising from the bench; I follow, school bag abandoned on the floor. My lips part as huge jet engines roar overhead.

Even the game has stopped.

Rayden stands frozen at the centre of the pitch, the ball forgotten at his feet. Around us, the crowd murmurs, clearly uneasy. I tear my eyes back to the sky. The first plane is soon joined by more—seven, eight, nine—each enormous and ominous, casting long shadows over the entire field.

“What the hell…” someone mutters nearby.

My heart pounds harder. The sky, just moments ago dull and quiet, is now a mass of metal and thunder.

A distant splutter, followed by a boom, rolls through the air, and my gut clenches.

Something falls.

Dark specks tumble from the planes like raindrops. Dozens. Hundreds.

And everything inside me goes cold.

The first one hits the far end of the pitch with a quiet thud before settling there, silent. One second… Two seconds…

An explosion tears through the field. The ground convulses beneath my black dolly shoes, and a deep, bone-shuddering roar echoes around me. Dirt, smoke, and shrapnel rip through the air. People fall, and others scream, immediately pushing, tripping, and scrambling for an escape.

“Sam,” I manage, but he’s already running, bolting across the field.

His arm catches Molly’s wrist, dragging her towards the car park.

Rayden is seconds behind him, sprinting towards the girls.

Kayla’s face locks on his, bright and wide-eyed, but he barrels past her, pulling his sister, Lola, into his arms instead.

Kayla’s friends flank her, their shrieks cutting through the chaos as they begin climbing the stairs to the park. A dark shape hurtles down, smashing into the top step. Stone cracks, and a second later, the object detonates with a deafening crack.

I stumble back, nearly falling over the bench as my knees buckle. My fingers grapple for the wood, keeping myself upright as smoke fills my lungs.

More bombs fall. More explosions rip through the field.

I run.

My legs are numb, lungs immediately burning. Bodies litter the already blackened grass, and the stench of burning metal and flesh merges with the smoke.

And still, I sprint—as fast as I can, ignoring everyone and anyone around me.

Rounding the corner from the sports pitches, I freeze, heart in my throat. The office block beyond the car park is half obliterated, engulfed in flames, fire licking at the remaining windows, smoke billowing into the sky.

There’s a blast to my right, and the force of it slams into me as fiercely as a truck, hurling me sideways.

I hit the tarmac hard, debris raining down on me. For a moment, everything is silent, and then my ears scream, ringing high-pitched and endless.

Pain shoots up my right leg, and my head pounds so hard that I screw my eyes shut. Lifting a shaky hand to my hair, I find it sticky and wet, and the spot stings. Something heavy pins my leg to the ground, and a throbbing agony has me almost instantly screaming.

My head falls back as I whimper, and my arms lift, winding around to protect it. Around me, numerous screams rise and fall. Smoke rolls over me, thicker than fog.

Sam’s gone. Rayden’s gone. Molly. Lola. Even Kayla.

I’m utterly alone.

My parents will be in the living room, our cockapoo at their feet, reading to their hearts’ content; my brother gaming in his room, headphones drowning out the world.

No one is here to save me.

The sky burns above, a patchwork of grey and black and orange.

And I just sob into my arms, waiting for death.

After all, there are far more casualties in war than there are survivors.