Page 6 of To No End

Thinking of the ways in which my parents would fake my disappearance was beyond depressing, and I immediately sought to distract myself. If I was never to return or speak toanyone I know or love again, then the only believable reason was that I had died.

If letters went with no reply, if visits went unplanned, there had to be a culmination to this lie. Because forever was what the Offering demanded.

I had to focus. I had things to do and time was already dwindling. My sister knew me too well. We were one soul split in two. Sometimes, I think she knew my motives before I did.

“What are you going to do before you leave?” she eyed me mischievously. “I hope it’s absolutely debaucherous.”

I let out a high-pitched cackle because she thought just like I did. Make the most of everything. I smiled at her and gave an equally deviant look back when I replied, “I have some ideas…”

My sister and I sat in the dining hall, sipping on warm tea and enjoying sweet rolls. I added two extras to my plate and chomped away obnoxiously because, if I had no future, who gave a damn about maintaining one’s figure for training, attracting a spouse, or otherwise. I slapped a heap of butter onto the second roll as my mother and father entered the hall.

As they made their way toward us, my mother’s deep red hair contrasted dramatically in the sunlight against the pale lilac gown she donned. It was not a flattering combination.

Normally, they sat at the complete opposite end from Versa and I, which often led to feeling like we were eating breakfast separately. They must be feeling sentimental—or wanting to listen in closely to ensure I kept up with the lie.

“Morning,” my father said nonchalantly.

With my mouth stuffed full of sweet rolls, I figured I’d throw them a bone by showing them I had already been ambushed. “Father, you’ll have to let me borrow some of your maps for myvoyage,” I quipped dryly while eying him and shoving another bite in my mouth.

My mother was already displeased with the curt manner of my speech, complemented by the completely unladylike behavior I was displaying with my food. Something absolutely out of character for a daughter of a High Fae family whose upbringing most definitely included all things etiquette.

I slurped my cup of mint tea for good measure. My prompt caught them both by surprise, but they quickly recovered and played along.

“Of course, darling,” my father nodded, helping himself to the spread. “I’m sure the Seafarers will have their own, but it doesn’t hurt to have extra. After all, none are as detailed as mine.”

My mother nodded in agreement and spared us a fake smile before sipping from her steaming cup. I glanced at Versa, who was completely buying it, and almost disinterested, as she began glancing through the sketches of her wedding gown options. She’d only changed her mind fifty times, but who could blame her; everyone was going to be looking at her.

Before I even knew what I was saying, I spoke with conviction, “Since I have such little time to prepare before I have to leave, I just wanted you to be aware I will be very busy.” I paused expecting someone to interject, but they didn’t, so I continued, “I have some affairs to get in order, some friends to say goodbye to—you know, typical things…” I almost snorted at how formal I sounded, when all I was really trying to say was that I was not going to be around much since I’d be busy checking things off a ridiculous list I’d made before the king destroyed my life.

I could tell my sister was only half listening since all she did was chime in to offer, “But you’ll make time for my dress fitting and provide some help planning, right?”

I rolled my eyes. She didn’t take notice since hers were still plastered on the dress sketches. She had no idea the severity ofmy situation; how could I fault her for thinking her wedding list was more important than my end-of-freedom list?

My mother and father eyed me intently, because unlike her, they did understand. And, although they had no idea what I’d be pursuing, they had already understood that whatever these days entailed would be of my own making.

My mother, trying to keep up the act of just another casual morning, turned to my sister and quietly began to discuss the details of the nuptials.

Shoving another bite of breakfast into my mouth, I turned to my father, tilting my head with a complacent smile that read,How am I doing?

I was almost feeling cocky enough to throw my feet up on the table, but then Versa would have been tipped off that something was truly awry if I was going to push my father’s limits unnecessarily. I kept my feet planted under the table like a lady should, but slumped my posture a little in defiance.

My father grinned, his thin dark beard framing the corners of his lips as he continued to play along. “I am sure you’re going to love your time at sea, but we should make sure you pack accordingly. You’ll need something more practical, as gowns won’t be needed on the decks.”

I tried to hide my scowl as I replied in between bites of breakfast, “Yes, I think my fighting leathers, trousers, blouses, and boots would all be better suited.”

At the mention of my attire, Versa finally squeaked in alarm, “Fighting leathers! Father, what are you sending her off to do? I hope she won’t have a need for that. I pray she doesn’t run into those barbarians or their kind; please tell me she’ll be safe with whoever her captain is!”

I knew what barbarians she was referring to. Years ago, there was an uprising led by a group of Seafarers against themerchants. They blockaded the port, took hostages, and killed indiscriminately to prove their viciousness was not a bluff.

They felt the merchants guild had become too powerful and were taking advantage of the Seafarers. Their kind weren’t overly keen on negotiations, so the disagreement began with bloodshed rather than diplomacy. The horrors they inflicted were practically war crimes. There wasn’t an ounce of etiquette or decorum, and my father described how the once beautiful blue bay that sparkled with seafoam was painted in blood and driftwood from destroyed ships and lives taken. To make things even more salacious, the rebels were led by a Seafarer who was, in fact, High Fae. It was treason for members of the High Court to turn on one another.

This was a very difficult time for my family as my mother, sister and I waited for what seemed like an eternity to hear any news of my father and his well-being.

Night after night we’d go to bed crying. I remember Versa and I slept together most of those nights, clinging to one another for some small sense of comfort. While his guild’s fleet had lost many ships and lives, he returned to us unscathed but extremely shaken. He would not speak in detail of the atrocities he had witnessed, but one night, I had eavesdropped on him and my mother. I never shared the details of what I’d heard with Versa, and as for myself, I wish I could take back my curiosity from that evening.

My father’s jaw clenched at the memory of the barbarians, “No Versa, of course not. She’ll be under the protection of people I trust completely. Plus, they finally caught up with that evil scoundrel who incited that entire uprising, and he will be tortured and imprisoned for eternity.”

My father paused, appearing in deep thought, probably suffering flashbacks. “Death isn’t good enough for him,” he added bitterly.

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