Page 43 of Seduced By Darkness
She sighs and leans back on her hands. “Do you know why I wanted you to find someone?”
Stillness creeps through my heart. We haven’t confided in each other like this for years. “Why?”
Andraste stares blankly at the tent wall in front of her. “Because I wanted one of us to be happy. I want that for you, Vi.” Her lashes obscure her eyes. “Because none of the rest of us are ever going to get it.”
I swallow. Hard. “I’m trapped by a marriage contract I can’t get out of. I’m fairly certain that’s not my happily-ever-after.”
“You promised Mother you would sign Maren’s contract,” she replies astutely. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the exact words you used.” She pushes to her feet, looking far older than me in this moment. “I don’t know how you can get out of this arrangement, but I do know you have a chance. You have time, Vi. You want to make your own choices? Then start playing the game. You don’t have the luxury of being a little girl anymore. Fight her. Fight back. But don’t do it overtly.”
That’s easy for her to say….
She’s the favored one. She can do no wrong. She’s so fucking perfect it makes my heart squeeze up tight and small.
“I’ll think about it,” I mutter.
Andraste pauses with her hand on the tent flap. “I shouldn’t ask, but was it good? Was he kind to you?”
I sink my chin into my knees, heat flaring through my cheeks.
She laughs. “Good. I’m glad he was chivalrous enough to show you what pleasure means. Now stop being a little pet. Unsheathe your claws and play that bitch right back.”
Then she’s gone and I notice she didn’t push me on the details.
Because she doesn’t want to know.
If she doesn’t know, then she can’t betray me.
I don’t know why that little thought gives me heart. Maybe my relationship with my sister isn’t entirely ruined.
“Maybe you should count your blessings,” I grumble to myself, “because at least you don’t have to dance with Etan tonight.”
I sink back onto my narrow bed, hauling the blankets up over my face.
What am I going to do? How did this happen?
“Why did you let me do this?” I beg Maia.
There’s no answer from the goddess.
There never is.
I groan and roll onto my side, and as I do, paper crinkles near my ear. Odd. I throw the blankets back, but there’s nothing there. Running a hand beneath my pillow, I find a folded scrap of parchment, barely two inches wide.
Meet me, it says.Same time. Same place. We need to talk.
I sit up abruptly. How did it get in here? Mother’s encampment is almost more formidable than a prison when she’s at camp.
I’ve never seen that writing before, but I know who it belongs to. There’s an impatient slant to the letters as if it was written in a hurry.
Or as if he wrote it several times before screwing up each individual attempt, and finally jotted down the basics.
We need to talk.
My heart skips a beat. To meet him is foolish and dangerous.
But it I don’t, then what will he do? What will he say?
Will he tell my mother?
