Nor am I convinced Dayn will find a way to cancel this wedding before the ceremony. Then again, a bloody divorce could still be on the table.
20
ESME
Bells toll through Draethys, bouncing off cave walls and echoing back through winding streets. Each resonant clang makes my stomach twist tighter as I stare at the stranger in the mirror.
“You look so beautiful,” Nyssa whispers beside me.
The gown weighs a ton. Diamond-crusted silk cascades in suffocating layers, my waist practically disappearing beneath a gold filigree belt that could buy a small country. Rubies and opals dig into my bare shoulders, holding the whole monstrosity together.
“I shouldn't even be here,” I mutter.
My reflection stares back with unfamiliar elegance. Nyssa has woven gold thread through my black hair, transforming it into something that belongs in a painting, not on my head. Diamonds swing from my ears with each shallow breath. My pulse hammers against my throat.
“You'll have the king's protection now, not just Lord Daynthazar's,” Nyssa says. “That's worth something.”
“I should be home with my coven fighting clearbloods, not playing dress-up in a cave.” I turn to face her. “This is a farce.”
“Yet you've made a life here.”
“A life? They despise me, Nyssa.” I gesture toward the doorwhere dragons wait. “I'm the darkblood freak who drank fire and lived. They're just deciding whether I'm a weapon or garbage.”
Nyssa steps back, her hands falling away from the last diamond pin in my hair. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror.
“In less than an hour, you'll be Lady Draxion,” she says quietly.
“He promised he'd stop this.” The words taste bitter on my tongue.
“And you think he didn't try?” Nyssa's reflection frowns.
I turn away from my own image, arms crossed tight enough to crush rubies against my skin. “I have no idea what he did or didn’t do. But‘try’is never enough.”
“It's your life or your freedom, Esme.” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “The elders are fracturing. I’m seeing the signs now. Lord Daynthazar is the only thing standing between peace and chaos.”
Something cold slithers down my spine.
The walls of Draethys suddenly feel like a cork in a volcano. An entire underground kingdom of firebreathers, divided and angry. One dragon had been terrifying enough at Heathborne.
“Just survive the ceremony,” Nyssa says, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from my gown. “Tomorrow, you can hate him properly in private.”
“When did you get so damn pragmatic?” I mutter, letting my arms fall to my sides.
“When I started serving the royals,” she replies.
The ceremony hall stretches before me like a cathedral carved from obsidian, every surface gleaming in torchlight. Hundreds of dragons stand in rigid formation, their black and silver formal attire a stark contrast to my blinding white-and-gold gown. Nyssa stopped me from darkifying the wedding dress, saying it would only inflame the situation worse. And right now I don’t need anything to be worse.
The dragons’ expressions range from thinly veiled disgust to cold curiosity, most of them a mixture.
“Breathe, Esme,” Anees murmurs beside me as we proceed down the endless aisle. “Your hands are trembling.”
“Wouldn't yours be?” I mutter back.
Massive brass braziers line the hall, their flames reaching toward the vaulted ceiling. White ribbons and gold thread adorn black stone pillars. Drummers positioned against the walls pound out a rhythm that matches my racing pulse. I can’t help noticing that the colonel's daughter—that Rogon woman—hasn't shown. Smart girl. If I'd had any choice in the matter, I wouldn't be here either.
At the altar, Bemmar waits with the impassive face of an executioner. And there's Dayn—my supposed groom—clad in a midnight-dark suit veined with gold, his jaw tight as our eyes lock. His amber eyes are molten, and for a stupid, traitorous heartbeat, the world narrows to just the two of us. A jolt, sharp and unwanted, sparks in my veins, and I have to clench my fists to keep from showing it. He looks away first, his expression unreadable as I reach the altar.
Just get through this farce,I remind myself.This marriage can't possibly be binding in the real world. I'll escape eventually. I have to.
