Page 53 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“Yes. That and the fact that the fate of our system hinges on my Bond.”

“And the fact that the prophecy is headed our way whether we’re prepared or not,” Ciara adds.

“What am I missing?” Tate’s head swivels toward me so fast I think it might come off.

“Nothing.” I cringe. “Just, we found out some information. Our Bond doesn’t like when we aren’t together. We have to find a way to Auralan.”

“I swear, I leave you both for two weeks and already it's more exciting than eight months at school.”

We all laugh and stay huddled with Tate between us as we take him up to his rooms. The three of us talk while he unpacks. Thirik has four planets along the Veil beyond the asteroid zone. Navigating through them isn’t hard, but if they need to evacuate, well, that’s a lot of really slow transports. King Urik has already begun preparations to bring essential personnel into the inner planets of Trea and Brinvik. The reality is that Thirik is essential for our system’s food. Their planets raise animals that supply the majority of our meat.

Treon is good for hunting animals, but they’re wild, and we don’t have very many empty fields of grazing animals. Mori has a beast they hunt locally, but with Mori being evacuated, we are in need of Thirik’s food more than ever. I guess that’s why my father sent part of our Terra quadrant there.

Ciara and Tate come with me to my fitting for my wedding dress, my Ceremony gown, and the ball gown for the night before. I also have a few other pieces we need to finalize for the week.

When we enter Julianna’s rooms, the scent of lavender oil hits me at the same time a stream of light blinds me. The wall of windows is currently open, filling the room with intense sunlight. Julianna looks up and hurries to draw the sheer curtains that soften the glare.

It feels horrible to be measured for multiple expensive gowns, knowing that people are leaving the safety of their homes and being shuffled around the kingdom to safehouses, converted storage rooms, tents, wherever we can place them. This is the job of a princess, though. I need to be the face of a strong, united kingdom. I need to give people hope. I need to remind them of what they’re fighting for.

“Well, let’s get started. We have lots to do.” She pulls the first gown—my Ceremony gown—from the rack. I can’t help the way tears flood my eyes.

Tate snorts, and when I look to where he’s lounging on the chaise, Ciara is wiping her eyes too. He mutters something about us being ridiculous before Julianna pulls the partition closed for me to change.

Once I’m done, she opens it up and begins pinning my dress. Dozens of pins threaten to poke me from every angle, but I can’t draw my gaze away from the shimmering fabric that looks like strands of starlight silk. It’s breathtaking despite being impossible to breathe in.

Julianna yanks the silk tighter, and for a second, my airways completely close. Between the Nakata corset and the starlight silk, I am encased in a cage of my own making.

“Why,” I wheeze, catching Tate’s amused eye, “does saving the system require literal suffocation?”

Julianna hums, oblivious, adding more pins that jab into my hip like reminders of the forty suitors I’m about to face.

I look up to my friends, where Ciara is stifling her laughter by looking at the ceiling, and Tate, whose boot is now kicked up on the back of the chaise, and is stuffing his face with candied figs.

Without looking my way, he says, “Because looking fashionable is definitely more important than your ability to live. Everyone knows that. Nobody cares if you’re actually breathing, just whether the gown you’re wearing is impressive enough.”

Ciara crosses her arms, rolling her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re here to be supportive.”

Tate grins. “I am. I’m supporting her morale.” He gestures to me with the half-eaten fig. “If she passes out, at least she’ll look fabulous doing it.”

I glare at him, but the warmth in my chest is real. Between the impending war and the humiliating sex talks, his charm is the only thing keeping me grounded. “If I die in this dress, I’m haunting you first.”

“Worth it,” he says cheerfully, throwing his head back as he lowers the fig into his mouth. Then, with a mouthful, he says, “At least you’d make the afterlife less boring.”

Julianna tugs on the gown, catching my attention. “Your Highness, if you could just…stop moving.”

I grit my teeth as another pin jabs my hip.

Ciara sighs, standing in front of me and fixing the bodice that is suspiciously close to moving and exposing my breast. “Hold still, or you’ll bleed, and Tate will make another joke about your death that I’ll have to hit him for.”

Tate gasps, placing a hand on his chest. “You wound me.”

I fight a smile, remaining as still as possible so I’m not stabbed again.

“Not yet, but the day is still young,” Ciara mutters.

Tate winks at me over his shoulder. “You two are terrible for my self-esteem.”

Ciara spins in front of me to face Tate. “Tate, you don’t have self-esteem.” She strides forward, grabbing one of the figs for herself. “What you have is an overinflated sense of charm.”