Though this is merely the engagement, proof to God and everyone that we intend to marry, it’s taken quite seriously. A robed friar awaits me at the altar. He’s to bless us, confirm our intentions to marry, and cry the banns, asking if anyone knows a reason for us not to be united.
I imagine Hadley springing from her pew and denouncing the betrothal, but that’s a ridiculous thought. Even if she wished to do so for my sake, she can’t, not without putting herself in danger. I harbor no false hope of anyone speaking out against this union.
My head swims as Madity gives my dress one last fluff, then turns toward the little boy holding my commitment gift to Sebastian. A round, silver locket that he’ll clip to his vest. And inside it, a lock of my hair.
“Remember to stay to the right,” she tells the boy. “Just behind Princess Zara.”
He nods while yanking on the collar of his blue vest, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.
Madity disappears down the corridor, and in a few moments, returns with a thin, silver band. A crown. From here on out, I’ll be expected to wear it. I bow my head for her as she gently places it over my braid. One small blue jewel drips from its center, resting against my brow.
“You’re breathtaking, Zara,” she says. “I mean, Princess Zara.” She bows once, then turns and joins the other help standing along the back wall of the hall.
I self-consciously rub my leg, wanting to feel my dagger, but the itchy material of my garter chafes me instead. I hid the dagger in my chamber. I’d not bring my father’s weapon into a room full of the Force. I consider myself brave, most days, not stupid, but I need the feel of the dagger pressed against my skin, its comfort. Though it hasn’t been in my possession long, I feel strangely like a piece of me is missing.
Taking a deep breath, I face the blue velvet curtain as it begins to part. An orchestra of mandolins, flutes, and drums fills my ears—it’s my cue. I take a shaky step forward, my legs numb.
Row upon row of commoners and nobles are seated in the pews. Their dress is all in shades of blue and gray, complementing the blue and silver tapestries draping the white stone walls. Tall candelabras line the walls and either side of the altar, and the glow of their small flames creates an illusion of warmth despite the cool air of the large hall.
As I walk past the citizens of Karm, I feel their eyes on me. I ball my hands into fists as the girls I grew up with snicker. Their envious glares disarm me, but when I spot Hadley—the worry in her dark eyes, the frown marring her always smiling lips—I’m nearly undone. She mouths the words, “Are you all right?”
All I can manage is a quick nod. Her lips lift into a small, heartened smile, and I’m two seconds from running straight to her when I catch Sebastian’s gaze. His eyes find and hold mine, then his lips spread into a beautiful smile and his face lights up, the soft glow from the candles adding to the effect.
I must get through this. Then I can find my best friend again.
His dark blue vest is embroidered with silver. A fitted gray tunic beneath displays his well-defined arms as he stands tall, his shoulders back. The blue-jeweled hilt of his sword stands out against his silver belt. Blue is the color of purity. I inwardly cringe. He should be wearing any color other than blue. Pure is not how I’d describe the haughty prince who oversees horrific punishments. However, he could be wearing it for another meaning…
The thought makes me stumble, but I quickly catch and right myself. I’ve always assumed, with the maidens pining after him, that he must be experienced. Surely he is. However, at least I don’t have to worry about the wedding night at this time.
What does upset me is I’m about to have my first kiss. With Sebastian. It won’t be like I’ve always imagined: with someone I care for. It will be shared with the man who’s trapped me here, who tore me away from my father and my home.
For a moment, my eyes drift toward Sebastian’s first knight, at his left. Devlan’s pale blue gaze meets mine, and my stomach plummets to my feet. His eyes glisten with intensity, as if he’s urging me forward with his stare alone. His features harden suddenly. I’ve yet to read him well, but it’s as if he’s battling some internal conflict. More likely, he’s reminding me that I’m his charge—that I better not mess up, for his sake.
When I reach Sebastian, he extends his hand to me. I stare at it, transfixed, remembering the feel of his hands as they crushed my arms. I force myself to take it. It’s warm and uncallused. He guides me to kneel with him before the altar.
His eyes sweep over me. “Beautiful, Zara,” he whispers. “You’re my vision.”
My molars bite down, and my jaw aches as I refrain from shouting that I’m not his. He can’t possess me like a horse or property.
Before my anger can root any deeper, the gray-haired friar steps to the side of the long altar, and my real fear begins. This will be the first time I lay eyes on King Hart.
Before most of Karm was constructed, King Hart built a secret chamber, a place where he’s rumored to stay hidden away from the Virus. Although we all know the Virus lurks in our veins and is not airborne, still, he’s somehow survived all these years. My father told me that his own father was one of the first to be brought into Karm. King Hart was ancient then, he said. He’s the oldest citizen of Karm, but no one knows his actual age.
My father had his own theories as to why King Hart stays hidden—why he never leaves his secret fortress. He believed Hart had discovered a way to extend his lifespan, maybe even to defy death, yet in doing so, he bound himself to some nefarious contraption that keeps him from ever leaving his chamber’s confines.
I don’t know the truth. I don’t know whether he’s survived all these years because he’s somehow escaped the fate awaiting the rest of us and now lives in fear of contamination, or whether he’s hooked up to some apparatus—
Static echoes through the ceremonial hall.
My palms slick with sweat.
All I know for sure is he’s about to appear on the giant wall monitor before me, and my heart is about to pound right through my chest.
“Citizens of Karm.” King Hart’s gravelly voice echoes through the hall. “I am honored to be here on this joyous day.”
Waves of static wash over his pale face. The monitor’s blue-gray hue doesn’t disguise his pallid color, but rather emphasizes it. His skin is unnaturally smooth, with what looks like strategically-placed wrinkles around his mouth, eyes, and forehead. It shines as if it’s stretched too tight, made of something other than flesh. But it’s his unearthly gray eyes—as if illuminated from within—that unnerve me.
I force my eyes away from the screen and look to Sebastian as a shiver crawls up my spine. He’s watching his father with a look of awe on his face, and I wonder how King Hart appears to him.
My gaze finds Devlan, the only one in the hall besides me not watching the flickering monitor. His eyes are on me. They seem to zero in on my fear, making me feel exposed. He holds my stare a moment longer before angling his face toward the screen.
“Today is a momentous occasion,” King Hart continues, and I look up at him. “Today my son, Prince Sebastian Hart, becomes betrothed.” His eyes seem to peer down at me. A sharp spasm of fear stabs my chest. “Zara Dane. Now Princess Zara to all of Karm, and Prince Sebastian, confirm their engagement and intention to wed.” His eyes scan the crowd. “And in taking a wife, the prince begins his ascent toward becoming King. Our hope for the prosperity of our future.”
There’s a hesitant pause, then the hall erupts into cheers and applause. Sebastian’s hands squeeze mine, and I look at him. Pride wells in his eyes. Not the arrogance or vanity that he first showed when I met him, but a dignified pride. A twinge of regard for his station and duties rises within me, despite my reluctance to marry him.