Faith narrowed her eyes on her father. “We wouldn’t want that,” she hissed, tearing her arms from Silas. “But I won’t stand here and watch my son defile Mom’s memory by tying himself to this harlot.” She flicked her chin to me.
I jerked back. Harlot? I’d never even dated a boy, much less slept with one.
Iba shoved in front of Nima and got in Faith’s face. “How dare you disrespect my daughter! She’s never done anything to you.”
Silas’s nostrils flared as though he were about to shift back into his dragon form. “Faith, please apologize.”
His wife’s mouth remained cemented shut.
“Mother, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my future bride that way.” Remo’s voice rang over the wild thunderstorm and wilder heartbeats pounding in the pavilion.
I glanced over my shoulder at my intended, who hadn’t left the Cauldron’s side. I didn’t delude myself into thinking he was defending me because he cared. All the overgrown firefly cared about was his status, which would automatically improve once we got engaged.
“How could you want this, sweetheart?” Faith whined.
“It’s a great honor that’s been bestowed upon our family, Mother.”
Faith’s brow pinched. “Marriage shouldn’t be a badge to add to your uniform, Remo.” And with those words, she broke free of her husband, strode out to the soaked deck, and soared into the wet night.
5
The Royal Dinner
Even though I wished I could’ve left at the same time as Faith, I played dutiful daughter and stayed.
“Prinsisa Amara?” Gregor tilted his head toward the Cauldron.
Sighing, I returned toward the big black vessel, Nima and Iba close behind me. Gregor raised his fist in the air and stretched out two fingers. A low chant vibrated out of his men’s chests, matching the cadence and volume of the raindrops splattering against the window before overtaking both as it grew and resonated against the glass.
If it had been any other event I would’ve associated the goose bumps popping over my bare collarbone with awe, but there was nothing awe-inspiring about tonight. Regret prickled my breastbone as I stared into the Cauldron’s foaming belly. I’d dreamed of this moment for years. Of how it would feel to don purple and link myself to a person I loved. To a person with whom I’d want to share my heart, my body, and my kingdom. Remo was not that person.
As the chant slowed and quieted, I noticed the rain had abated too. I glanced over my shoulder at Iba and Nima, who stood hand-in-hand, regal and calm. Iba’s lips flexed in apology—or was it encouragement? Perhaps both. Nima’s mouth was immobile, but her expression encompassed as much worry as the sky encompassed clouds.
I squared my shoulders and steeled my spine, swearing to myself that the day I’d wear red, I’d wear it for a man I loved, and nothing about the ceremony would be fake.
Gregor nodded to the Cauldron. “Please place your hands inside, children.”
Heat snaked behind my lids. I blinked furiously to prevent any tears from falling. I wouldn’t show weakness tonight. I’d be an example of stoicism. I’d make my father proud.
For you, Iba, I thought as I dipped my hand inside.
I’d asked Nima to tell me the story of her wedding so many times that I knew what to expect: the Cauldron would lock my hand in place until the rite was complete.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Remo bury his hand beside my own. When his fingers closed over mine, I murmured, “Don’t.”
He jerked, but the Cauldron had snared his hand.
Our hands needn’t have touched for the Cauldron to link us, but apparently the mechanics hadn’t been explained to the lucionaga. So now, until the Cauldron released us, his hand was in contact with mine.
Ugh.
Scintillating strands of magic rose from the dark depths and scampered into both our arms, irrigating our veins with its otherworldly light. The chanting grew anew, a more sonorous and lively tune that seemed to egg the magic on, make it flow faster, fill us harder. My heartbeat quickened, thumping in time with the song that palpitated into every corner of my being.
Remo’s fingers twitched against mine, his pulse nipping my knuckles. At least it wasn’t only my heart which was about to rocket out of my chest. For some reason, knowing that Remo was also disquieted made me feel better. I didn’t want him to delight in this moment, not even nefariously. I wanted it to be as uncomfortable and alarming for him as it was for