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Terrance walked toward her, holding a white and pink arrangement of flowers that had wilted in the frigid air outside. His bald head shone, but his messy red beard looked freshly trimmed and oiled. He was wearing a tunic decorated with gold medals and a gaudy embroidered ribbon.
“I didn’t think you were allowed to visit me.”
“Aye—I couldn’t until today. You look… nice.” He shifted on his feet, avoiding her eyes as he studied every corner of the room instead as if the spiderwebs that decorated them were more interesting than her. “I figured it would be good to come and see you before the ceremony.”
She trailed her fingertips over the corset that embraced her curves; the softest silk she had ever touched. Shimmery thread made a flower pattern that contrasted with a brighter shade of pearlescent white.
“You didn’t have to bring flowers. This isn’t something I want to celebrate,” Violet whispered, after she was sure she wouldn’t crack under the pressure building within her.
“Violet, saying that kind of thing is what got you into this mess.” Terrance’s voice had turned bitter. She’d heard him use this tone before, with those outside their assembly. Never with her.
His words weren’t the truth either, and he knew that. He was well acquainted with the vipers who had called themselves her chamber-mates, and he’d probably suspected that Violet wouldn’t stick around to be matched.
Terrance hunched his shoulders as he wandered around the small chamber. His wide hands, scarred and callused, stood in sharp relief against the delicate petals of the daisies and white peonies he held. “See this as a good outcome. Your groom is filthy rich. Isn’t that what all women like?”
Violet narrowed her eyes. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
Terrance’s lips flattened, but he said nothing. Maybe he wasn’t looking for an argument. She didn’t want to get into a fight, either. However prickly, Terrance was all she had left.
Violet reached for the bouquet and buried her nose in the petals. The scent was pleasant enough, and their texture like velvet.
She wasn’t into things that men like Terrance thought women liked. But she had to admit flowers were different. Her little sister, Thalea, said Violet’s eyes looked the color of the flowers. It was where her nickname had come from. Violet.
The people in the army had adopted the nickname, and it always reminded her of the best parts of her life. A past with a family that cherished her.
The bells resumed their ringing, and her stomach clenched.
The time was near. She could almost smell the frankincense in the air.
Trembling with a cold she couldn’t shake, she followed Terrance as he walked toward the dressing table and picked up the parchment letter that bound her to Gavin. The paper was wrinkled, leaving the neat penmanship unrecognizable to all but her. She’d memorized it a long time ago.
“I would rather your husband was less—I don’t know… pretty? Someone who could keep your fire in check.” He grunted and dropped the offending paper on the bed.
“Stop that.”
“They should have picked one of us. Not someone from the Valdor Assembly and their pompous rich boys. Those men don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” Her commander hooked his fingers around his leather belt and walked toward the window. He peeled the gauzy curtain away, letting the light of the early morning sun bathe his wide, scarred face. “Particularly Julius—he is a special trouble with the way he treats women…”
“I wish they would leave me alone.” Violet dropped the bouquet on the bed and took a deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her dress.
She had spent most of the week trying to escape her fate. And yet, after three years without any intimacy, it was easy to fantasize over a passionate wedding night with an attractive man. However unlikely it was to happen.
Her throat grew dry at the thought. Fidgeting, she sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’ve heard Luna is decent in battle.” Terrance’s words brought her back from her reverie.
Terrance pushed away from the wall. Right. She’d almost forgotten. He’d come to take her into the city hall, like most commanders did when weddings took place.
“Are we leaving now?” She glanced toward the door, which stood ajar. She wasn’t supposed to be left alone in a closed chamber with a man, but her chaperone was nowhere to be seen.
“About that. I won’t be taking you there today.”
Violet blinked away her confusion. The flower crown he’d brought with him, and then his polished attire. Terrance had come ready for the ceremony. What had made him change his mind?
She frowned. “Why not?”
“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be…”
“You are dressed for the occasion. Tell me why.”
