Epilogue
The rain stops just before it comes time for the announcement, leaving Fortblanche to dry.
I can hear my audience through the doors.
Their murmurs spill over me, hushed and anticipatory, filling the ballroom in the same manner they did less than a fortnight ago, when the Alaires foraged for their secrets as part of Noé’s first test. Briefly, I wonder whether any of the Weaver King’s guests debated turning down this second invitation, but the thought departs as quick as it comes.
I am certain all too many of them were eager to claim a spot at his side. To come as soon as they were called.
It sickens me, how quickly they all run back.
My betrothed has left me alone for this part of the night. Now his servants gather close around me in his stead, flocking like geese wherever I go. Even Bernard showed me deference on the walk from my quarters, rushing to fulfill my requests with an urgency that astonished me.
I feel my power over them like a sword in my hand, just as my fiancé promised, yet the satisfaction it brings me is shallow. I am full, too full, for anything but my rage.
To my left, Bernard whispers something in my ear: We are about to begin.
A pair of maids flutter around my skirts, the pale burst of my dress like an overturned lily, tossed to the stone. They spent nearly an hour lacing me into it earlier. Dark pearls bead along my neckline; clinging to my scalp, a silver caul bristles with more.
Aside from that, I wear no jewelry—only the pearls and the ring on my left hand.
If I took you as my wife, would you lie down beside me in peace, or slit my throat while I slept? It was not too long ago that my fiancé asked me that question. He will discover the truth soon enough.
I am in no way resigned to my fate. Whether my betrothed keeps his promise to break my seal after we are wed or not, I am certain our union is only the first battle of many.
He and I will have decades together in this estate.
I will play his game until I learn it better than him, and then, once I am confident enough in my own strength, I will win.
Ahead of me, the doors creak open, a familiar voice slipping through.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce my future bride, the winner of the Vainglory…”
I steel myself and go to meet my groom.