Page 24 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

She’d wield it. Rocarri’s oversight would become her greatest weapon.

Turning away from the sun-streaked Valyn, Emmeline smiled softly at the Chancellor. “I suppose I don’t have a choice. With my magic revealed, this is best.”

His lips curled at the mention of her magic. “I’m happy we’re aligned.”

There was a threat on the tip of that smile, but Emmeline couldn’t figure out what it was. She would, though. Emmeline would uncover all Balmour Rocarri’s secrets.

“So, the winner will be my…partner.”

Rocarri nodded, mischief dancing across his expression. “You two will be bonded in an official ceremony at the conclusion of the tournament.”

The thought choked her.

Ordinary Starsearcher bonding ceremonies were simple. There were two sets of vows. The first, the Warrior’s Words, was written into every clan’s respective custom.

The second set was personal. It was whatever oaths you wanted to make to the person you loved, overseen by a priestess and the Fates themselves. Then, the two searchers conducted a joint reading, meant to show glimpses of their future together.

No approval of the Fates was necessary for an ordinary bond. No granting of divine intervention.

But for others—for a Fatesworn bond...

Well, those were extremely rare. When two fates were broken from the same star thousands of years ago, spirits filling bodies as they found one another again and again…two souls destined across any realm.

Those, the Fates had to deem true.

Emmeline bit her lip, a voice screaming through her memory, her heart shredding in her chest, bleeding so violently she didn’t know how it still beat.

Shifting away from the Chancellor, she squeezed her eyes tight. Willed the pain to dull enough that she could pretend she was okay with this. For now. To find her sister.

She spun her ring around her finger, cool wind biting at her cheeks and drying the tears that fought from her eyes. “The Fates do not always take kindly to forced bondings.”

“But the Fates do take kindly to you,” Rocarri clarified.

Did they, though? Emmeline was powerful, but she’d suffered so much in her thirty short years to conceal the strength of that magic. Was it truly a blessing? And gift or not, how would it react to being forcibly bonded to another?

Throughout history, there were accounts of bonding ceremonies that ended in unsavory ways when arranged for political, financial, or militaristic advantage. The majority went smoothly, and while perhaps the warriors involved didn’t love each other, they lived long, content lives together, engaging in whatever private affairs they wanted.

But sometimes, the unions were cursed with misfortune. Sometimes, the Starsearchers lost access to their power altogether.

Not being tied to eleven Fates may not be the worst thing, though. It would be the irony Rocarri deserved, offering her up only for her to become less precious.

A smile bit into her cheeks at the thought, and Rocarri clearly took it for agreement. “I have a feeling the Fates will bless whatever bonded partner is selected for you. And look at it this way, dear, there will be many competitors entering this tournament for a chance to win your hand. Only the one the Fates deem appropriate will be able to conquer them all.”

“I still don’t understand why they would volunteer for this. The tournament is said to be dangerous, and based on their attire and presentation today, many of the men already have wealth and status. Why suffer?”

“You still don’t see it, Emmeline.” Rocarri braced his elbows on the stone wall, a dubious smile lifting his lips as he looked over his city.

Emmeline’s throat dried at the sight. “See what?” she asked hoarsely.

“How valuable you truly are.”

Valuable.

Not loved, not wanted.

Valuable.

For her magic, for the status and fortune it offered.