Page 117 of Divine Oaths

“People have always thought that,” she said. “When Kasem and I were younger, when we were in the same private school before he transferred and skipped grades to start university early, he made me a ring of daisies and I made him one in return. I told him that even if he couldn’t inherit Westfield because of his brother, that I’d marry him so he could be part of the board of trustees like my parents.” She laughed. “Not like that’s actually how those things worked. But we promised to take care of each other, and be there for each other. Always.”

“Why are you telling me this? You’re with Alaster.”

“I know,” she said. She looked pained, like there was something weighing on her chest. “Mother always said to bet on the winning horse.”

And there it was. The answer.

Her parents, members of the Westfield Board of Trustees and its conservatorship, wanted their daughter with the person whom they believed would eventually inherit the Westfield estate. Not the cursed son of one of its original founders.

“We’re best friends,” Honey continued, the same way I used to talk about Jojo when anyone asked what we were. I knew what it was like being on the other side of an unrequited love that had bloomed from friendship. But it was different for me now.

In the distance, one of the staff announced that the vigil would be starting. Waiters carrying bottles of glittering white apple cider entered, standing in formation across every entrance to the greenhouse.

Honey waved for a waiter to bring her one of the ciders. When the man did, she slipped a small flask from her purse and poured its contents into her drink.

“You want some?” she asked.

When I shook my head, she took a swig and put it away before sipping on her spiked cider. The diamond ring on her finger flashed brilliantly.

“Do you know it’s an heirloom from Alaster’s side of the family,” Honey said, admiring the ring coolly. “Since my parents are supposed to be attending the vigil today, Alaster decided that we should surprise them with the good news and be public about us—I mean, more public than I was at Theta House.”

“It’ll be good publicity for Westfield too, I’m sure.” An engagement between its elite families on the heels of a heartbreaking vigil. What better way to get ahead of the negative public press than nuptials?

Honey smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her lips.

“Look at you, thinking like a Saint James already.”

She stood then, taking her flute of cider, and glanced at the piano.

“Have you gotten Jojo to agree to the binding ritual?”

“Not yet,” I said. “But I will.”

She seemed skeptical but didn’t comment on how time was running out. Instead, she nodded in Alaster’s direction, her gesture discreet.

“I’ll be staying close to him, in case he tries anything. This engagement, as orchestrated as it is by our families, has some benefits. That should give Angelica and Vivian time to do the binding ritual.”

It was really happening. Everything we’d been working toward would finally be put to the test.

“Be careful,” I said.

Honey gave me a rueful smile.

“You too. And good luck tonight. I’m sure it won’t be easy playing in front of an audience again.”

She didn’t mean it as a slight. Or maybe she had. I didn’t know. But when Provost Henning gave the last call and then the doors opened for the guests of the vigil, I stood, my heart beating in my chest, the sounds pounding against my ears, making me faint and nauseous. Inside the greenhouse, there was nowhere to go or hide.

The doors opened.

The vigil had begun.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

A madness most discreet

THE GREENHOUSE WAS SUFFOCATING. FROM the tangles of flowers and plants, every seat in the glass enclosure was filled to the brim. Westfield students donned black in mourning for the vigil, many wearing their Westfield blazers, while alumni and family members sat in their midst, their quiet sobs filling the silence before my performance. I’d barely played all semester, and now they were all watching me, waiting for me to strike the right key.

Provost Henning sat the president and members of the board of trustees at the front of the audience, in a separate section. Even the flutes they drank from were different from everyone else’s: silver and gold, a special selection from Theta and Sigma, the drinks inside red wine.