Page 136 of A Storm in Every Heart
“I’ve read accounts from men who believed that with enough selective breeding and training from an early age, a siren could be taught to influence women as well as men.”
“You’re talking about us like prized racehorses bred for speed.”
“That’s not an unreasonable comparison,” he says thoughtfully.
I shake my head.No. No, this cannot be happening.
“I’ll never do it. I won’t marry you, and I won’t influence anyone on your behalf. I’d rather die.”
“You’re not going to die,” he says dismissively. “But Kastian will if you don’t come around.”
A lead ball drops into my stomach—cold, dense, final. Magnus is right: I would do almost anything to keep him from hurting Kastian. Except, will what I do even matter?
Magnus had planned to kill Kastian as early as a hundred years ago. He killed his family. Clearly, no matter what I do, he’s not going to let Kastian walk free.
Daemon is coming, I remind myself.
If they don’t hear from me, then Daemon and Alix will know something is wrong. They’ll come to rescue us. I just need to make sure Magnus doesn’t kill Kastian before then.
“If I marry you, will you let him go?” I ask, hating how my voice shakes but unable to stop it.
Magnus doesn’t answer right away. He just stares at me, eyes cold and flat.
I grit my teeth behind my closed lips, trying not to betray my anxiety. I don’t even need him to agree to let Kastian go—he’d belying anyway—I just want him to have a reason to keep him alive until Daemon gets here.
“Yes,” he says finally, lip curling. “After the wedding, and after you’ve written to your family in Vernallis to tell them it was your idea, I’ll let Kastian go. I expect you to make your loyalty obvious. If you don’t, you can watch him die through the windows of your new palace.”
I let out a long breath. I know that’s what I wanted to hear, but it didn’t do much to alleviate my anxiety. I also know that I’ll never actually marry Magnus. I would walk straight into the sea before I’d ever let him touch me. Still, agreeing out loud feels like a defeat.
“Fine,” I say. The word comes out raw, gutted.
“Good girl.” He flashes me a genuine smile and reaches out and pats my cheek. “Don’t look so sad. You’re going to make such a beautiful queen.”
KASTIAN, AGE 18
Hundreds of masked nobles crowd around me, and though I don’t know who anyone is, I despise them all.
I loathe their happy chattering voices and their pointless conversations. I hate them for forcing me to socialize when I would rather lock myself in my room and rot.
I hate them because I can’t hate the person I’m really mad at.
I’m standing near the bow of my ship, leaning against the railing, and watching the last straggling groups of courtiers walking up the ramp to the deck. We’re still docked in the harbor, but not for much longer. As soon as the last of the courtiers make their way down from the castle, we’ll be setting sail.
It was my mother’s brilliant plan to have this ball on the deck of a ship sailing around the harbor rather than in our standard ballroom. Admittedly, it wasn’t a bad idea. The ship looks nice covered in decorations and lights, and the excitedcrowd is enchanted by doing something slightly unusual. They’ll be talking about this party for years.
And they’ll have a hell of a lot more to talk about if I fling myself over the side of the boat.
Not that I really would, but the idea has crossed my mind.
Just this morning, I’d been looking forward to this evening. I envisioned introducing Odessa to my parents, but now I’m torn between a desperation to see her and silent prayers that she doesn’t show up.
Odessa isn’t here yet—I’d know, as I’ve been obsessively watching the ramp up to the ship for the last half an hour, searching the eyes behind every mask for a hint of violet. I assume she wouldn’t want to come, not after the scene in the garden this morning—not after she told me so clearly that she never wants to speak to me again—but I’m not sure. I haven’t seen Daemon either, so maybe their whole family is just running late.
Waiting is torture.
“Ugh, I’m already ready to go home!” a frustrated voice says behind me.
I turn around and come face to face with my sister, Serena. Or, almost face to face, considering she’s over a foot shorter than me even in her tall heels. She’s wearing an emerald green ballgown and matching mask, and has a white flower in her dark hair, clearly reminiscent of the colors of the Hydrattan flag.
