Chapter 3

The air was thick with tension when I entered Prime Hall. The two scouts, Renna and Burl, passed me as they exited. When I made eye contact, both of them looked at the floor and quickened their pace. Something was up.

I found Grandmother sitting in the Primal Chair, an imposing piece of furniture intricately carved out of deep mahogany, and a seat she rarely inhabited. The crests of the families that had ruled Greatfalls through the generations surrounded her, sculpted vividly in the dark wood.

Grandmother's eyes snapped to mine as I entered, and her face was grave. Athard stood off her shoulder, an arrogant smirk turning up his lips. The sight of his face made my stomach churn with unspoken frustration.

Grandmother made a sweeping gesture with one hand, and the room emptied of the various other ministers and servants. Jelenna reached out and squeezed my arm. The concern showed on her face.

"Come find me later."

The steward pulled the great wooden doors shut with an ominous bang. I swallowed, my tongue thick in my mouth. I couldn't recall a time when we'd had a truly private conversation here. Grandmother was always surrounded with advisors.

"Are we going to war?" I worked to keep my voice even as I asked the question.

"That's up to you, baby brother," Athard said in a taunting tone. What the hell did that mean?

Grandmother glared at him and he frowned, but at least he stopped talking. She turned back to me. Her face was pale and still. When she spoke, her voice was clear, not betraying any emotion or turmoil.

"The scouts have returned. The Dark Lord Cyrus engaged with them directly and sent along a missive." She gestured at an envelope sitting on the nearby table. It bore the flaming emblem of Ashfuror, glowing with an otherworldly orange light. "He's offered a proposition."

I felt a flutter of anxiety in my chest. Her words unsettled me.

"What could he possibly want from us?"

"He has offered a peace treaty, to end the feints and skirmishes of the past and to forge a true alliance."

"How can we trust him?" I had trouble getting the question out.

"I don't know that we can." Grandmother sighed, brushing a strand of gray hair from her face. "But I also don't know that it matters."

My brows furrowed at her words. What was she getting at? Some deep part of me hummed with alarm.

"According to the scouts," she continued, "he has come with an overwhelming force. We could hold Greatfalls for a long time, years maybe, but if he was determined, he could outlast us. He has the force of a nation behind him. We are but one city."

"We can hold him off," I rebutted. "My people are ready. The Archers are better coordinated and deadlier than they have been in years."

"How many of them are you willing to lose, Skye?" Grandmother asked, her voice a whisper.

"They would all give their lives willingly for Greatfalls."

"Would you want that on your conscience?" Grandmother stood and walked to the large bay window to her right. She gazed out onto the lush greenery of Greatfalls, and beyond that, the sparkling waters of the reservoir.

"He has pledged that Ashfuror will not attack our city as long as his reign lasts." She turned toward me, and for the first time I saw uncertainty flash across her face. "In return for your hand in marriage."

The room got uncomfortably bright, and I felt my lungs seize. I gasped for air, but it was getting caught in my closed throat.

"What…why? Why would he want me?"

"There is…some precedent. Marriage has been used to cement relations between Greatfalls and Ashfuror in the past, although not for two hundred years."

Athard tittered from the corner. "Maybe he heard about your famously uncorrupted virtue." His words dripped with sarcasm.

I was too overwhelmed to retaliate. I fought for control of my body, taking several deep breaths.

"But the marriage bond." I clenched my fists as I clawed my way back to equilibrium. "I know that they don't revere family as we do. Do they bind their souls together as they wed?"

"By all reports, they do." Grandmother's eyes softened. "I do not know if the tie is as strong. They worship a different god than we do. But it is part of the nuptial ritual, yes."

My mind worked hard to organize the information I was receiving. My words were fully disconnected from any conscious thought. "I will bind myself. To the Dark Lord. For a peace treaty."

"It's not about the treaty, not fully."

"What do you mean?" I kept blinking my eyes, trying to cut through my confusion and clear my head so that I could understand.

"It's about the opportunity."

"What opportunity?!?" I had never raised my voice to my grandmother, but I couldn't control myself. My words burst out of me. "He can't be trusted!"

Grandmother didn't get angry. Instead, she flashed me a small, sad smile. "No, love. But with you there, you can take away his greatest power."

I shook my head. That didn't make any sense. Once I was in Ashfuror, I would be under his thumb, and bound to him through marriage. Any injury to him would be an injury to me.

"Don't you know anything?" Athard crossed his arms as he spoke. "It's his crown. It's an artifact of Stahkla."

"I'm supposed to destroy it?"

Athard barked out a laugh. The sound was harsh and cold. "You can't destroy an artifact of the gods."

"How would I know that? I don't have access to the Archive like you do." I glared at him.

Grandmother held up her hand to stop us. She was right. There were far more important things to do than arguing with my brother.

"The crown of Ashfuror gives the Dark Lord the advantage of sight and knowledge of all of Fyr, including Greatfalls. Without it, his ability to govern and to attack is crippled."

