Chapter six

Lythera POV

The atmosphere in our home, however, has become increasingly unsettling lately.

Perhaps they are still angry about the ball. Perhaps Amelia is upset because the Queen chose me as Edward’s bride.

Whatever the reason, I decide not to concern myself with it.

I have spent too much of my life trying to understand people who have never bothered to understand me.

That evening, I retreat to the stables after dinner.

“Lady Lythera?”

I turn at the sound of a maid’s voice near the stable entrance. She stands a short distance away, her hands clasped before her, looking as though she has been searching for me.

“What is it?”

“Someone has come to see you, my lady.”

I glance at the darkening sky. “Someone? Who?”

“He asked that his identity be kept a surprise.”

My hand stills against my mare’s neck. “He?”

The maid nods.

I cannot imagine who would visit me at this hour and insist on making a mystery of it.

Still, I wipe my hands on a cloth, straighten my sleeves, and follow the maid toward the adjoining stable room.

Prince Edward stands near the far wall, dressed in a dark riding coat, his expression composed.

Two of his men wait outside the open doorway.

My face falls before I can disguise it.

“If you have come to see Amelia, she is out with my mother,” I tell him, turning toward the door. “They should be back shortly. I have things to attend to, so you may as well wait for them.”

“Lythera.”

I keep walking.

“I came to see you.”

His hand closes around mine before I can reach the doorway.

I look down at his fingers around mine, then slowly raise my eyes to his face.

“Then you have seen me,” I reply. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

I attempt to withdraw my hand, but his grip tightens just enough to stop me.

“I have something important to discuss with you. Please, listen to me.”

Something in his voice makes me hesitate. He is not shouting, nor does he look openly irritated by my presence.

“What could possibly be so important that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” I ask. “I am tired, Edward. If you have come to tell me that you want the Queen to reconsider our betrothal, you need not trouble yourself. I was already planning to speak to her about it.”

His expression changes.

“No. That isn’t why I am here.”

“Then what is it?”

“Will you please hear me out first?”

I should refuse. I should pull my hand free, walk straight back to my horses, and leave him standing in the room with all the explanations he can possibly invent. I have been trying to distance myself from him for days, and the last thing I need is another conversation that leaves me questioning my worth.

But there is still a foolish corner of my heart that refuses to die.

Perhaps he has regretted his cruelty and had finally realized how far he went at the ball.

Perhaps his visit means that, beneath all the contempt he has shown me, there is a part of him that cares whether I am hurting.

I hate myself for entertaining the possibility.

Yet when he releases my hand and gestures toward the quieter corner of the stable, I follow him.

“How have you been since the ball?” he asks.

I nearly stumble over my own feet’s.

“I am recovering,” I answer cautiously. “The wound has healed enough. Thank you for asking.”

His eyes flick briefly toward my forehead, where a faint mark remains beneath my hairline. Something passes over his face, but I cannot identify it.

“I am glad to hear that.”

I lower my gaze, suddenly uncomfortable with how much those simple words mean to me. “Is that all you came to say?”

“No.” He takes a breath. “A letter arrived from the Shadow Clan a few days ago.”

I frown. “The Shadow Clan?”

“The Shadow King has proposed a marriage alliance with our kingdom.”

I wait for him to explain what this has to do with me, but he only watches me with an expression I cannot quite grasp.

“The King has requested a bride from House Amberton,” he continues.

My confusion gives way to surprise. “From our house?”

“Yes.”

For the first time, the strange atmosphere at home begins to make sense.

“Who has been chosen?” I ask, though the answer seems obvious from the way he has brought this news to me.

“Amelia.”

My chest tightens.

I know very little about the Shadow Kingdom beyond the frightening stories that travel through our court. The Shadow King is spoken of as a merciless ruler, a man whose power commands obedience and whose displeasure can destroy entire households.

I have never met him, but I have heard enough to understand why the thought of marrying him would terrify any maiden.

“Does Amelia know?” I ask.

“She does.”

“And my parents agreed to this?”

“They have little choice. Refusing the alliance could have consequences for the entire kingdom.”

