Page 9 of A Dagger in the Ivy

“But now,” my uncle continues, “the next challenge has unfolded. Refugees are fleeing Dulcamar in droves because of the Shadow Tsar and his cursed carnoraxis, and both Hedera and Podrosa are turning the people away at the borders. But it was important to Bennett to take them in, to set them up in camps, despite the fact that our own people are starting to go hungry.”

I nod, straightening my shoulders. “And he was right in doing so. I’m not well-versed in politics, but I know what’s right. We don’t turn away people in need. I agree with his plan.”

“But it seems there are many in Delasurvia who do not agree. And the backlash has caused a rift. Not only between our people, but between us and other lands.” Uncle Kormak sighs, stretching out his legs. “We’re stretched thin, Celeste. Mersos refuses to trade with us because they don’t support Dulcamarans, blaming them for the carnoraxis menace. Mersos holds the largest resources in Terre Ferique, and we can’t survive without their goods. But Mersos has made it clear they intend to stop supporting us if we continue to take in refugees from Dulcamar. They see it as dealing with terrorists, and it’s cutting us off from the supplies we desperately need.” His eyes meet mine, pleading for understanding.

I abstain from biting the inside of my cheek. “What should we do?”

He looks me over and sighs, and I ready myself for whatever strategy he is about to deliver. From the look on his face, it must not be a pleasantplan.

“Celeste,” my uncle begins, his eyes narrowing with a discerning gaze, “there are two possible roads to choose. I will present both options to you and let you decide what you think is best.”

“All right.” I steel myself for the decision I must make.

“The first possibility comes from the kingdom of Podrosa.” He takes his time speaking to me so that I can wrap my head around the details. “I’m sure you remember Lady Marette of Podrosa. Her brother, Marcos, is just a year your junior, and their father, Lord Osion Trevose, would like Marcos to take a bride. A union with them would smooth over the rather upsetting way Lady Marette’s relationship with Bennett ended.”

My brows lower. Before I can even form a thought on his words, he continues.

“This may help Mersos see us a kinder nation, and perhaps they would agree to trade with us again.”

I catalogue that option in my head. “Noted.”

“The second option involves a long-ago negotiation your father made with King Silas Copperhammer of Hedera. Mersos has no quarrels with Hedera. In fact, Hedera provides Mersos with the majority of their income, income they would not be keen on losing. A union of our lands would solidify a trade agreement with Mersos.”

“Union.” I repeat the word, knowing what he means but not allowing myself to embrace it.

“Not only that, but they could boost our military forces. Not just with soldiers, but with weapons. They have the wealth to expand our army, along with the trade agreement with Mersos that would help the people of Delasurvia, to keep them from starving.”

My mind whirls. “I don’t understand. Why would Hedera be willing to help us? I know, long ago, Father was friends with King Silas. But from what I understand, they had a falling-out.”

“A dispute that died with your father. King Silas is willing to make amends, so long as we can guarantee an alliance with Hedera.”

His words sink in, and a knot tightens in my stomach. I keep my expression neutral, masking the turmoil beneath the surface. My uncle, aman molded by the harsh realities of war, rarely shows vulnerability. Yet his hesitancy tells me my part in this is bigger than I imagined. I know what he’s going to say, but I can’t bring myself to speak the words.

“Before your brother took to his deathbed, he arranged a meeting with King Silas and agreed to terms of a marriage between you and King Silas’s son, Prince Torbin.”

Marriage. The notion seems absurd, a twist of fate I hadn’t seen coming. My mind races, searching for reasons, any logical explanation to refute this abrupt decision.

“Uncle, a marriage alliance—whether with Podrosa or Hedera—is an old-world solution to solve problems. Surely, there’s another way. I would be sacrificing my freedom for the sake of political posturing.”

His eyes soften for a fraction of a second, a subtle acknowledgment of my concerns. “I understand this is a lot to ask of you. I know how important your freedom is to you. But this isn’t just about you. This is about Delasurvia. And unfortunately, we are in a dire situation. Hedera has the resources and connections we lack. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s a good deal. It may be our only hope at this point. Hedera can save our land, our people. They will strengthen our military. It’s a strategic move, not just a political one.”

Behind my uncle, hanging on the wall, is a tapestry adorned with the map of Terre Ferique. I glare at the map, frustration simmering beneath my skin.

“And if you choose Prince Torbin, you wouldn’t be marrying a stranger.” My uncle rises from his chair and comes closer to place a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve met him. You used to play together.”

I scoff. “That was ages ago. I think we were nine. I haven’t seen him since.”

“I think you were twelve, and he was fourteen.”

I resist rolling my eyes. “It was still over a decade ago.” My mind flashes with long-ago memories of our family traveling to Hedera to visit the Copperhammers, but the memories have mostly faded to the back of my mind. Though the prince and I spent some time together when we were young, I can’t say that I have any idea what he is like. Besides, a lothas happened between when I was twelve and now.

“Prince Torbin is a good and decent man. Quite fond of the hunt, I hear, and he has a solid reputation among the courts. It would be a good match.”

I wring my hands, trying to wrap my head around the idea of being bound to someone.

“Of course, you may choose Lord Marcos, if that is your will.”

My will is to choose no one, but I do not say it.

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