Page 42 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
EVIE
Ishook my head, blinking up at him. “Say that again.”
Because there was no way the mighty prince of the Blood Brotherhood had trekked all the way here to find out if–
“Do you like your new house?” he asked once more.
I was unsure if this was some kind of test. Maybe he’d take it back if he knew the truth.
It wasn’t as tall as the other buildings, but it felt stable and strong. It smelled fresh, like new possibilities, and had a luscious, wild garden in the back I stared at more than I’d like to admit.
“Yes, I do.”
“Good,” he said. “It deserves to have life inside it again.”
The front garden was still a sandy wasteland, but sizzles came from the kitchen and a sweet scent burned through the hallways from the army of candles. I turned on the spot, taking it all in, from up the painted walls, down to the gate. The guards still hadn’t moved. The slightest frown barely pinched the skinbetween my brows. But, of course, Zandyr noticed. Eyes like a hawk, this one.
“They can’t come in unless ordered,” he said.
“They can’t do a lot of things. Why are you punishing them if they let me out of their sight? That’s insane. I can handle myself.”
“Not against a trained adversary. At least not yet,” he said. “And they’re not my guards to punish.”
I frowned. “Doesn’t your family rule any and all in the Blood Brotherhood?”
“Except the Phoenix Peak guards. Safety precaution and tradition, in case one of us royals goes insane and someone has to kill us to save the Clan.”
“Is that a common occurrence?”
“Depends on who you ask. Great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Ryujin developed a strange, unnatural attraction to statues in his old age. Though he was more interested in building edifices for his dead wife than destroying the Capital.” He rolled his shoulders back, gazing at the building.
“I hope he didn’t go anywhere near Dria Vegheara’s statue–if you really do have it here. You know what’s the best part about this house?” I bit the inside of my cheek. “It’s big enough for when my cousins come to visit.”
“And for when we will live together, after the wedding,” Zandyr turned to me. “But your cousins can’t visit until then. At least officially.”
I skipped over whatever the underworld living-together-after-the-wedding-meant and focused on the more pressing issue. “Why would us being married matter? They’re just guests.”
“Because strangers aren’t allowed in the Capital, andespeciallynot in Phoenix Peak. But after the wedding, they’ll become official relatives of a Blood Brotherhood member.”
My shoulders slackened. “Me.”
“You.”
I shook my head. I missed my cousins more than I could put into words, especially around Zandyr. “So many rules.”
“You say that like it’s a problem. But they’re the reason you can trust that what I’m saying will happen.”
I huffed a laugh. “I trust you about as much as you trust me. So let’s just say I’ll hold you to that promise and pretend I mean it.”
“You and–” His slender fingers went inside a pocket of his armor and took out a piece of parchment, yellowing at the edges, and handed it to me. It looked like it had seen more summers than me. “–the marriage contract.”
My breath caught in my throat. The contract. The piece of paper that had haunted my parents until their deaths. I held it with shaky hands. Such a small thing. A few words that had changed so many lives.
The clauses were as basic as Zandyr had hinted at. No cheating, no killing each other, no trying to destroy the other’s Clan.
“The Protectorate member and the Blood Brotherhood member agree to share a meal at least once a week, to facilitate understanding, wellbeing, and trust between the Clans,” I read out loud. How uncharacteristically romantic of Clans.
“So we don’t forget how the other looks,” he said.