I press my lips together, trying to imagine Amelia being sent to a place she fears, to marry a man whose reputation makes even experienced courtiers lower their voices.

Whatever my feelings toward her, I cannot pretend that the thought brings me satisfaction.

“Is there no other way?” I ask. “Surely there must be some alternative. If the Shadow King is as merciless as everyone claims, sending Amelia there could put her in terrible danger.”

Edward’s expression brightens, as though I have finally said the words he has been waiting to hear.

“That is precisely why I came to you. I have found a solution.”

Relief rises in me before I understand what he means.

“What solution?”

He hesitates. For the first time since I entered the room, he seems uncomfortable. He looks away briefly, then returns his attention to me.

“You should go in her place.”

The words settle between us.

I stare at him, waiting for a smile, some indication that I have misunderstood. But Edward remains perfectly serious, and the faint hope that had begun to grow inside me turns cold.

“What?”

“You would take Amelia’s place as the Shadow King’s bride.”

I pull my hand away from him, though he has not been holding it this time. “Do you understand what you are asking me?”

“Of course I do.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” My voice trembles.“Everyone in the kingdom fears the Shadow King. No sensible maiden would willingly agree to marry him when she has heard what he is like. Why should I volunteer to go in Amelia’s place?”

“Because Amelia cannot survive that life.” His response comes so quickly that I wonder whether he has rehearsed it on the journey here. “She is not suited to the Shadow Kingdom. She has a gentle nature, Lythera. She has never had to endure the sort of hardship she would face there.”

I look at him in disbelief. “And I have?”

“You are stronger than she is.”

Stronger.

The word they use whenever they want me to endure something Amelia cannot.

“Amelia doesn’t deserve that fate,” I whisper.

“Exactly. So you understand why this must be done.”

My eyes burn.

“No,” I say, my voice growing firmer. “You misunderstand me. Amelia does not deserve to be sent to a place where she may be miserable or afraid. But why does that mean I deserve it? Why must I always be the one who sacrifices something for her? Why is my life the one everyone can offer whenever hers becomes inconvenient?”

His jaw tightens. “You are being unreasonable.”

“And you are asking me to marry a man I have never met, a man everyone fears, simply because you don’t want your precious Amelia to suffer.”

“I am asking you to help protect your family and your kingdom.”

“Then find another way.”

“There is no other way!”

His sudden sharpness makes me flinch, but I refuse to look away.

“Then send the daughter the Shadow King actually requested,” I reply. “I was not chosen for this alliance. I am already promised to you, and I have no intention of abandoning my life to save Amelia from a fate she has been selected to face.”

For a heartbeat, Edward says nothing. I watch the gentleness drain from his face, replaced by the cold displeasure I know so well.

“So that is what this is about,” he says. “You would rather see Amelia suffer than do something that might inconvenience you.”

I cannot believe what I am hearing.

“How can you say that to me?”

“Because you are behaving selfishly. You have spent years trying to put yourself between Amelia and everything she deserves, and now you are refusing to help her when she needs you most.”

A laugh escapes me.“I have spent years trying to earn your affection, Edward. I have spent years making excuses for the way you treat me, convincing myself you might one day look at me and see someone worth loving. And now you have come here to tell me that I must give up my entire life because you cannot bear the thought of Amelia being unhappy?”

His expression hardens further.

“Do not twist my words.”

I turn toward the door, my hands trembling. I cannot remain here and listen to him explain.

“Lythera, wait.”

I keep walking.

He catches up with me before I reach the doorway, taking hold of my arm and turning me toward him.

“Listen to me. You are making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Let go of me.”

“You need to understand that this alliance is important. Our kingdom needs the Shadow Clan’s support, and we cannot afford to offend the Shadow King. You are the only person who can take Amelia’s place without destroying everything we are trying to achieve.”

His eyes narrow. “You are strong enough to withstand whatever happens in the Shadow Kingdom. I know you are.”

“And if I am not?”

“You will be.”

He draws me closer, his hands settling on my shoulders as though the gesture might soothe me. I stiffen beneath his touch, but he seems determined to mistake my discomfort for something else.

