I can feel Gaven’s gaze on me as the words register. Aidia shifts but doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. I can practically read her thoughts. My father sent multiple scouting parties beyond the walls to try to find survivors at Fallen Hold, but in all these years, they haven’t found any.
“For so long, we’d thought they were lost to us, but Fallen Hold is now Mountain Haven once again. Now we can rejoice in their safe return,” my father continues.
“Where have they been all these years?” Rafe asks.
My father’s smile pinches a hint. He hates when Rafe chips away at his authority. While I love seeing my father taken down a peg or two, I hate that it’s Rafe benefiting from it.
“Underground, and then rebuilding. Apparently, it took them untilnow to have the infrastructure in place to reach us without risk of losing lives in the journey through the Drained Wood.” Murmurs rise around the table. My father pauses until they hush again. “Not only are the Havenwoods still ruling the hold, but they have a son and heir.”
The guests descend into pandemonium—chairs scrape as several men push back from the table as if preparing to riot. They won’t actually do it, because anyone Divine-blessed who lives inside these city walls is loyal to my family out of necessity. Still, they get a thrill from believing for a moment they might be able to hit back.
I can relate.
Animated conversations break out all around me, including between Kellan and Libby. Even before the attack on Mountain Haven, city folk considered the people of the fort savages. Aidia and I used to sneak out to pubs, hoping to hear stories about the only world we knew outside the city walls. We listened intently as tradesmen told tales of their huntsmen offering bloody rituals to Asher, the Divine of Endings, or wild sex rituals to Kennymyra, the Divine of Pleasure. We were sheltered and inexperienced and fascinated. Their world seemed so much more mysterious and feral, so very much in contrast to our structured, bustling city.
I catch Aidia’s gaze, and she lifts a brow as if to say she sees where our father’s speech is going. They’re going to marry off some poor young woman from one of the lower magical families to the Fallen Hold heir. If they survived this long out in the wild, the Havenwoods either have more powerful magic than our parents realized—or a more valuable secret. If there’s one thing they can’t resist, it’s the possibility of more power.
Aidia nods to several young, unmarried women at the far end of the table. They wring their hands and stare wide-eyed at the plates of untouched stuffed zucchini blossoms in front of them. A young woman from a lesser family is a small price to pay for whatever helped them survive.
I lean back in my chair. Thank Divine I’m a widow. I haven’t been this happy that Marc’s dead since the day I killed him. I served my time, and now my reward is largely being ignored.
My father smiles indulgently at the whispering crowd, as if we are all just a bunch of naive children. Finally, he holds up both hands and the room quiets.
“Liza and I are delighted to accept their request to come back into thefold after thinking they were lost to us for so long. They arrive tomorrow.” He looks at my mother, who rises and takes his hand, lifting her wine glass with the other. She nods, and my father continues. “We’d also like to offer a toast. After much misfortune, this is a moment of hope.”
The guilt placates everyone, and a wave of solemn nods goes through the crowd, all eyes shifting to me. I refuse to meet any of their gazes. It’s so hard to fake grief over my horrible, dead husband. I do my best impression of a weary widow.
My father clears his throat, indicating the end of his performance of solemnity. “We are certain that whatever has allowed them to thrive in such dire circumstances makes them a great asset to strengthening our resolve against the Drained. We are pleased to announce that we’ve agreed to a preliminary marriage contract between their son and our youngest daughter, Harlow.”
Kellan tenses beside me and Aidia’s jaw drops across the table, but it’s not until every gaze in the room shifts to me that I register that my father said my name.
I choke on my wine, sputtering into my napkin. I stare at my father, trying to master my expression. All the years of practice and gritting it out through pain fail me; I can only manage a tight smile.
There’s a challenge in his eye, as if he’s daring me to argue in front of everyone, knowing I would never break the first rule of the Carrenwell Family—present a united front in public and save dissent for behind closed doors.
I force a smile to my face and nod.
My father holds up his glass. “Now we’d like to offer a toast to our daughter for solidifying this alliance and ensuring a stronger future for all of Lunameade. To Harlow.”
The crowd repeats after him, and glasses clink. I knock back the stinging bubbles and enjoy the sharp burn that slides down my throat.
My parents want to trade me to some savage from beyond the walls, but I have every intention of getting something for my trouble.
2
HARLOW
The new moon is my accomplice, blanketing the city in a velvet dark perfect for getting away with murder.
I cast a glance over my shoulder at my home. Night grants the mansion sharp teeth made of darkness. Few secrets are safe from their bite.
Fortunately, my sins are well hidden.
I turn back and tread the path I’ve walked down many times before. The twists and turns of the alleys in the southern half of the city are so familiar, I can walk them by muscle memory alone, which is good because I’m distracted by the announcement of my impending nuptials.
Of course my parents didn’t warn me ahead of time. If they’d told me without an audience, I could have objected. They trapped me into agreeing.
The more congratulatory well-wishes I received, the more my stomach churned, and the more pain pressed against the back of my eyes. I wasn’t willing to risk an episode, so I’d excused myself early and snuck out as soon as Gaven dropped me in my room.
