I hold in a gasp, trying to hide my shock. “Are you certain?” I consider Father’s recent behavior, and it starts making sense. A good number of our servants have been dismissed, and our meals haven’t been quite as lavish. Every time Chess orders a new dress, Father nearly loses it.
“What are you two whispering about?” Erika calls out, her lips twisting into an unattractive pout in the mirror.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” I say as I continue to ponder this new revelation.
What if the lack of funds is precisely why Father hasn’t pressured me to find a match? For all I know, he doesn’t have a dowry available . . . I thought I’d just been lucky that he hadn’t forced me to marry one of the many stuffy lords I’d been introduced to.
“How do you know?” I whisper under my breath.
The seamstress looks up from her position at my feet, armed to the teeth with pins. “Servants talk.”
I shake my head. For Father’s sake, I hope the marriage isn’t one purely of convenience—I want him to be happy—but my first impressions of Lady Carlisle haven’t been the best. Over the last two weeks, she’s moved all her belongings in and commandeered our staff to prepare the most lavish wedding ball our manor has ever hosted. There is even talk that some of the royal family might attend tonight.
“Turn for me, dear,” the seamstress says.
When I face the floor-length mirror, I can’t stop the grin from forming despite the shocking information I’ve just received. The seamstress has completely outdone herself with my ballgown. The emerald satin shimmers in the glow of the lamps, mixed with fine swirls of gold filigree.
“Incredible,” I breathe. “Are we almost done here?”
“Almost,” the seamstress mumbles around the pins in her mouth. “Okay, done. Now step out and go get your hair done so I can make these final adjustments.”
I wince as one of the pins pokes me. “Ouch. Okay, fine, I got it. You don’t need to keep torturing me,” I joke.
“Lady Erika, get your arse over here,” the seamstress calls out. “Your hair will never curl—you might as well just give up now.”
I hold back a laugh as my sister huffs and gets to her feet, and we switch places.
Sera comes over and gets to work on my hair. Unlike my sisters’, my hair curls like a dream.
“Sometimes I swear Mother must have had an affair,” Chessa complains. “You look nothing like the rest of us.”
Her words hit me where it hurts, like they usually do. One would think I’d be used to the unkind comments about my parentage, but I struggle to feel like I belong as it is. The nasty insinuations are the absolute last thing I need.
I straighten my shoulders and look at Chessa through the mirror. “Don’t be jealous that I got all the good genetics.”
She rolls her eyes, and I look away. I can’t let her see how much her words get to me, or she’ll never stop.
Is there truth to them? Am I proof of Mother’s infidelity? Surely not. Father would have never stood for it . . . and yet the vague memories I have of her are not filled with love and care . . . I felt unwanted.
The sooner the twins are married off and out of the manor, the better. Despite Lady Carlisle’s threats, I have no desire to be married. I want more out of life than becoming some lord’s wife and birthing heirs who could potentially carry my affliction.
While I’ve never told anyone, I long to travel to far-off kingdoms—perhaps someone somewhere has a cure that could set me free from the dark. Marriage to one of Rakveren’s lords would only keep me trapped in an endless cycle of loneliness. If that is my lot, I might as well remain here.
The bonding ceremonyfor Father and Lady Carlisle was short and private, which is honestly almost shocking to me. Apparently, her children from a previous marriage are too busywith their families to deign to visit, so it was just us along with the priestess. Thankfully, we were dismissed after the ceremony for a few hours until we have to change into our ballgowns.
Lady Carlisle had not one but two elaborate gowns made for today. Personally, I think it the biggest waste, considering the first one was only seen by our small immediate family. I always thought of our family as wealthy, but Lady Carlisle’s spending habits give new meaning to the word. The way she flaunts her countless jewels at every opportunity seems frivolous at best. Who needs to wear diamonds dripping down one’s ears at the breakfast table? Lady Carlisle, apparently . . . though I guess she’s Lady Astoria now.
Chessa and Erika wanted two gowns as well, but Father put a stop to that. We had to make do with less formal dresses we already owned for the bonding ceremony.
My stomach roils as I walk through the main hall of our manor. The entire place is covered almost floor-to-ceiling with lilies and a wide array of gourds—it smells like death. I need to get out of here just to breathe.
Bursting out the front doors, I’m immediately hit by unexpected sunlight and flinch as its warm rays caress the bare skin of my arms. They tingle in an almost pleasant way.
Dear gods, am I starting to burn?I don’t know what I was thinking, coming out here this time of day, even though it’s usually overcast. Inevercome out until the sun has almost set, just to be extra cautious.
Icy fear hits me, and I step back into the shade of the manor. I’m not supposed to be out here. Am I going to be sick? What’s going to happen to me?
The crisp, cool air fills my lungs, and I breathe in deeply. The dichotomy of the sun’s warmth and the colder weather is deliciously invigorating. What if something has changed? Has my affliction lessened?