"So, if I can't destroy it, what am I being sent to do?" My voice sounded distant to me even as I spoke the words.

"We have an artifact here in Greatfalls, a gift from Vazzart. A dagger with a sapphire handle. With it you can sever the Dark Lord's link to the crown. But it cannot be done while it is on his head. He must take it off, willingly, which Cyrus has never been seen to do."

My eyes went wide as it dawned on me what she was suggesting.

"You want me to marry him. You want me to wait until he takes the crown off in his bedchambers, where I will be in my place as his husband, and cut the link to his power."

"Yes."

My knees went weak. I walked to the large table nearby, pressing my hands down on the sturdy wood as I lowered myself into a small chair.

"You wish me to bind myself to the Dark Lord. To take vows I never planned to take with anyone, and then break them."

"I don't take it lightly, the breaking of a marriage oath," she said, her tone solid and sure. "I would only ever ask such a thing to keep our home safe."

I gripped the wood of the table with my fingertips. I'd made the defense of Greatfalls my life's work, but wasn't this too much? The soul bond would make me vulnerable in a way I'd never allowed myself to be. I would be bound to the son of the man who murdered my parents.

Grandmother must have seen the turmoil on my face. She walked to me, resting her hand gently on the back of my neck. Her touch was soothing.

"It is too much to ask. But I must ask it anyway. Take time. Speak to your friends. Pray to Vazzart. You have some days before the Dark Lord's ambassador arrives. Consider the price of what I am asking you, and the benefit to our people and to our city."

I nodded silently, unable to speak. This was an impossible choice. My duty to Greatfalls or my own integrity. I was too overwhelmed to decide if the price was too high.

Grandmother kissed me gently on the forehead. "Think on it. I know you'll make the right decision."

I didn't have a response. I stood up straight and kissed her on the cheek. I looked into her eyes, wondering if I would see regret or sadness, but there was only love and determination. Turning, I walked out the door of Prime Hall.

The sound of footsteps followed me, and when I reached the antechamber I turned to find my brother. He leaned against the doorframe, a cocky sneer on his face.

"I'll have to think long and hard about who should succeed you as Commander of the Archers."

He was already planning my exile, of course. What an ass.

"I haven't decided if I'm going," I replied.

"Dont be an idiot, Skye. You're going. You always do the dutiful thing. You might torture yourself for a few days, but you love to be the martyr."

I felt rage churn in my gut. Why was he like this? Ever since we were teenagers, he'd made every interaction some kind of obnoxious sibling competition. I remembered those first few years after our parents' deaths, when he'd been the perfect older brother, the only one who understood what I'd been through. The one person I trusted above all else. What had happened to him?

"What is wrong with you?" I spit back the question at him. "Why do you have to make everything so hard?"

Athard strode forward and bent his face down to mine. I couldn't stop myself from flinching.

"Because you always have it easy. Little Skye, Grandmother's favorite child. So good at archery, so fast and agile, and so handsome! Pretty, even, with your pale brown hair and your perfect skin. The perfect leader."

"You are the heir ! What more could you possibly want?"

"So virtuous. Well, now you'll sell your virtue for our peace. Do you think the Dark Lord will be gentle when he takes you for the first time on your wedding night? Or do you think he'll use you for his pleasure and throw you away?"

I'd never lost control before, never let my rage supersede my rational thought. But before I could stop it, my fist flew, and Athard hit the ground with a thump.

I stepped back in shock at my own actions. My brother sprang back up, rubbing his chin and glaring at me.

"When I am Prime, Greatfalls will not welcome you." His voice had a malevolent finality to it. "All you will have left of home will be a fading memory. When Grandmother is gone, there will be no one left to coddle you."

His words stung, but the true pain was at my own violence. Why had I allowed him to get to me?

Seeing that he was unharmed other than his bruised pride, I turned and charged out of the building.

By now dusk had fallen, turning the forest of Greatfalls into a web of shadows. I didn't want to see Jelenna. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I wanted to forget, but I couldn't do that in my small, barely furnished cottage. Instead I took off toward the denser part of the wood, where the trees were close enough together that there were no buildings or people.

I reached the foot of the giant oak and jumped up to grab hold of a limb for leverage, pulling myself up and shimmying up the trunk. I pulled myself up to the higher branches, where I found my treasure.

It was still there, if a little worse for wear. A hammock, a ragged remnant of my childhood. It had been my refuge during the years after my parents death. When I fought with Athard, or I was simply overcome with anger and sadness, I escaped to this perch, hidden among the boughs.

I lay on my back and watched as the gray of dusk gave way to the deep navy of night. One by one, the stars peeked through the thick darkness, until the sky was a field of white sparks.

As I drifted off to sleep, I thought not of dark lords and arranged marriages, but of my mother's smile. My memory of her had faded as the years went by, a tapestry worn away by time and the elements, but her smile stayed clear and bright. I imagined how she might have been dressed on my wedding day, in maroon or turquoise maybe, her brow adorned with flowers.

Her kind face blessing my future.