Bianca stared at her through the mirror. For a moment the room went silent. Then the older woman smiled faintly.
A dismissive smile. "Oh, sweetie." She placed the comb back on the table. "You do not have to make such a horrible statement up."
Sonia turned slightly in her chair. "I am not," she insisted.
Her eyes were wide now. "He is a monster." Bianca's expression hardened immediately. "Shut up."
The word cut sharply through the air. Sonia fell silent.
Bianca leaned down slightly, her hands gripping the back of the chair. "Whether you like it or not," she said slowly. "You are getting engaged today."
Her voice carried a firmness that left no room for argument. "Your father has sworn you over to him, and the Woodlands are no oath breakers."
She straightened again. Her gaze remained cold. "So nothing in this world will break that oath."
Sonia's eyes were immediately filled with tears. She tried to blink them away. But they came anyway.
Slowly they rolled down her cheeks. She did not speak again. The mirror reflected everything. The silk gown. The gold embroidery. The careful hair. And the quiet tears sliding down the face of a girl who felt completely trapped.
Inside the grand banquet hall of the Red Palace, the air vibrated with voices, silk, and steel.
The chamber stretched wide beneath a ceiling painted with scenes of ancient kings and battles long past. Tall pillars lined the sides of the hall, wrapped with banners from the Nine Kingdoms. Hundreds of candles burned from iron chandeliers, filling the room with warm golden light.
Rows of long tables had been arranged in a wide circle around the center floor.
Servants moved quickly between them, placing goblets, adjusting chairs, whispering instructions.
At the far end of the hall stood the raised royal platform. Upon it rested three high seats. The central throne of the king. Two lesser seats beside it for honored rulers.
The palace clerk stood near the entrance with a long scroll in his hand. A bell rang. The sound rolled across the hall.
The doors opened.
"Announcing the appearance of Lord Fabio Kenwool, of House Kenwool, ruler and Warden of Ashford."
A tall old man entered. His cloak was deep green trimmed with silver fur. The sigil of House Kenwool, a black hawk clutching a spear, shone upon his chest. Behind him walked his sons and sworn knights.
The hall erupted with a thunderous clap. Hands struck together. Goblets rattled on tables.
Lord Fabio gave a short bow toward the royal platform before walking toward the seats reserved for the southern lords.
He sat. The bell rang again. The doors opened once more.
"Announcing the arrival of Lord Stanley Clarkson, of House Clarkson, ruler and Warden of Dorne."
A ripple passed through the gathering. Stanley Clarkson walked in slowly, his dark cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. His sharp eyes swept across the hall before he inclined his head slightly.
Another roar of applause burst through the chamber. One by one the rulers of the Nine Kingdoms arrived.
Each name echoed from the clerk's voice. Each entrance drew fresh applause and whispers.
Nobles leaned toward one another, murmuring beneath the rising noise.
The hall filled steadily. Seats were taken. Goblets lifted. Servants poured wine. But the true moment had not yet arrived.
Then the bell rang again. This time louder, and clearer.
The clerk lifted his voice.
"Announcing the arrival of Prince Ryli Rendell, the engaging groom, Crown Prince and heir to the Golden Throne of Astarous."
The entire hall rose to its feet. Chairs scraped across stone. All eyes turned toward the doors.
They opened. Prince Ryli stepped into the hall. He wore black and gold armor polished to a mirror shine. A long crimson cloak hung from his shoulders. The symbol of House Rendell, the golden lion of Astarous, gleamed across his chest.
His dark hair fell neatly around his face. A confident smile rested on his lips. He walked forward slowly, acknowledging the lords around him with a graceful bow.
Applause thundered across the chamber. Some nobles shouted his name. Others raised their goblets.
Ryli continued walking until he reached the royal platform. He turned once more toward the hall and bowed.
Then he sat in the seat prepared for him. The applause faded gradually.
Another bell rang. "Announcing the arrival of Sonia Woodland, of House Woodland, the engaging bride."
The doors opened once again. A hush spread across the room. Sonia appeared in the doorway. Her white silk dress glowed beneath the candlelight. Gold embroidery ran along the sleeves and collar. Her hair had been arranged carefully, braided and pinned with small silver ornaments.
Behind her stood Lord Edmond Woodland. The Warden of the North held the handles of the wheeled chair gently as he rolled his daughter forward.
The clerk raised his voice again. "And with her, Lord Edmond Woodland, ruler of the Firstmen and of the Norsemen. Warden of the North."
The hall exploded with applause.
