Page 3 of Unveil
Up in box five, our dad hums thoughtfully. “Don’t you have your own secret club to back you up?”
Mr. Fury huffs. “The fact you know about it is why I didn’t go to them.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Fury,” Uncle Kian says smugly. “We make it our business to know other peoples’ business.”
“And that’smy point. All of us have our own territories. Bordeauxs have the Deep South. McKennons hold the West, Lucianos, the Northeast. The Furys and Wildes control Appalachia and the Southeastern Coast, with the Furys barely hanging on.For now. We’re being chopped down branch by branch, and the Wildes keep coming. Everyone wants the throne, and I won’t be the one to bend the knee. They’re already pushing into Mississippi and Pennsylvania, Bordeaux and Luciano territory. You don’t want that. Trust me.”
“My cousin controls the Northeast,” Uncle Sev corrects. “I’m no longer a player on the board.”
“What the fuck, Severino?” Uncle Kian growls.
“Look, I’m on your side up until the point my Brylie has to marry a monster.”
“A monster?” Mr. Fury snarls.
“He has a point,” Uncle Kian agrees. “You can’t tell me the one with those crazy eyes is entirely sane. No way I’m letting him marry my girl.”
“They’re not monsters.” Queenie’s soft voice is harder now. “Orion, Dashiel, Hatton… they’reboys.”
King’s tone roughens too. “And each of them have been through more in their lives individually than your pampered princesses have combined. You can’t imagine what we’ve lost to this feud. My own sister—” he chokes.
The sketchpad boy scowls up at the box. The tablet held by the boy beside him goes dark. The one who hasn’t stopped looking at me flicks the knife open one last time, then crosses his arms, breaking eye contact as he leans back.
His gaze moves to the doors like he’s waiting for an intruder to burst through. Which is kinda funny since Bordeaux Conservatory is neutral ground. Everybody respects that rule. It’s the safest place in the world.
I drag my eyes back to box five.
Queenie murmurs words I can’t catch, then speaks louder, gentle but firm.
“King lost his sister recently in a Wilde retaliation against another Fury branch. That’s why we’re here. This feud won’t just defeat the King branch. Our enemies want to wipe us off the map. Everyone knows our ambitions up there. They know we intend to make our blue mountains safer. Still lawless, in our Fury way, but built on family, community, and land. Not shaped by greed or bought by power-hungry men clawing for control. We need your help.”
There’s a moment of silence that reminds me of a funeral.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” my dad finally replies before his voice turns shockingly cold. “But we’re not handing over our daughters as sacrifices to keep your feud in check. You losing a family member, no matter how tragic, is only more reason to protect ours.”
“He’s right,” Uncle Kian adds. “My wife and I abolished arranged marriage in our own society over a decade ago, before we formed the Troisgarde. We won’t start them again. We won’t take away our daughter’s say in her own life.”
Lucy finds my hand and I squeeze. I grab Brylie’s too. Even though she hates this kind of thing, I’m not surprised when she grips mine fiercely. She’s soft sometimes. Especially when she’s scared.
Benoit’s right. All of this sounds like the ballets we dance in. But in real life, there’s no way our parents will make us marry someone we don’t like. Right?
“You will honor the Troisgarde-Fury pact,” King insists, each word heavier than the last. “Or are you not men of your word?”
“Of course we are,” Kian says. “But a drunken bet is a different animal. Hell, we’d give you anything else you fecking well please?—”
“It’ll be my boys or no one!” The shout ricochets from box five. “Marriage is the only power in our world that means something anymore. The legacies made from them are sacred. The Troisgarde-Fury Pact means survival for us all. We won’t just protect the bride. We’ll inherit the right and privilege to defend her family, and they’ll protect ours in turn. I won’t risk you forming that kind of loyalty with men who intend to hurt me and mine.”
Lucy’s hand tightens, and she huddles against me. Even Brylie moves closer. Sweet Benoit and Nox stand as tall as they can, like they’re ready to fight.
The staring boy’s eyes are back on me.
“You’re treating them like pawns,” Aunt Lacey argues.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mrs. McKennon. They’ll rule the Fury kingdom. The King kin will make them queens in their own right.” His voice softens. “Like I did when I claimed Ruth. My Queenie.”
“Don’t worry,cher,” Benoit murmurs, squeezing my shoulder, making me realize I’d been fidgeting. “Nox and I will protect you with our lives, I promise.”
I nearly snort. “Don’t be sodramatic, Benny.”
