Chapter 3

After the guests filed into the hall, I was posted at the entrance to greet them.

Every time the heavy oak doors opened, the damp cemetery chill crept up my sleeves.

Vera sat by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket that Silas had draped over her.

A silver-etched foot warmer rested on her lap. Someone fed the coals at her feet, and even her cup of warm blood wine had come from Silas's own hand.

I stood at the door, watching each new arrival make their way over to greet her.

Anyone who didn't know better would think she was the one exchanging blood oaths with Silas tonight.

Someone brushed past me and murmured to a companion.

"Evelyn only gets to marry into the Laine family because Silas is too honorable to abandon her."

Another person sighed.

"Look at the state of Vera's legs, and she still came to the ceremony. How gracious of her."

The words were quiet, but they pierced my ears like needles.

I looked up at Silas.

He had heard them too.

But he just looked down and refilled Vera's wine, as if nothing had happened.

I couldn't hold back.

"Silas, aren't you going to defend me?"

His hand stilled. When he looked up at me, his brow was already furrowed.

"You know what tonight is. Do you have to pick a fight over this?"

"I only want them to remember that I'm tonight's bride."

The moment I said it, the gossiping guests had the sense to fall silent.

Vera lowered her head, clutching the blanket as her eyes filled with tears.

"Evelyn, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be sitting here."

"But my legs really hurt. I just wanted to be closer to the fire."

The moment she spoke, the way everyone looked at me changed.

Silas moved to her side. His voice dropped low.

"Enough."

I looked at him, and a sudden weight pressed down on my chest.

I'd said one sentence, and already he thought I was the problem.

Before I could speak again, Vera clutched her legs and the color drained from her face.

"Silas, my legs hurt so badly. I want a cup of sweet blood wine."

Silas responded instantly.

"I'll have someone warm it up."

But Vera shook her head and looked up at me.

"Could you have her make it herself?"

"If I drink something she made, I'll consider the past forgiven."

I didn't move.

Going would mean confessing to something I hadn't done.

"Sweet blood wine tastes the same no matter who makes it. Why does it have to be me?"

Vera bit her lip. Tears spilled before she said another word.

Silas looked at me, his voice low.

"It's just a cup of wine. Don't make things awkward for everyone."

I turned to him.

"You're asking me to do it too?"

His stare warned me not to push any further.

My fingertips went ice-cold.

Every guest was watching me.

They were all waiting for me to give in.

I clenched my fists, turned, and walked to the kitchen.

The silver pot was scalding.

Steam laced with cinnamon and deer blood struck my face, and my vision went white.

The rim brushed the back of my hand, leaving a searing red welt that blistered almost at once.

My fingers trembled from the pain, but I carried the sweet blood wine back.

Vera reached for the cup. The instant her fingers touched the rim, her hand went slack.

The cup tipped over, and the deep red wine splashed across her skirt.

She cried out and burst into tears.

"Don't blame Evelyn. She didn't mean it."

Silas lunged to her side on instinct, knocking me out of the way.

I crashed into the edge of the long table. Mud stained the hem of my wedding robe, the blister on my hand burst open, and the pain surged all at once.

Silas turned back to me. There was no concern in his eyes, only barely contained fury.

"Apologize."

I lifted my chin, holding back tears.

"It wasn't me."

Vera cried harder.

"I know you've always hated me, but tonight is your ceremony. I really didn't come to take anything from you."

The room erupted in whispers again, each voice finding a new way to blame me.

Silas picked up a white silk sash and held it out to me.

"Present her the wine. Apologize."

I stared at the sash as black spots swam across my vision.

"Silas," I asked, "you want me to apologize to her at my own Blood Oath Ceremony?"

"Apologize," he said, "and we can put this whole night behind us."

He wanted a confession. He wanted me to accept that Vera had every right to grind me beneath her heel.

I didn't take the sash.

Silas's expression went glacial.

"Evelyn, don't make me regret marrying you."