Page 140 of Crown of the Courtesan

An ice sprite bows and hands Erah a golden box. Erah withdraws two daggers, both hilt and blade made of shimmering diamonds, placing them into our outstretched hands. “With these blades, bleed to signify your vow.”

I clench my teeth as we prick our own palms. Erah takes our blades, and we entwine our fingers, letting our dripping blood mix. A numbness overtakes me. It’s as if I’m watching from the outside; everything seems off-center. Unbalanced.

Erah ties a golden cord around our wrists, binding us tightly together. After the ice sprite presents two rings, we slide the plain gold bands etched with the Dead-Fae language onto each other’s ring fingers.

“With the exchange of these rings, I bind you evermore,” Erah says, iridescent lines unfurling from the gold metal, snaking intricately up our fingers like living cords.

With that, the Bonding Ceremony is complete. Magic tethers us, for better or worse. Now the only thing left is the actual wedding—the Bonded Matrimony.

“Go. Dance. Feast. Rejoice.” Success radiates from Erah’s amber eyes as she sits, ruffling her skirts. “Tomorrow, the sun is to bless your union as it blesses our empire every day. The wedding vows will finalize the remaining phase.”

Rett helps me slip my elbow-length silk gloves on and then lifts my knuckles to his lips. “My future bride.” His voice caresses like velvet. “Will you dance with me?”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He sweeps me across the dance floor, one hand clasping mine while the other firmly presses into the small of my back. We twirl between the other couples, all of them smiling and offering congratulations. As we move to the fast-beating music, Rett seems genuinely happy and proud, but when the song crescendos, I trip.

The marking on my finger burns, though Rett doesn’t seem bothered by his. He only draws closer as the orchestra finally slows, nuzzling into my neck, unaware of the thoughts I keep buried. I watch Erah over his shoulder as she accepts lavish gifts, celebrating our betrothal with a cunning smirk. Behind her, between the blurred shapes of gowns and tunics, I glimpse something that makes me take a second glance.

It couldn’t be, could it?

I make my apologies to Rett under the pretense of needing to relieve myself. He laughs and jokes with a circle of his close basilisk friends as I dodge through the crowd to find her.

I drink in every bit of her appearance. A far cry from her warrior leathers and breastplate, she dons a stunning ballgown of magenta gauze cinched high at the waist beneath her bust. Embroidered straps crisscross over her cleavage and exposed back, offering subtle glimpses of her smooth, russet skin. She grins at me, but my eyes are drawn up to her tiara, set with dangling teardrop diamonds that fall into her curled and coiffed pink hair. The largest gemstones rest on her forehead, suspended from delicate silver chains over her violet eyes. The light bounces, reminding me of stars twinkling on a calm night.

“Valora!” I stammer, “I—I didn’t know you would be attending tonight. I wasn’t even sure if it was you at first. Your gown almost makes you unrecognizable.”

“Would you prefer I wear my fighting leathers to a royal ball?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow.

My face flushes. “No, that’s not—I didn’t think you enjoyed dresses—that’s all I meant.”

“Don’t be immature,” she chastises, making me realize how much I missed her. “Women aren’t required to relinquish their femininity the minute they pick up a sword.”

She’s absolutely right, but my eyes slowly dart past her, searching. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I half-expect his shadowy form to walk around one of these sandstone pillars at any moment.

“He’s not here… if that’s who you’re looking for,” she says in a knowing whisper.

Something high in my chest crashes, and I choke slightly. “Good. He shouldn’t come here, not after that battle with Rett. Too many died—needlessly, I might add.” I cast her an assessing look. “Actually, you probably shouldn’t be here either.”

Complicated emotions muddle my mind. Valora isn’t aware that I know Ashland must kill me to break the curse placed on his kingdom. No matter how much I miss her, I can’t afford to trust her.

She will always be loyal to him first.

“Don’t worry about my presence here. My family’s fortune keeps many doors open, especially for those wishing to meet my father. Transgressions can often be overlooked with an Andarta last name and coin pouch. It’s both a blessing and a curse…” Nodding to a wealthy noblewoman, she adds, “The real reason I came tonight is to secure a favor from a friend, but I almost didn’t make it in time. I’ve only just arrived.”

She hooks her arm through mine and diverts us from the lingering crowds gathered at the edge of the ballroom. We keep strolling toward the reverberating orchestra, allowing the music to drown out our conversation so no one overhears us.

Barely audible, I whisper, “Did you find them? The missing girls?”

Valora’s lips tighten in a straight line and pain fills her eyes. She shakes her head, the teardrop diamonds bouncing as she leans in. The answer steals the breath from my lungs. I open my mouth to ask more, but she cuts me off before I can speak. “I’m assuming they’ve kept you abreast about your kingdom?”

“I’ve learned what happened. No thanks to you.” Every muscle in my body tenses, remembering how I begged her to tell me anything that might have been happening in Alexandria while I was captive. How she never relented—and now she asks that question of me so casually, like it’s nothing.

“Listen,” she urges, “we don’t have time to wax poetic over past choices, but I do want to help you now.”

“I’m in no need of your help. I have everything under control.”

“Don’t be a fool. I know exactly what you’re doing in this palace. The softness in your muscles proves you no longer remember the weight of a sword. You’ve grown weak.”

My brow furrows as her determined eyes meet mine. Sparks of challenge fly to meet my bitterness, crackling the air between us.