Page 11 of Seduced By Darkness
Staying in her tent isn’t an option. The maids will gossip, and then Mother will want to know what’s going on.
Andraste leans closer, resting her chin on my shoulder as she examines the masterpiece she’s made of my hair. “I don’t know if you can avoid this fate, Vi. I’ll help you. I’ll try to speak to Mother, but you know how she gets. My influence is limited, at best.”
And you don’t want to lose your precious seat at her side.
I look away.
“But maybe you don’t have to give him everything. Etan likes your innocence, and all men like to know they’re the first—maybe they’re afraid they won’t be able to hold up to the memory of any others? But you don’t have to give it to him. Maybe you don’t have the choice in who you will marry, but the gift of your virginity? That’s yours to gift as you please, Vi.”
“What?” My jaw drops open.
“Youhaven’t signed the contract,” she points out. “As far as Mother knows you are unaware of her plans, as she no doubt intended. The fires will burn for the next three nights while the queens meet. The wine will flow. The dancing will leave us all with blistered feet and sore heads. You’re not expected to do anything other than be seen to be enjoying yourself.”
“That’s not exactly helpful.”
“You want a choice?” Something dangerous beckons in her pretty blue eyes. “Then this is your chance to make that choice. If Etan wants your virginity then deny him that pleasure.”
“I can’t just sleep with a stranger!”
“Why not?” She gives a shrug. “That’s what I do every Lammastide. This is the one night of the year where no one knows who I am. It’s the one night of the year I can be… free.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever wondered if she feels the same way I do—trapped by the circumstance of our birth.
Could I do it?
Could I take a lover?
“And what happens afterward?”
Andraste’s lashes smother her eyes. “I will see if I can convince Mother this alliance is not in our best interest.”
Neither of us holds much hope of that. It’s written all over her.
My mother rules Asturia with an iron fist. The whims of her daughters are never taken into consideration. We are pawns for her to move about at whim.
“There,” she whispers, stepping back. “There’s some color in your cheeks now. Get dressed. Meet us by Mother’s tent. Hopefully by then, you’ll have made a decision.”
She leaves as I stare at myself in the mirror.
Find someone.
A shiver runs through me.
I’ll need more than that if I’m to escape this trap.
Because I will never marry Etan of the Goldenhills.
Not even if I have to kill him myself.
3
Thiago
“Why does she have to look so smug?” Thalia demands, glaring across the clearing at the Queen of Asturia.
Adaia sits upon a gilded throne before the bonfires, her expression cool and serene. A red velvet gown clings to her breasts and falls to the floor. Her pale shoulders are bare, the gown looped around her throat with a golden collar. Rings glitter on her fingers and a golden snake curls around her upper arm. It’s far more muted than anything I’ve ever seen her wear, but the mask makes up for it.
Glorious red, blue and gold feathers, somewhat akin to a plucked parrot, cascade over her forehead. Her golden hair is slicked back and falls down her spine.
