“I’m—! I barely—!” She dug her nails into her palms. “You want me as much as I want you. I see it in your eyes every time you touch me.”
He laughed, a cruel sound, so different from the warm, kind laughter she remembered. Gesturing at her face, he yelled, “You’re wearing my wife’s face! She was gone for two weeks and I was miserable and then she was back and I … but she’s not back. It’s you. It’s just you, and you don’t think that’s manipulative?”
Shoving the blankets aside, Levana scrambled into the robe left on her vanity chair. “It’s my face now. This is who I am, and you can’t tell me that what happened last night was a mistake. That you didn’t want it.”
“I never wanted this.” He massaged his brow. “The court is talking, and the other guards. The rumors about us—”
“What does that matter?” She choked down a calming breath. “I love you, Evret.”
“You don’t even know what that word means. I wish I could make you understand that.” He gestured to the empty space between them. “Whatever this fantasy is that you’ve built in your head. None of it is real. You are not my wife and I … I need to go be with my daughter. The only part of her I have left.”
Levana cinched the belt tight, then stood there, shaking with anger, as she watched him pull on his boots.
“You will marry me.”
He paused briefly, before snapping the last buckle at the top of his boots. “Princess. Please. Not again.”
“Tonight.”
He stared at the floor for a long time. A painfully long time.
She didn’t know what she expected to see when he finally lifted his head, but the nothingness surprised her.
They stared at each other for a painful, hollow moment, until it occurred to Levana that he had not said no.
She gulped, pressing forward. “I will find an officiant and we will meet in the sun chapel at nightfall.”
His gaze again fell to the floor.
“Bring your daughter if you’d like. She should be there, I think. And the nanny to watch her.” She pulled her hair over one shoulder, feeling better about their argument already. How many of his annoying points this would solve.
She would be his wife—he could no longer say that she wasn’t.
She would be the mother to his child.
And the rumors would stop, for no one would dare speak ill of the princess’s husband, the queen’s brother-in-law.
“Well?” she said, daring him to say no. Already she was feeling for the energy that surrounded him, ready to bend him to her will if he denied her. This was for his own good. This was the only way to solidify their family. Their happiness.
Releasing the top of his boot, Evret slowly stood. His absent expression had turned sad.
Sad?
No, sympathetic. He felt sorry for her.
She frowned, casting a wall around her heart.
“You have a chance to find love, Princess. Real love. Don’t throw that away on me. I beg you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have already found love. I have shared my bed with him, and tonight, he will be my husband.” She attempted a smile, but her confidence was waning. He had bruised it so many times, and she didn’t want to face rejection now. She didn’t want to force him into this.
But even as she thought it, she knew that she would, if that was the only way.
Evret pulled his weapon holster over his head, his knife hanging on one hip, his gun on the other. A guard. Her guard.
“Well?” Levana demanded.
“Do I have a choice?”
She sneered. “Of course you have a choice. It is yes or no.” Levana ignored the twist in her stomach that told her she was lying. He would not say no, and it wouldn’t matter.
But still, she was surprised at how vulnerable she felt as the seconds ticked past. He wouldn’t say no. Would he? She held her breath and sent—just a subtle tenderness into his thoughts. Just a warm reminder that they were meant to be together, forever.
He shuddered, and she wondered if he knew she was doing it. She stopped, and watched his shoulders relax.
“Evret?” She hated the whine in her voice. “Marry me, Evret.”
He did not meet her eyes again as he crossed to her bedroom door. “As it pleases you, Your Highness.”
*
The officiant wrapped the gold ribbon around Levana’s wrist, explaining the significance of their union, the magnitude of the occasion as he tied a knot. He then moved to Evret, taking a second ribbon from the dish on the altar and knotting it around Evret’s wrist. Levana watched closely as the shimmering ribbon settled against his dark skin. His arm was so much broader than hers, making her bones seem bird-like in comparison.
“Knotting the two ribbons together,” said the officiant, taking them into his fingers and tying them once, then twice, “symbolizes the unity of bride and groom into one being and one soul, on this, the twenty-seventh day of April in the 109th year of the third era.”
Releasing the ribbons, he let the knot dangle between their arms.