Page 112 of Of Masks and Fury

Oh how I wanted to pull a blade and wrench it across his throat.

Soon. I would end this soon.

“Walk,” he snarled. “Or I’ll have you dragged.”

For Trew, I walked.

He kept his hand on my arm as we left my chambers, his fingers digging in with every step. A promise of violence if I tried to flee.

Guards fell into step behind us. Ahead of us too.

Mae and the other ladies followed at a distance, their faces carefully blank.

The corridors passed in a blur. Servants lined the walls, watching with avid interest as the disgraced princess was marched to her forced wedding.

I caught sight of myself in a polished shield hanging on the wall. The stranger in the wedding dress looked small. Crushed. Good, my projection was working.

Inside, my rage burned.

I was walking to the altar, but I would not allow him to make me his sacrifice.

I would find a way out of this.

And if I couldn’t?

I’d kill Lord Alfred before the day was through.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ISI

The castle gardens had been transformed into something that most would consider lovely. My father had probably harangued the servants from the time he’d made his pronouncement until now.

Pink flowers lined the long aisle. Lavender ribbons fluttered from decorative posts that were also festooned with pink flowers. Musicians played a processional that sounded like a dirge in my ears.

Lords and ladies filled the seats on either side, dressed in their finest, their faces lit with curiosity and barely concealed disdain. My father must’ve commanded they be here to witness the disgraced princess marry the man who would supposedly tame her wildness.

Father’s grip on my arm felt like an iron shackle.

Each step along that aisle took effort, my body fighting while my mind raced for the best way out.

Three steps from the altar, I stopped walking entirely. The crowd’s murmur shifted to confused whispers. Father’s grip on my arm tightened to the point of real pain.

“Move,” he hissed by my ear, low enough that the guests couldn’t hear.

I stared at Lord Alfred’s smug face and felt something snap inside me.

“No.” The word carried across the suddenly silent garden. Guests leaned forward in their seats, sensing drama. “Fuck this,” I snarled. “I won’t do it.” I gathered power, though I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it yet. My training didn’t extend to ways to blast a way out of a forced wedding.

“Amarissa,” Father said, his voice a warning wrapped in silk for the benefit of our audience. “You’re overcome with emotion, which is understandable, given recent events.”

I looked out at the sea of faces, nobles who’d watched me grow up, courtiers who’d benefited from my family’s power, and people who would do nothing to help me even as they witnessed my destruction.

“I said no.”

“Did you forget the man locked in my dungeon? I’d hate to have something…horrible happen to Blain.”

Fury slammed through me, followed by the sting of tears in the backs of my eyes. My shoulders slumped, and my mind flashed through ways I could escape.