Page 160 of Crown of the Courtesan

The shadows disappear, and a familiar creamy liquid surges into my mouth and down my throat.

* * *

I open my eyes, and I’m standing in the throne room of Alexandria Castle. A heavy tiara rests on my head as an out-of-control fire consumes the throne room.

The sounds of clashing swords and shields bounce off the stone walls, and the screams of the dying fill my ears as a great battle ensues. Bodies crumple around me as they disintegrate from the flames.

Somebody in black armor is shaking my shoulders. My neck tilts, and I see the emerald Achlys Dagger clutched in his grasp.

There’s no time to speak.

Ashland’s eyes harden as he drives the blade into my chest. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. The sharp edge impales my heart, searing and ripping me open. Bubbling crimson flows down my bodice, covering my trembling hands in dripping blood.

* * *

Screaming and gasping, I grab at my chest, trying to find the wound, searching for the blood.

But there’s nothing.

Instead, Ashland’s terrified eyes are the first thing I see. White flecks slice into his silver irises ever so slightly. It’s something I’ve never noticed before.

My breathing is disjointed as he moves closer. His dark hair falls forward as he leans over my bed in the healer’s cottage, the muscle in his jaw clenched. “You’re glowing.” He palms my face. “Tabitha, why are you glowing?”

I lift my hands to where I can see them. Flexing my fingers, I watch as the glow from the Rite of Allurement shines through my skin. I rasp, “I don’t know. This has never happened before. I don’t—I don’t understand.”

Then I remember the surge of liquid that went into my mouth after speaking with the Oracle. I’m more than disoriented and deep into confused panic, but somehow I know to keep my visions to myself. To not reveal what I saw.

To protect myself.

On the other side of the room, Valora studies me from afar and lets out a long sigh. Lir waits at the doorway, listening with his arms braced on the threshold. His face is lined with worry.

“You collapsed during the ceremony.” Ashland assists me into a sitting position, the white fur cloak from our wedding falling away to the floor. He’s not wearing his armored gloves as his noticeably bare hands support my back and shoulder. The support is comforting—and wrong as my glow thrums with his touch.

My heart begins to race when I see how drained and white his face is—too white—deathly white.

What shame I once felt is gone, but it doesn’t stop me from trying to touch and feel my lips—but I stop myself.

I’m no fool. We both knew it would always come down to this. My eyes sting, but I hide the buried emotion trying to claw its way out.

I’m a jewel. Made of stone. No feelings.

I push him away.

He’s too close.

Smells too familiar.

Ashland abruptly lets go. “Leave us. I need to speak to Tabitha alone,” he says, his voice tight.

There’s a tense silence as Lir stomps out of the cottage, and the door slams. Snow crunches beneath his retreating footsteps as he disappears into the night. A draft of cold air swirls around my body.

Valora fastens her cloak as she glances between Ashland and me. “Tell her what the elder said after she collapsed. It cannot wait.”

Ashland’s gaze snaps to Valora’s, alarm passing between them.

“What now?” I slowly rise to my feet, wobbling and holding onto the mattress.

Valora cinches her belt over her cloak. Her voice is blunt as she looks me up and down, clearly still analyzing my strange glow. “You may feel relief right now, but the Bonded Matrimony won’t fully cure you⁠—”