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Through the window within his mind, Graeson looked toward the iron doors. Squinting, he saw a thin layer of smoke snake beneath the door.
It’s time, the god said, smirking beneath the helmet.
Chapter56
KALLIE
Kallie straightenedas the familiar smell of smoke weaved its way down the aisle.
The priest’s nose twitched, and he scanned for the source. His eyes settled on the staff in the acolytes’ hands, and his shoulders relaxed. But Kallie knew better. The smell was too distinct to be from the flickering flames of the torches.
The Pontians had come. There was no other explanation.
Her father had warned her that morning that the Pontians were savages. That they were cruel and unrelenting. They didn’t care about her. They only cared about destroying everything she had.
And he was right.
In her peripheral, Kallie saw her father arch a brow at her, looking at her expectantly. Not at the smoke or the people in the back of the room who waved their pamphlets near their faces as the room heated. He stared at her, for the power was in her hands.
Soon, the people would become restless. Once the smoke scratched their throats and filled their lungs, their concern would grow exponentially. Their panic uncontrollable.
Kallie needed to hurry the ceremony along. She needed to finish this, for an overwhelming need to appease her father shot through her body. Kallie would not let him down again.
Holding Rian’s hands, she reached for her gift. At first, it was reluctant to answer her call, but then it filled her veins.
With a sweet smile, she looked to the priest and whispered so no one else could hear, “Move onto the vows, Priest Havering.”
The priest stuttered, stumbling over his words as the command swept through his mind.
Having heard the command, Rian tugged on Kallie’s hands, but Kallie’s grip remained firm around his fingers.
“Kalisandre,” Rian whispered as he leaned toward her. “What are you doing?”
Kallie offered him a sweet smile. “Only eager to marry you, Your Majesty.”
Rian’s brows furrowed, but he remained silent.
Priest Havering cleared his throat. “Let us get on to the vows, for we are all eager to see our king and his bride unified. Princess, repeat after me, ‘I, Kalisandre Helene Domitius.’”
“I, Kalisandre Helene Domitius.” When her name left her lips, Kallie’s brows quivered.
Was Domitius her real last name, or was it Nadarean? Did it matter if the last name she spoke was not truly her own but one that was instead thrust upon her? Would the marriage even hold if her name was a lie?
She gnawed on her lip, the fear of failure coating her throat.
She took a deep breath. To the people, she was the Princess of Ardentol, daughter of the King of Ardentol. It did not matter where she came from or how she got here.
She continued to repeat after the priest. “Promise to protect the Frenzian kingdom, to put the kingdom’s safety first. Promise to protect the king of Frenzia, serve him, and obey him as his wife and servant to the kingdom.”
The smell of smoke was more prominent now, the people in the back growing more restless. Whispers hissed throughout the temple. Rian looked out to the crowd, and Kallie bit down on her cheek as she watched her chance slip away. The smoke began its slow descent down the aisle, and the people started shifting in their seats. Whispers filled the room.
Kallie almost had everything she wanted. The marriage alliance was almost sealed and finalized. Kallie was almost Rian’s wife. Almost the Queen of Frenzia.
Butalmostwasn’t good enough.
Her gaze slipped to her father.
Now!King Domitius’ glare beckoned.
