“Very well,” he spat, more at me than her. “So long as this wedding happens, I don’t care what form it takes.”
Warmth cascaded through me. Just minutes ago, I’d fantasized about imbuing Amryssa with some backbone, but now I blessed her for her lack of one.
Clearly, there was no room in Olivian’s mind to suspect her of treachery. He simply assumed his daughter would obey, as she always had.
He sat back, swatting Eliana’s letter to the floor. I dove after the fallen sheets and folded them into my skirt pocket.
“The officiant arrives at seven,” Olivian grumbled. “You two will meet him in the library. I suppose this means you’d like to do away with the nuptial feast, as well?”
Amryssa nodded, not looking at him.
I leapt up and tugged her to her feet before facing the seneschal. “Well, that’s settled. You can congratulate her tomorrow. Right now, I need to get her ready.”
He lobbed me a look of pure loathing. “See that you do.”
I responded with a smarmy, insincere smile and steered Amryssa away. She didn’t resist. Her spirit seemed to have forsaken her body, leaving behind a hollow husk that moved when propelled, but had no will of its own.
Upstairs, I holed us up in her bedroom. Someone had apparently come and gone—Amryssa’s wedding gown now hung from the armoire, a complex waterfall of rose satin and white lace.
A groan slipped from my throat. “Goddess, I’m never going to fit into that.”
Amryssa gave no indication of having heard. She drifted toward the window, only stopping when her nose hovered an inch from the pane. She stared out, her expression vacant.
I sighed. “Are you okay?”
Her throat bobbed. “Would you be?”
“Well... No. Probably not.”
Then again, I never would have wound up in her position. I didn’t put faith in people. I didn’t trust. I didn’thope.
I knew better.
But I couldn’t hold Amryssa’s innate goodness against her, so I went and gathered her into a hug. She felt birdlike in my arms, as if she might crumble to dust and float away on the wind. “I’m sorry,” I said into her hair. “I wish I’d been wrong. But you agreed to do this my way, if I wasn’t. So let’s get you in the bath. Get you clean.”
“Me? But why? When you’re the one insisting on getting married?”
“Because. It’s still my job to take care of you.”
Her brow creased. “It shouldn’t be, though. You ought to just let me go. Live your own life.”
I stiffened. “Let you go? But...where?”
“Out there.” Amryssa nodded toward the window. “Into the forest. The swamp.”
I flinched, if only because I knew how deeply she longed for that. Every time she sat in the cupola and peered out like a butterfly pinned under glass, some broken thing was whispering its devilry inside her. She daydreamed of slipping among the poisoned cypresses, of crooning to the mutant animals and drinking the diseased water.
But if the brigands living out there didn’t find her, what would happen when the next nightmare came through? Would Amryssa just...willingly join the goddess in her eternal sleep?
No, fuck that. Ineededher. Maybe that made me selfish, but my mind couldn’t hold a future that didn’t include my best friend alive and breathing, in which she lightened this dreary house one caring word at a time.
“I can’t let you do that,” I said.
“Why not?” Something like despair rimmed her voice.
“Because,” I said. “You saved me. You’re the only person who’s ever even given a shit, and Ineedyou. Everyone does. You’re the only bright spot in this entire messed-up place.”
Her lips pressed together. “Is this really what you want, though? To just...save me from myself, over and over again? This is enough for you?”
