Page 109 of Bride of Ice
Deirdre’s calm voice belied the impact of her words. “The king has arranged a marriage for you.”
Hallie’s world seemed to suddenly tilt off its axis.
A marriage?
Surely she’d heard wrong.
“A marriage?” Her voice came out on a faint wheeze.
“Aye.”
She felt ill.
A silent scream built in her throat.
Nowa bridegroom had been chosen for her?
Now,when she’d just met her perfect match?
It couldn’t be true, she told herself. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when she’d only last night cast her die upon the table of fate and come up with a winning number.
Surely there was some mistake.
Her aunts were fond of mischief. Perhaps it was all a grand jest on their part, meant to rattle her.
But a quick glance at their guilty faces told her the truth. Her future had been decided. She’d been promised to another.
She swallowed back grief. Her heart ached as if mortally wounded.
Swiftly, before it could crack apart, she erected a frosty coat of armor around it. If she couldn’t protect her feelings, she’d hold them together with duty and dignity.
She clenched her fists and her jaw, telling herself she had always known it would be thus. She had always known she was a pawn to be sacrificed for Rivenloch’s gain.
It had been folly to imagine it would be otherwise. To imagine she’d somehow be allowed to have a husband of her own choosing.
“I see,” Hallie said, strangling her tears.
She did see. It was written in their faces. Though her mother sought her approval of the match, they all desperately hoped Hallie would give them no grief. After all, Jenefer’s fate relied upon Hallie’s cooperation. And defying the king was a risky prospect.
Pain filled her heart. Despair drowned her soul. But she somehow managed to choke out, “Then I suppose I must make plans.”
Her Aunt Helena’s sigh of relief was unsubtle. “That’s half the battle then.”
Miriel cuffed her for her rudeness. She addressed Hallie gently. “I’m sure Jenefer will be so grateful.”
Her mother smiled proudly at her sisters. “I told you Hallie would do the right thing.”
Those words of praise should have made Hallie glow. Instead, her answering smile was forced and numb with cold. Mustering as much dignity as she could, she nodded her head in farewell, and moved toward the door.
Her mother asked, “Hallie? Don’t you want to know who your betrothed is?”
“Nay.” It wasn’t Colban. That was all that mattered. “What difference does it make?”
She would let no one see her cry. She managed to leave the solar, concealing her suffering and containing her tears all the way back to her bedchamber. But by the time she reached her door, her eyes were bleary with moisture, and her throat ached with grief.
Only when she was safely behind the closed door did she bury her face in her hands. Then her tears spilled forth like the waters of a rain-swollen spring.
“Hallie?”
