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It only made his smile broaden more.
After a short passing of time, he said, “Well? Have you decided, Little Goddess? Will you exchange your freedom for his, your freedom for countless others’?”
I grated my teeth, tears filling my eyes. Aurelius was the king of the realms. Without his protection, there was no telling what the God of Death would do. As it stood, I had no other option . . .
“Fine. I’ll take the deal.”
“Wonderful. Consider it done,” he said. His eyes drifted down the length of my torso. “I do hope you enjoy the placement of this one.”
I didn’t need to ask him to know what he meant—he was talking about the tattoo. My cheeks flared red both from embarrassment and something else I would rather not admit.
He turned, expressing those broad shoulders towards me, and walked towards the crowd. They scrambled out of his way, falling over top of one another in their haste. He called out, over his shoulder, “I’ll return within two weeks’ time to collect you, my darling little bride.”
“Wait! What about the bonds?” I asked frantically as he walked away.
“Those are to ensure the mate-fucker keeps his hands off of what ismine,” the God of Death growled before he dissolved into shadow.
Sage
Morning light spilled through the eastward-facing windows in the dressmaker’s shop, painting the charcoal-gray stone floor with evenly spaced strips of brilliant gold. Various sized dressers and shelves spanned along the stretch of walls, chock-full of different folded textiles—wool, fine linens, silk, hemp, cotton, leather, and so forth.
Sitting atop one of those dressers was a plant I had not recognized before, although it had been a few weeks since I’d last set foot in the dressmaker’s shop, so it could be a new addition. The plant had broad heart-shaped leaves larger than my head. The leaves were peculiar—although they were sturdy in structure, they looked like they had been repeatedly cut from the edge to the middle. It reminded me of a shattered heart.
The dressmaker hadn’t said so much as a single word to me since my arrival, other than pointing to the pedestal I was to stand on—which I did obligingly. I hadn’t seen her for a few weeks now, but our time apart had done very little to dampen her sour mood towards me.
Judging by the way her eyes had regarded me this morning when she opened her door—with daggers and poison—I was lucky looks couldn’t kill.
The dressmaker disappeared through an open doorway leading into a back room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
As I no longer had the iron collar suppressing my Curses, last night, I dreamt for the first time in weeks, but the contents of that dream felt more like a memory than a dream. I suspected that’s because they were—a memory.
I had been in the Sky Palace celebrating the end of the war with Arkyn, who was—
Aurelius’s son.
I didn’t know why I hadn’t put that together before—they shared similar traits. It was in the way they spoke, the way they moved, the way they could catch the attention of everyone in the room.
Of course, they were related. And yet, the topic had never come up with Aurelius. Why wouldn’t he mention that to me? Surely, he must know.
On top of that, it was just as Arkyn had said—we had been friends once upon a time. From the small glimpse of what I remembered, he had been myonlyfriend. I did not fit in with the other goddesses, that much was clear. And because Von made me barren, it wasn’t like I had any family either.
Even now, I could feel that dissatisfied, lonely feeling I felt back then swell within my chest. It was familiar. Isolating. I turned from the dreaded feel of it, shifting back to the memory.
Von had shown up, and while we danced, he said,Tell me, Little Goddess, did he apologize for what he did to you?He had been referring to Aurelius, but what did he mean by it? What had Aurelius done that required apologizing?
I plucked at my bottom lip.
On top of that, Von had made his demands—my hand in marriage in exchange for Aurelius’s release and the realms. Something I seemed very opposed to at the time. That feeling returned, filling me with claustrophobia—like a hand locked around my throat, cutting off my air. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reminding myself that it was just a memory. It wasn’t happening now. I was safe.
Creaaaaak. Bang!
I jumped, startled from my thoughts. It sounded like a bunch of shelves had come crashing down in the back room that the dressmaker was in.
“Are you alright?” I called out.
Her answer came as a pained, drawn-out moan.
I leapt down from the pedestal. On quick feet, I ran to the back of the shop. My hand anchored to the door frame, using it as leverage as I wrapped around the corner, my heartbeat leaping into my ears.
