Page 5 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

My mom cuts off Luc’s quiet objection with a wave of her hand.

“Wait, you have been talking about me and didn’t think I should have been present for that?” I ask.

“Your brothers are just being ridiculous. We’re not going back on our promise. Tamara will marry Frederick, and that is that,” she states. My stomach sinks, my thoughts returning to the marking on my skin. There is no way I can head off to court if I develop markings without having any magic. And what if the markings of a cursed one don’t look like those of a gifted one?

Are they linked to anything else? I think of the way I sense magic now and become a little faint.

I’m not looking forward to marrying a stranger, but disappointing my family would be much worse.

“Go over to room two and get out of that ghastly armor,” my mother demands, and I do as asked.

I’m in my tunic and pants while she takes measurements. She runs the measuring tape down my arm and rubs over the still tender skin on my elbow during the process. I wince, and of course she notices.

“Did you hurt yourself during training? Let me see.” Mom reaches for my sleeve, and I pull my arm away.

“I’m fine, Mom. It’s just a scratch, and I’m quite adept at tending to my wounds by now, thank you.”

“Are you still prickly that we didn’t ask you to join us?” she asks.

“What do you think? Would you like it if we discussed your future without informing you?”

“It was by no means a planned meeting. Your brothers ambushed me… They think it isn’t safe for you to be at court, but I think once your intended cares, there will be no place safer.”

I have to tell her.

“But, Mom—”

“Don’t start,” she snaps. “This is important … for you … for us. If we pull out of this arrangement, there will be questions. With questions comes attention, and I hope I don’t have to explain it. That is the last thing we want.” Her chest heaves, and she turns away to note down the last measurements with angry strokes. “Simply do what you are told for once. Now go change, and I want to see you in a dress for the festivities.”

“Yes, Mom,” I sigh. I can’t disappoint her. I have to make this work, and the only thing I can think of so far is to become a skyrider.

The wind starts picking up when I leave the infirmary and head back to my room to change. I look up at the fast-moving clouds. A storm is moving in.

Two guards hurry by, ignoring me, but otherwise, the courtyard is empty and quiet, a strange sight since someone is usually always around.

Four riders pass through the gate. I don’t recognize them, but their uniform declares them part of my brother’s forces. One of them spots me and shouts something, but the wind sweeps his words away before they reach me.

The horses’ chests and flanks heave, their coats are slick with sweat, and steam rolls off their bodies.

Someone was in a hurry to get here. Poor horses.

The man who spotted me is marching in my direction now. He seems to be about Dar’s age and not much taller than me. His dark hair is short, and his face is in a scowl. He is broad-shouldered and fit like all the men here.

“Didn’t you hear me, boy? Our horses need to be tended to,” he snaps before his gaze travels down my body. He draws to a stop, realizing his mistake.

Maybe it’s my angular face or that nobody expects to see women in leather, but it’s not the first time someone mistook me for one of the stable boys. Not that I’m dressed like them.

I smirk while his slanted eyebrows relax, then wander up in surprise.

“Are there female soldiers in the army now?” the man asks playfully. Why are they all asking that today? The way I dress doesn’t even come close to their uniform.

“Not that I know of.” I smile.

“Well, that’s a damn shame.” His gaze wanders over my body again. “They would look much prettier in our uniforms than we do.”

I laugh. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Who said I was complimenting you?” He sends me a wicked grin.

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