“My son and his betrothed stand before you, a symbol of hope and light against Heliconia’s darkness.” Murmurs rose at her name, but Duron spoke right over them. He looked out over the audience, fire burning in his eyes now. “You saw the richness of my lands as you arrived. Untouched by that bitch’s curse.” I flinched at the viciousness in his tone. “My power protects us all. United with Summer, we are made stronger. United all, we will defeat her forever.”
Across the room, Talthis was glowering.
“I hope our friends from neighboring courts, if they are here tonight, will consider joining us in this fight,” Duron went on. “Witness the binding of these two souls as a symbol of hope and a promise for our future. Let us begin.”
My heart thudded.
“Hey,” Callan whispered. “Just concentrate on me. We’re almost there.”
He flashed an encouraging smile, and I took a tiny step away from him, refusing to let him touch me again.
Duron turned to Callan and said, “My son and my heir, do you take Aurelia Valeen, daughter of Tyrion and Celeste Valeen, as your wedded mate and make a binding vow before this court and the world to wed her?”
The entire room seemed to hold its breath as I looked at Callan, waiting for him to utter the words that would bind us.
“Yes,” Callan said. “I take Aurelia Valeen for my wedded mate.”
“And Aurelia, do you take Callan Ashfall as your wedded?—”
“No.” My answer rang out loud and clear.
Beside me, Callan made a soft sound as if he’d been struck.
Murmurs began, but Duron’s face flushed red. “Silence!” he screamed. “You will make your vow,” he hissed at me. “Or you will?—”
“I refuse Callan Ashfall,” I said, louder this time.
Duron stared at me, clearly at a loss. After all his threats, he hadn’t expected me to defy him. But I needed the courts to hear me reject him. The last thing I needed was for someone to drag me back here, thinking I’d defected from a marriage contract.
The quiet that followed my declaration was more shock than obedience to Duron, but it quickly deepened into something more.
Something wrong.
I prayed to the Fates and the Furiosities that my plan had worked.
A scream tore through the room, echoing off the walls. My head snapped toward the sound just as a rush of putrid magic washed over me, thick and nauseating. At the back, the doors that led to the patio and the gardens beyond flew open.
Rotting, waning magic poured inside.
Along with the Withered.
Some had cloaks pulled over their faces. Some had tossed their hoods back to reveal their wrinkled, sunken features. All of them wielded swords and wore looks of pure wrath.
The crowd scattered in panicked waves as they came—foul, twisted figures with hollow, black eyesand gnarled limbs. I realized the Withered I’d seen in the street that day had been the healthier, stronger ones. Some of these were clearly much farther gone than the others. Outrage burned inside me at what their king had done to them.
The chaos heightened as the Withered surged closer. Duron was whisked away by a dozen armed guards. Gone in an instant.
Callan yelled for me to run.
But I only smiled grimly at the sight of my new friends joining the fray.
Callan drew his sword, an ornamental thing meant to match his royal wedding uniform, and pointed it at the Withered fighting to get past the line of guards who’d rushed forward to meet them. Well, that was new, at least.
I started for the back doors, aiming for the gardens where Vanya had promised to leave my leathers and swords.
Then I saw him—Rydian, shoving his way toward me through the chaos, his gaze locked on mine. Shadows poured out of him, punching out with fists of their own or shaping themselves into blades that cut a path through anyone in his way. Some of those shadows had eyes that glowed like a demon’s. Every one of them was its own unique nightmare.
Most scurried away from the mere sight of the creatures he conjured. But I was drawn to the look he wore, the relentless and utter determination etched in every line of his brow and in the flex of his jaw.