Page 7 of Married By Scandal

But I didn’t earn that fame on my own. Evie’s notoriety is what gained me any kind of renown with the fae. I’m a bit irked that this new plan is all thanks to her too, not to mention how it hinges upon me having a royal husband.

My fashions, though, are all mine. Wearing them amongst high society, showing the humans that my artistry deserves a place in their closets…that will beme. Surely I can sign my name next to a prince’s and tolerate his company in public. Right?

I release a slow exhale. “All right,” I say before I can change my mind. “I’ll do it.”

“Goody!” Breeda says, clapping her hands. “I hope he’s handsome.”

Oh, for the love of the All of All, I’ve hardly given thought to the man himself. I haven’t even seen the prince’s portrait. When the Brettonish royals show up in Faerwyvae’s scandal sheets, it’s always through secondhand accounts. Roughly sketched reenactments. From what I’ve heard about Prince Albert, he’s tall, handsome, and has golden hair. That, and he’s a total drunkard.

I rub my brow. What am I getting myself into?

“Are you sure about this?” Evie asks, reading the distress on my face. “I know what I’m asking of you. You’d be giving up your chance to marry someone you actually love.”

I bark a laugh. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

My sister searches my face. When she speaks, her voice comes out quiet. “You deserve love, Ami. You know that, right?”

“I don’t want love. Not everyone is as lucky as you and Aspen. Or Foxglove and Fehr. Or the dozens of other happy couples that seem to pop up all around me.” I play it off with a chuckle, despite how my chest tightens. Ever since my grand disillusionment with romance, I’ve wondered if there is such a thing as real and healthy love. Could it really be as perfect as it looks on the outside? Are all these smitten couples hiding secrets, their relationships fraying at the seams like the Vances? Do their lovers coerce and control them? Hurt them over and over again? Because that’s what love has looked like for me. As many times as Evie has tried to tell me that what I had with Cobalt wasn’t love, it doesn’t change thathethought it was. Even as Cobalt died in my arms, he professed to love me. After everything he did to me, after the abuse and lies, he somehow believed what he felt for me was love.

It’s why I despise that word so greatly.

“If you’re sure…” Evie says.

“I am,” I say, tone resolute.

My sister looks almost sad, as if part of her hoped I’d fight her. That I’d insist on saving myself for a love match, not the cold façade this political union will be.

“Very well,” she says. “I’ll send word about our change of bride today. I can include the proposed tour in our agreement terms too. Or, if you would like to arrange it yourself, you can.”

I ponder that for a moment. As much as I’d prefer to have no contact with my betrothed until necessary, if this involves my career, I want to take charge. “I’ll do it. I’ll write to him and request that he meets me for an engagement tour.”

Breeda floats into the air with an elegant spin. “This is all so dreamy!”

“That’s not what I’d call it,” I mutter, but the sound is drowned out by a knock at the door. A second later, it opens to reveal a tall fae male with blue-black hair and a pair of antlers sprouting from his head.

King Aspen’s eyes land on my sister. “Ah, there you are. A…um…a new table arrived.” His lips curl into a crooked grin as he says the last part.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my laugh. I know whata new tablemeans. It’s Evie and Aspen’s secret code to proposition each other for romantic relations. Which happens…a lot around here. I don’t think either of them know I’ve caught on by now, but I’ve certainly learned to make myself scarce when the wordtableis uttered.

“A new table,” Evie says as she rises from the couch and meets her husband in the doorway. “We should go inspect it.” Wrapping her arms around Aspen’s neck, she stands on her tiptoes and greets him with a lingering kiss. Breeda flutters about them, staring at their locked lips with blatant fascination. I, on the other hand, avert my gaze, ignoring how my lungs feel suddenly too small. I’m not sure why my chest squeezes like this when I see couples together. It’s not like I want what they have.

“You two should go inspect that table,” I say as I rise to my feet. “Meanwhile, I’ll write the letter to my betrothed.”

Aspen’s voice reaches my ears. “You agreed to the marriage?”

Now that they’re no longer kissing, I can bear to look at them. I give him a pleasant smile. “Don’t look so surprised. I am the agreeable sister, after all.”

“That’s for certain. This one, on the other hand…” He turns his gaze back to Evie, and his expression melts into something hopelessly sappy. Very few get to witness this side of the Stag King. To most, he’s distant and stoic. But with my sister…

All right, I admit. Their dynamic is quite adorable.

“Is there a pen and paper in here?” I ask before their cuteness has a chance to turn smothering again.

Evie tilts her chin toward a cluttered corner. “There’s a bureau over there. Are you sure you’re all right with this whole…marriage thing?”

I give her a wry look and point out the door. “Go. Inspect. The table.”

That’s all the permission they need. As they close the door behind them, I march toward the corner Evie indicated, bypassing a small rocking chair filled to the brim with porcelain dolls, an ironing board displaying pocket watches, and a broken grandfather clock. Once I reach the bureau, I take a seat at the piano bench that stands before it and gather up a pen and sheet of paper. As I settle in to write, the paper takes on a red glow. Glancing up, I find Breeda is still here.

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