Page 152 of Fearless

Two, three, four…

My fingers fiddle with the lacy flowers cascading down my body.

Seven, eight, nine…

I swing the door open.

Kitt is gone, leaving the hall empty, with the exception of several stationed Imperials. At my slippered feet sits a wooden box, embellished with intricate carvings. Its lid is covered in deep swirls that vaguely resemble Ilya’s crest, while small drawers line the long length.

Picking it up swiftly, I slip back into my room. Decades of dust dulls the beautiful box, seemingly frozen in time with the exception of several fingerprints. I set it carefully on the bed and am about to follow when I notice that forgotten piece of parchment on my bedside table.

The note has sat there since Kai’s unexpected visit and was quickly forgotten at the sight of my dagger in his hands. Now, I abandon every thought for what is etched into that paper. My heart races as I reach for it, unfurling each edge beneath my fingertips.

His handwriting is neat with consideration. These are words he has ached to say. And time slows painfully as I wallow within them.

I know how you refuse to thank the Plague. It is understandable, admirable, even, how valiantly you despisethe thing that made your survival so difficult. But I do thank the Plague. I whisper my gratitude for it when you are sound asleep in my arms, when your fingers flick the tip of my nose. In the quiet moments, I thank the Plague for you. If it weren’t for the dividing of Ordinaries and Elites so many years ago, I would have never found my way to you. My coins are always at risk in your presence, but no saving of my life would have been necessary that day. No Silencers. No Purging Trials. No stolen moments under the willow. When I thank the Plague, it is not for the power it has gifted me, but for the privilege of you. Nothing makes me stronger than the weakness that is you, Paedyn Gray. And if, in the next lifetime, you choose to steal from me again, I would happily give you my soul if it meant a place beside yours. But until then, I will watch you become another’s reason to thank the Plague. You, Pae, are my inevitable.

(I love you.)

I’m paralyzed by every bittersweet sentence. Grief and acceptance mingle between each syllable to leave me staring numbly at the blur of ink. The words flow from a place he rarely lets another into—his heart.

He is a poet. A fool. A man writing his final goodbye.

I shake my head at the note, unable to let him go so easily—

A knock at the door shatters my silent mourning for the boy I cannot have.

“Come in.” The books atop my bedside table tremble as I shove the note into the drawer beneath with the others. Calum slips into the room, blond hair combed back and suit pressed neatly. I manage a weak smile. “Is it time?”

“It is.” He approaches me slowly. “Just get through this first ceremony.”

I can’t seem to decide if I want to laugh or cry. “Yes, and then I’ll have to endure the second one on Loot.”

Calum’s smile is solemn, and it’s a familiar sight on his face. “One thing at a time, Paedyn.”

“Right.” I nod, gather my courage, and stride toward the door. With one last sweeping gaze over my chamber, I say goodbye to the girl who inhabited it. Because today, she becomes a queen. Awife.

My eyes land on that bedside table where my heart remains, shoved aside for the future of this kingdom. Then they stutter over that jewelry box atop my bed. I waver in the doorway, reminded how I hadn’t picked out a piece of jewelry like Kitt asked.

“Paedyn, we have to go.”

I turn toward Calum and the slight urgency in his voice. With a distant nod, I stride from the room.

There is always the next ceremony.

We walk in silence down the halls. Calum must sense my unease and graciously gives me a moment to myself. Or maybe it’s just my panicked thoughts that tell him I am in no mood for conversation. I hide shaking fingers in the many folds of my dress, curling my nails into the lace.

My heart pounds as we near the throne room. Sunlight streams through the many windows surrounding us to decorate this dark day with light. I blow out a breath as we round a corner, as if that alone could calm the swelling terror within me.

Surely, we will not go through with this wedding. Something will happen to stop this insanity. Kai will steal me away, or perhaps his brother will simply come to his senses. But there cannot possibly be a union at the end of that aisle.

I realize, as we halt before the throne room doors, that I never intended to make it to this day. Even when I let Kitt slip that ring on myfinger, I hadn’t imagined we would ever get the chance to solidify that symbol with vows. I did not even expect to survive the Trials, let alone live to see my wedding day.

And after everything I have faced, this may be the most terrifying of them all.

I don’t get the chance to run from my future before the doors are swinging open.

Horrified, I stand there, watching my wedding slowly sprawl before me. My view of the throne room grows wider, displaying dozens of flowers with every inch. The mass of people only grows, all standing on either side of that rose-framed aisle. And when the doors groan to a halt, every eye turns to me.

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