“Please, Lythera,” he says, his voice softening again. “Do this for Amelia. I promise I will find a way to make it up to you. Once the alliance is secure, I will come for you. I will bring you home myself.”

I step out of his hold.

“No.”

His face goes still.

“I will not go.”

“Lythera—”

“Leave.” I wipe at the tears gathering in my eyes. “If that is all you came here to say, then leave. I have nothing more to discuss with you.”

For a moment, the room is silent except for the restless movement of the horses beyond the wall.

Then Edward turns toward the doorway.

I think, absurdly, that he is finally going to respect my answer. That he will leave me alone with the remains of my heart and allow me to decide what happens to my own life.

Instead, he lifts his hand and gives a small, deliberate signal.

The two men waiting outside immediately step into the room.

I look from them to Edward, confusion giving way to alarm as they spread out, one moving toward the door behind me and the other closing the distance between us.

“What are they doing?” I demand. “Edward, tell your men to stand down.”

He does not answer.

“Tell them to leave!” I repeat, taking a step backward. “What is happening?”

“I am sorry it has to be this way.”

The calmness of his voice chills me.

I stare at him, unable to make sense of the words. “What have you done?”

“I have no intention of allowing you to jeopardize this alliance.”

My stomach drops.

“You cannot be serious.”

“The kingdom needs this agreement, Lythera. Someone must go to the Shadow King, and you are the only person who can take Amelia’s place.”

“I said no!”

I back away as one of the men approaches. “Edward, stop this. You cannot force me to marry someone.”

“I am doing this for the good of the kingdom.”

“You are doing this because you want to protect Amelia!”

“I am doing what must be done.”

The man reaches for my arm. I wrench it away and dart toward the opposite side of the stable room, my skirts catching around my ankles. I can hear boots striking the floor behind me, and panic rises so violently that I struggle to draw a full breath.

“Do not touch me!” I scream as another man blocks my path.

Edward follows at a measured pace, his expression grim. “There is no need to make a scene. Once you are safely on your way, you will understand why this had to happen.”

“Safely on my way?” I choke out. “You are taking me away from my home against my will, and you expect me to thank you?”

“I will come for you,” he insists. “You have my word.”

“Keep your word! I don’t want it!”

I try to slip past the man in front of me, but he catches my wrist. I twist, striking at his arm, desperate to free myself, and for a brief second his grip loosens. I lunge toward the doorway, only for the second man to seize me around the waist.

“No! Let me go!”

I struggle with everything I have, kicking and twisting, but he is stronger. Edward steps closer, and I turn toward him, searching his face for some trace of the man I have loved since childhood, some flicker of hesitation that might make him call off his men.

“Please,” I whisper, the word escaping before pride can stop it. “Edward, please don’t do this to me.”

His expression falters.

For one heartbeat, I think he might change his mind.

Then he looks away.

“Take her to the carriage,” he orders.

A sound tears from my throat as the men begin dragging me toward the exit. “You cannot do this! I am not a prisoner! I am not yours to trade!”

“This is no personal matter,” Edward says, following us. “I have to do what is best for the people who depend on me. One day, you will understand.”

I stare at him through my tears.

There is no understanding to be found in this. There is only the bitter knowledge that if Amelia were standing in my place, Edward would never permit anyone to drag her away.

But because it is me, he can watch it happen.

The stable door suddenly swings open.

I turn my head, hoping for a servant, a guard, anyone who might intervene. Instead, Amelia stands in the doorway, her eyes fixed on me as I struggle in the men’s grasp. She holds a small vase in both hands, and for a brief, bewildered moment, I think she has come to stop this. Perhaps she has heard the commotion and finally realized what Edward intends to do.

“Amelia!” I cry. “Please, tell him to stop!”

She says nothing.

Her face is pale, but there is no confusion in her eyes.

No sympathy.

“Amelia, what are you—”

She moves.

The vase swings through the air before I can finish speaking.

Pain explodes across the side of my head. The room tilts violently, the men’s hands slipping from my awareness as a burst of white light floods my vision.

My knees buckle.

The last thing I see is Amelia standing over me, the broken pieces of the vase scattered at her feet.

Then the floor rushes up to meet me, and the darkness swallows everything.