The nought soldiers peer in our direction and suddenly turn away with gasps of shock and derision. More murmurs and noises of dissent work over them.
“So, you were…supposed to put that back on.” Fuck, is he going to take her back now? “Go on then,” I say, waving her off. “I’ll come for you.”
I head in the direction I’ve left Epona tethered to a tree. I mean I could totally just leave now. Force her father to take her back whether he wants to or not.
It’s not my problem. But what if they don’t take her back? And then the Masks get a hold of her…and she’s so small and defenseless. I let out another growl. No, I have to fucking convince him to take her back. Are they going to like…punish her for not putting that thing back on?
Agh, fuck these freaky fucking cult of noughts.
I grab Epona’s reins and lead her back to where I’ve left them, rehearsing what I’ll say in my head. Samore won’t be safe for her. No one will ever accept a nought. They’ll probably try to murder her honestly. It’d be better if you just…return her home. The alliance can still happen. This marriage part to seal the deal however is really so unnecessary.
The conversation between her and her father grows visibly heated as I gain closer. That’s not a good sign…
The little nought’s face suddenly morphs when she sees me approach, eyes lighting up like I’m her favorite person in the world. She beams at me, and I stagger slightly, pace slowing in utter befuddlement.
“Oh, there you are,” she says enthusiastically, reaching out a hand to lay it against my arm. My eyes narrow as I stare down at her small, delicate fingers.What the fuck is that? What’s she doing?
She turns her head to where her face is only visible to me and widens her eyes with a pleading look. She’s asking me to…she’s asking me to play along. She’s trying to use me…to threaten him.
Gods fucking dammit.
How am I supposed to make him take her back when she’s looking at me like that? Internally, I’m fumbling, crumbling, struggling to find a way out. Somewhere in the back of my mind springs the thought,at least she’s cute.
No, that makes it worse. Not better.
I glance over at King Nought and he’s still looking at her, eyes blazing like he’s seconds from reaching out and strangling her.
Oh, just fuck this stupid fucking asshole.
I’m not sure wherethe impulse even comes from. My desire to fight back had long since been beaten down, filed away, and confined under the chains. But now the chains are gone. He’d come with his own thorns fully retracted, warning me not to tread too close and somehow, possibly with the weight of the Shroud removed it’s triggered mine to regrow again. An attempt to protect myself. And protect Syra.
I hadn’t fully planned on refusing to put the Shroud back on. It was a split-second decision. Syra can’t pretend to be me for the rest of her life. The others will know. Someone is sure to out her. Wouldn’t it be better to reveal myself now and try to use my new position as a means to protect her?
A spark of fear still trills through me as my father’s penetrating eyes find me. Whether his reddening face is due to my being unshrouded or because he knows I’m not the daughter he meant to send here, I’m not sure.
My heart sinks as the witch stalks away, leaving me unprotected but I point my chin and relish the direct sunlight against my face for the first time in so many years. A Shrouded baring her face is a sentence punishable by death. They’re hardly going to execute the bride they’ve just promised, are they? They’ve basically already sentenced me to my likely death.
“Pandora,” my father growls as I approach, making it clear he knows I’m not the daughter he meant to send here. “Where is your Shroud? You’ll bring God’s wrath upon our kingdom.”
“God is already unleashing his wrath upon our kingdom if you haven’t noticed.” Even I’m surprised that I’m brave enough to speak to him in this way. I have nothing left to lose.
“I chose Syra for a reason!”
“Why is that?”
“You are tainted by the daemon!” he spits so furiously I flinch and retreat a step.
I can’t help myself from glancing around to make sure the prince isn’t close by. I don’t know why it matters when he is what he is yet…I don’t want him to know of my dark predilection. I recover myself and huff out a forced laugh. “That was long ago. Besides, you’ve married me to a witch. It hardly matters.”
His eyes flame. “Syra’s less likely to cause trouble for us.”
So that’s the real reason he’d chosen her. He’s afraid of how this will affect our alliance. HowI’llaffect our alliance. Syra was always the better-behaved one. It’s too late for him to do anything about it and he knows it. Best for him to shut up and pretend there’s nothing out of sorts.
My confidence soars. I’ve never had more power than I have right now. “I forced Syra, locked her in her chambers. She’s not at fault and should suffer no consequences.”
“I’ll decide that.”
I lean forward and drop my voice. “If you harm one hair on her head, I’ll find out. I’ll find a way to cause trouble. Don’t forget, you’ve just given me a husband who is a witch. Give me your word, or I’ll do everything in my power to make sure this alliance is ruined.”
