Page 140 of Bloodguard

Another round of trumpets sounds, proclaiming Vitor has something to say. That’s glorious. Fine. Say it. The sooner he’s done singing his own praises, the sooner Maeve and I can get back home.

But he doesn’t stand. Ugeen, that bald dimwit, does instead, his robes of gold paling him further.

A young pageboy runs forward, hanging on to his floppy red hat with a wide brim. “All rise for Lord Ugeen,” he says in a small voice.

It takes more than a moment for everyone to get to their feet. The royals clap within their ring. Others from the Commons and Middling follow but not many. Regardless, Ugeen smiles with his hands in the air as ifhewon the damn fight.

“My, what a feat. What a feat indeed, young gladiator!” He’s clapping, but who the hell is he kidding? Asshole is probably clapping for himself.

His voice booms across the arena, his hands rising once more.

“It’s time to celebrate, friends, not only in praise of our distinguished gladiator’s monumental accomplishment but in celebration of a royal wedding.”

Bloody hell. He’s here to announce his engagement? Can’t this prick see he lost half his audience by bringing that fucked-up crime against nature into the arena?

“Shall we meet her?” he asks no one in particular. Some clap lightly, still disturbed by Aumen and my fight. But everyone turns to see the lucky royal dumbass who will end up with another dumbass.

“See them, revere them, and praise them,” Ugeen shouts, attempting to rile an audience he’s losing. “Behold. Arrow’s future king and queen!”

Ugeen lifts a crown from a velvet pillow.

My breath freezes in my lungs. I don’t know what’s real or not, unable to believe what my eyes are showing me.

No… Not…No!

Maeve,my Maeve, steps out wearing a bejeweled gold dress, her face hidden behind a veil. But it is her. I’d know her anywhere.

She’s led to Soro’s side.

He kisses her hand.

She curtsies to him.

Along the stands, some continue to clap. Others go still, the mix of confusion, resentment, and surprise keeping them silent.

Strong limbs band my arms to my side. The force required to keep me in place makes the soldiers grunt and tremble.

Ugeen lifts a rope of braided gold, blue, and green ribbon between Soro and Maeve.

“Soro of Revlis,” he says, “beloved son of Vitor of Revlis, High Lord and General, Fist of the Law, Champion of Arrow, Ultimate Victor, and God of War, will marry Maeve of Iamond, Healer of Ails, Princess of Arrow and granddaughter of Avianna of Iamond, Finest Queen of Arrow, the Ultimate Sword of Justice, the Wisdom of One Thousand Truths, and Mother of Righteousness, on the day of her twenty-first year.”

It feels as though Ugeen’s animated words rip the flesh from my ears in bone-rattling pain with each syllable, singeing them into the remains so with every thrum of my pulse, the words reverberate and scald me.

Soro regards her with startling determination and unmitigated triumph.

Maeve turns to face me as Ugeen binds the end of the braided rope to Soro’s wrist. I can’t read her expression. That veil keeps it hidden.

It feels like daggers ablaze with fire puncture my organs and pin them to my bones. “No…” I say.

Ugeen rocks back and forth on his feet in delight. He lifts Maeve’s hand, binding it to Soro.

“The promise is made!” Soro bellows, a sick grin spreading across his face. Though his words are addressed to the crowd, he stares directly at me. “And you’re all invited to celebrate.”

Maeve’s free hand shakes—no, motions in a way that tells me not to do anything.

And she thinks I’ll actually follow it!

“What’s this shit?” I demand.

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