“You don’t think we should go directly to the chapel to be married?” No matter how much I want to delay a union with Mael, the thought of leaving this room, risking someone noticing the red in my hair, facing Ryker’s hatred… the thought is unbearable.
“It’s impossible,” Eva says, her tone clipped but not unkind, “Mael is expected to be with Ryker for The Rising of the Champions ceremony. That’s probably the only reason no one has come for you yet. Everyone is too busy.”
My hands twist in my lap, the silk gloves creaking softly. “Eva, will you please talk to him for me? Tell Ryker that I?—”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Eva cuts me off, her expression softening. “Once you’re safe from the Church, you and Ryker can talk all you want. But until then, you must not draw any attention to yourself. Act as usual. If the court learns, there’s no redemption even if you’re wed to Mael. And then even he might change his mind. And if he does…” She shakes her head.
I look down. “Then my fate will be set.”
“Exactly.” Eva squeezes my shoulder gently. “You have to stay strong, Ray. You have to see this through. Not just for yourself, but for those who’ll suffer if women like us aren’t at court, pushing for change.”
I nod, swallowing hard as I glance at the dress laid out for me. Apparently, my defiance against the Archpriest has made me quite famous. Eva said her chambermaid had come to work that morning with a crimson wildflower in their hair.
To be marked, chained and taken away, trampling the fragile hope I might have raised in the minds of others, makes me ill. But an even greater part of me feels like a coward. Instead of standing tall and proud before the people who’d be so quick to condemn me, I’m in this room, furtively hiding.
My gown is a modest shade of blue and Eva wears a bold yellow. The color is deliberate, meant to draw attention away from me. She pulled gloves over her arms, ensuring her appearance mirrors mine as closely as possible. We are a set, specifically coordinated so that no one will question why my hair is arranged so precisely instead of my usual loose waves.
As I rise and step into the dress, Eva adjusts the fabric, smoothing it over my shoulders. Then she crosses her arms, her expression hardening. “I’m going to say this once, and you’re going to listen.”
I blink. “What?”
“You need to stop wallowing,” Eva says, her voice like steel. “Yes, this is terrible. Yes, it’s unfair. But your life isn’t over, Ray. You’re still here, still breathing, and you still have a chance. So get your head up, square your shoulders, and fight for what you want. Because no one else is going to do it for you.”
I stare at her, turning over her words, while my self-pity withers beneath her stern gaze.
My mind drifts back to that day: sitting numbly on the floor, waiting for something that never came. Clinging to the fragile hope that Ryker might still save me, mend me.
And then, at last, accepting Mael’s proposal not as a choice, but as surrender. As the quiet end of… me. I haven’t been able to imagine a future beyond this wedding. I never even tried.
You’re still here, still breathing, and you still have a chance.
Fight for what I want. Not just survive. Not just endure. Fight.
Before, I fought for the memory of my mother. For the women who’ve been so badly mistreated, and the young girls of the future who might be spared that fate.
Now, I need to fight for myself.
I inhale sharply, feeling the tension in my shoulders form into something new and solid. I have spent too long drowning in fear, waiting for the world to decide my fate.
No more.
If this is the path before me, I will carve my own way through it.
Even if my heart is beyond repair, there are thousands of Rust Hollow women who never had the chance I’ve been given, whose curses were left entirely on their shoulders, while the men who caused them walked free.
At least mine is willing to carry part of the burden.
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am,” Eva says with a fierce smile and then she wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace. “You’re stronger than this. Don’t forget it.”
I close my eyes, soaking in each word like the warmth of a small fire on a freezing night.
When I pull back, my grip on the moment is steady. My voice does not waver.
“I won’t,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Eva says. “We still have to get you through this day.”
