“Oh, don’t make that face, I’m only joking.” He winked. “Fidelity is the last thing I’d expect.”
I nearly stumbled. Goddess, if there was anything worse than marrying a gorgeous psychopath, it was marrying a gorgeous psychopath who thought he was clever.
“Glad to know you’re taking your vows seriously,” I choked out.
“I’ve never taken a vow seriously in my life,” he said lightly. “I don’t plan to start now.”
Before I could respond, we reached the officiant, who instructed us to face each other. I obeyed, the peonies already limp in my grasp.
Thankfully, the man made short work of the ceremony. He clearly had somewhere more important to be, and our vows passed in a blur—something about growing alongside each other, our roots entwined like goddess-blessed oaks. It all felt ridiculously outdated, considering the swamp no longer served as anyone’s temple and hadn’t in years, but I forced myself to parrot the empty oaths. Kyven breezed through his with similarindifference. Not even his cultured Hightower lilt could lend the promises any weight.
The officiant clearly didn’t care. With palpable disinterest, he crowned us with traditional marriage wreaths, both woven from the delicate moss that dripped from the trees—though I couldn’t imagine where anyone had sourced the unruined silver stuff rather than the toxic purple kind that surrounded the manor. Then he bound our wrists with a length of cypress vine and pronounced us man and wife.
That was it. I squared my shoulders, bracing for some invisible weight to descend, but apparently being married—even to a monster—felt no different thannotbeing married.
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant intoned.
Thatprompted a response. Every muscle in my body locked up, because I hadn’t considered the kiss.Whyhad I not considered the kiss?
Kyven scanned my face. I swore he clocked the dread writhing in my stomach, because he smiled knowingly and turned to the officiant. “I think we’ll save that for later. For when we don’t have a pair of beady little eyes hungering for a free performance.”
The man huffed. “Look, I don’t care what you do, so long as I get my fee. I’ve done my bit, so Olivian’d better cough up some of those coins he’s hoarding. Now, why don’t you two run along and have yourselves a nice life? Shouldn’t be hard, living here all comfy-like.”
He stalked from the room before I could correct him.
Vick trailed the man as far as the doors. His vulpine features conveyed an impatience to get on with his evening, whatever that consisted of. Amryssa hovered at his elbow, silent.
“Well,” Kyven said. “That was rather anticlimactic.”
I hesitated. The doorway resembled the maw of some ravenous beast, ready to swallow me up.
Once I passed through, everything would change. Upstairs lay long halls and closed doors and privacy, and once I had the prince sequestered in my room, his mask would fall away. Then I’d find out just how deep the water I’d jumped into ran.
Many, many fathoms, I suspected.
Kyven—oh goddess, myhusband, what the fuck?—offered his arm. I swallowed my revulsion and took it, then forced my feet to move, though it felt distinctly like being dragged.
Halfway to the door, Lunk astonished me by crushing Kyven into a hug.
I hung back, taking the opportunity to toss my peonies away beneath a chair. Kyven’s attendant clung to him, and if I hadn’t known better, I would’ve suspected true warmth existed between these men. Tears streaked the giant’s face as he beamed a broken-toothed smile over Kyven’s shoulder. I echoed the gesture, then wondered why I’d bothered, but Lunk seemed so overjoyed that I couldn’t regret it too much.
When the big man finally let go, the vine at my wrist went taut, giving me no choice but to follow my new husband toward the door.
Vick nodded as we passed. “It’s done, then. On to the next step.”
The pronouncement gave me pause. What the hell did that mean,the next step?And why did Vick’s Hightower accent sound so...different than Kyven’s? It was stiffer, more hesitant. As if he’d pondered each syllable beforehand.
I squinted, but Vick’s expression revealed nothing. I hurried onward, disconcerted.
In the great hall, Kyven mounted the staircase. Amryssa trailed after us, her eyes downcast. Apparently she’d taken my earlier warnings to heart.
Say nothing.Don’t even look at anyone.
On the second floor, we threaded up the narrow staircase to the tower. While we climbed, Eliana’s words spread like a stain on my mind, a black rot I couldn’t scrape away.
As Kyven grew, he left behind a trail of little deaths, and later, some not-so-little deaths.
All too soon, we reached Amryssa’s door. She finally met my gaze, abject terror in her eyes.