Northern lords struck their goblets loudly against the tables. Voices shouted greetings.
Edmond acknowledged them with a calm nod as he guided Sonia down the center of the hall.
But Sonia heard none of it. Her hands rested tightly in her lap. Her eyes remained fixed forward.
The hall felt enormous. The noise pressed against her ears.
She could feel hundreds of eyes watching her. Studying her. Judging her.
Edmond rolled her chair to the center of the hall. They stopped several steps from the royal platform.
For a brief moment quiet conversations resumed among the nobles. Then the great bell sounded.
Deep, and heavy.
The sound echoed like thunder through the hall. Everyone knew what it meant. Before the clerk even spoke, every person in the chamber stood.
Heads lowered.
The clerk's voice rose. "All stand for the arrival of His Grace, Robert Rendell of House Rendell, First of his name, King of the Seik and of the Norsemen, Lord of the Nine Kingdoms of Astarous and Protector of the Realm."
The doors opened wide. King Robert entered.
He walked slowly down the aisle, flanked by armored guards. His heavy crown rested upon his brow, and his dark cloak dragged across the stone floor behind him.
At his side walked Queen Freya. Her silver dress shimmered with every step. The hall remained silent except for the sound of their footsteps.
Robert climbed the platform. He turned. "Sit," he commanded.
The nobles lowered themselves back into their seats. Robert glanced toward the center of the hall.
"The engagement should begin."
Edmond moved forward again. He rolled Sonia closer to the center floor.
Ryli stood from his seat and stepped toward her. The distance between them closed. Sonia felt her muscles tighten. Her fingers curled against the fabric of her dress.
I wish I could strike him with a sword.
The thought burst through her mind. Ryli's shadow fell across her. His smile remained calm.
Someone save me please.
She whispered. Her breathing grew uneven.
I do not want to marry this psychopath.
But no one moved. No one spoke. The High Priestess stepped forward. Her long white robes flowed across the stone floor as she approached the couple.
A servant followed closely behind her. In his hands he carried a large silver basin.
The priestess stopped before them. She dipped her fingers into the basin and lifted them.
Clean water dripped slowly from her hand. She sprinkled the droplets over Sonia and Ryli.
Cold drops touched Sonia's face and hair.
"The blessings of Ago, God of the southerners," the priestess said calmly. Her voice carried across the silent hall. "And of Odin, God of the Norsemen are with you both."
She stretched out her hand.
From the servant she took a small bundle of dry wood. With her other hand she lifted a lamb soaked in oil.
She placed the wood upon a small bronze plate. A spark struck. Flames rose slowly. The fire crackled softly.
The priestess lifted the burning wood and began circling it around Sonia's head.
Once. Then twice.
The warmth brushed against Sonia's skin. Then the fire moved to Ryli.
"By fire," the priestess declared. Her voice rang through the hall. "Dennis Dragarian conquered the nine kingdoms and forged Astarous."
She returned the burning wood to the plate.
Next she picked up a small piece of shining gold. The metal glittered beneath the candlelight. She waved it around Sonia's head. Then around Ryli's.
"By gold," she continued, "every king has ruled."
The gold returned to the basin.
The priestess reached for another object. This time it was a sword. The blade glowed cold beneath the firelight.
She lifted it high.
"And by sword," she said, "the kingdom has been kept."
The sword was lowered.
Silence filled the hall again.
The priestess reached into the basin one last time. She pulled out a small knife. Its edge gleamed sharply. She turned toward Ryli.
"Do you," she asked, "Ryli Rendell of House Rendell, agree to bind yourself eternally to this woman, Sonia Woodland of House Woodland, for a vow to marry and to keep your body sealed so that she becomes yours?"
Ryli's answer came without hesitation. "Yes, I do."
The priestess took his hand. She turned his palm upward. The knife moved quickly.
A thin red line opened across his skin. Blood flowed immediately. A single drop fell onto the stone.
The priestess turned toward Sonia. Her eyes settled on the young woman's face. "Do you, Sonia Woodland of House Woodland," she asked slowly,
"swear yourself eternally to this man, Ryli Rendell of House Rendell, for a vow to marry and to keep your body sealed till he becomes yours?"
Sonia's heart thundered violently in her chest. The hall blurred slightly before her eyes. This was the moment.
If she spoke the oath now, the bond would be sealed. The vows would be written. The kingdoms would celebrate. And there would be no turning back.
Her lips parted slightly. But no words came. The silence stretched.
The entire hall stopped breathing. Hundreds of eyes locked onto Sonia Woodland.