Page 124 of Severed Heir

“You wasted days hiring a seamstress when I already had one of Veravine’s gowns picked out for you. You’re lucky my father didn’t auction them off.”

“I won’t stain her legacy with my misery,” I said. “And if this really is our wedding, I deserve a choice.”

That wordourmade something flicker in him. A smile, almost. He nodded twice. “Meet me in the courtyard in five minutes.” Then he closed the door behind him.

I let out a loud sigh.

Gailyn touched my hand. “Gods, he’s needy.” Her eyes widened. “Forgive me, it’s been decades since I’ve had to act proper in an elite estate.”

I glanced at the gown, hemmed just past my shins. “No need to be proper.” I lifted one knee and twirled. “And the gown? Perfectlength for running.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Our marriage would be tainted, soured like wine pressed from rotten fruit. I had believed in love once, back when I was a child. I believed in that delicate hand meant to guide me home, in wide doe eyes that understood before the heart ever could.

I had heard the stories of Serpent daughters bartered away as peace offerings. Sons, too. But now, as the bitter juice touched my tongue and silver lace gripped tight around my ribs, the bells began to toll through the Grimswire courtyard.

That’s when I knew, I hadn’t sipped wine. I’d swallowed poison.No. It wasn’t poison. It was marrying Damien Lynch which felt more like a curse.

I stayed. I didn’t wander to unknown lands and risk my life. I stayed because a battle with choked breath seemed less terrifying than starting over in a foreign world. A broken heart, mended and swollen, grasped at the pieces thrust and pierced. And I held it, like silken chains that bound my bones with the first strum of the violin.

The roses were the same shade as heartbreak, thorns unclipped as they lined the walkway. Red was the color of blood and death.

To deathdo us part.

I was marrying Damien Lynch, son of the sixth Summer Serpent, brother to the dark, fallen prince of the Night realm. As my thrashed, heat-burnt lungs craved the nocturnal, I stared at the sun and allowed the poison to soak through my veins and coat my flesh with fury.

“All rise,” the king announced.

A hush fell over the bridge as a dozen civilians leaned forward to watch from above the canal. The view was striking, but beauty meant nothing to me now.

My father stood beside me; his hands were coated in frost. I hadn’t seen him since the Serpent Estate, and I’d braced for tension, but not like this.

I hadn’t expected the sorrow in his voice. “You were the impossible bargain, Severyn,” my father whispered.

A bargain. That’s all I was. A trade. A piece of sun exchanged for the promise of prosperity.

“You told me my life was mine,” I said, the words slicing through the stillness. “But you lied.”

“Sev,” he murmured, a tear slipping down his flushed cheek. Still, his grip on mine didn’t falter. “We found roots this morning.”

The sun streaked my vision, but I didn’t look down. “I’m glad.”

“I’m proud of you, Severyn. I always have been.” He gave a soft smile. “Sivil planted hellebores. They bloomed last week. The whole land feels like Autumn now.” His fingers brushed the violet-tipped flower pinned to his chest. “I made sure he’d be here today. For you.”

It was hellebore. He didn’t know what it meant. But I did. I kept my expression still. My forgiveness had long dried up.

The song of matrimony began, echoing through the courtyard, and Father led me down the cobblestone path. “I wonder where he would be,” I muttered.

“Nowhere good,” he said. “But I miss that boy.”

I turned slightly toward him. “Do you know what Charles did?”

He drew out a long breath. “Yes.”

Damien stood beside his father, the picture of composure. Part of me longed for it—the simplicity of surrender. It would’ve been easy to give in. Easier than this. I wondered if rage was all that would ever remain between us.

Father’s hand slipped from mine, the cold of it already fading. “You will always be my warmth, Severyn,” he whispered. “And I give you now to the Summer heir.”

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