"Laila! Laila!"Malcol shouts in my ear, terrified enough to nearly deafen me. His face is pale, his breathing frantic.
"What are you doing?"
"Playing the part of a wet chair while enjoying the view. Isn't it obvious?" I laugh weakly."And please don't scream at me like that again." I glare at him accusingly.
"Did you fall into the lake again? Are you okay?"He grabs my hands, checking me over as if searching for broken bones.
I remain curled up on a large rough stone facing the lake, which mocks me in silence. My clothes are dripping, my hair soaked. There's no way to pretend I didn't go into the water.
"Yes, tadpole, don't worry. Last time I nearly drowned because I hit my head, but I've now confirmed I can swim fairly well by instinct."
"You're insane! Did you go into the lake alone?"It's the first time I see anger on his face—the frown sharpens his features. The breeze ruffles his hair, and even with the sun warming me, a shiver runs down my spine.
"Obviously I'm insane," I smile."I just wanted to look around. Then I felt like dipping my feet in the pretty water and… well, I slipped. By accident."I finish with puppy-dog eyes.
The tadpole believes me. He shakes his head, hands on his waist, then lifts his face and arms to the sky as if begging the gods for patience. I almost laugh.
Here, surrounded by greenery and silence, he looks like a little pagan praying to Mother Nature as the sun bathes him in warm light—as if he were chosen. As if this world weren't so horrid.
"Come on, stop being a grump and dip your feet in with me."I nudge him playfully.
Even though he thinks I slipped doing exactly this, he doesn't hesitate to take off his shoes. The guard and maid who follow him from afar edge closer, unable to remain discreet.He is the heir.I am just political currency.
Malcol sits beside me, pant legs rolled up. We dip our feet into the cold water while he holds my hand—his is warm, slightly sweaty. I smile at the sun on my face.For a moment, I don't feel completely alone in this universe.
I relax, moving my feet underwater; the sensation is soothing. I thought this place might hold answers—magic, a way to reverse what's happening or return home. But there is nothing except calm waters.
Then I notice his legs.Horizontal wounds—some old, some new.
"Malcol… what happened to you? What are those marks?"The hardness in my voice startles even me.
"I'm sorry… I really try, but I can't seem to be good enough to inherit the title. I'm sorry."His cheeks flush; he keeps his gaze down.
"Was it your father?"
"No, no. He hasn't hit me anymore, and anyway he isn't my father, he's ours."He finally looks at me, squinting under the sunlight."If he weren't, you wouldn't be my sister. And… I like that you're my sister."
I clench my free hand against the rough rock.If it's not the Regentus Mallory… then only one person is left.
"You know that woman is just resentful. Since she'll never reach a status like our family's, she takes it out on us. She'll invent flaws just to humiliate you."I squeeze his hand gently."You're enough as you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel lesser. Always consider where criticism comes from. Often it reflects the critic's own shortcomings. Understood?"
He nods seriously.
"Come on, let's go. The sun is setting. We can have a sleepover in my room, eat sweets, make up funny stories."I try to hide how angry I am at whoever hurt him.
"Sleepover?"He looks confused.
"It means doing fun things before falling asleep together, silly."I ruffle his hair as we walk away from the lake.
When we enter my room, our laughter evaporates—Magdia is there… and so is Lady Mallory.
"Mother? What are you doing here?"Malcol runs to hug her.
"Oh, nothing, my dear. I just need to talk about women's matters with your sister. And where have you been with Laila?"Her voice is sweet, but the last part is accompanied by a narrow-eyed stare she hides from her son.
"Well, since I'm a man, I guess I should leave you alone."He puffs his chest like a little peacock.
It lasts one second before he bursts out laughing, hugs me, and scurries out.
Once the door closes, Lady Mallory and I face each other.I hate holding eye contact… but something rebellious in me refuses to look away.
"Oh, for the gods' sake, enough already," she mutters, irritated, as she takes a seat on an armchair."Stop wasting my time and sit down."
There are snacks on the table, my things have been moved, the room smells like freshly cut grass… and her perfume.I hate it.
"I thought we'd discussed everything already. You were very clear."My tone is cold.
"Yes. But your father asked me to personally advise you on how to behave and what's expected of you regarding…"Her voice falters."…regarding the possibility of becoming betrothed to Regentus Talaveras."
Something detonates inside me.The teapot flies before I can think.A plate follows.A cup stays trembling in my hand—the impulse gone, useless like everything I can do.
I'm a rat caught in adhesive trap.
I sigh and drop back into the chair.
"Laila, your hand," she says as she approaches.
I hadn't noticed the shattered cup or the blood mixed with tea on the rug.Magdia glides over, silent and precise, removing each shard from my palm, treating the wound, wrapping it in gauze.She doesn't say a word—she never needs to.
"This isn't the end of the world," Lady Mallory says."If I endured it, you can too. You'll grow stronger, wiser…"
I don't look at her.
"You must have faith in the gods—that Regentus Talaveras may be kinder than your father. I will pray for it."
"Pray? Really? You think that old man could ever be good to me?"I shout in her face.
Her mouth opens, but no words come.She looks away again.At least she isn't a liar.
"Every excelsa woman has a duty. If so many before you endured it, you can too. That is how we honor the gods and our ancestors."
"Because you survived being the consort of a monster, you think I will too? You're wrong. Let the gods condemn me to the Endless Mire itself—it would be the same as honoring them. I'd rather disappear than live like that."I speak calmly, honestly, even as everything devours me from within.
"Laila! How can you say that?"
"Get out. I'm done talking. Leave me alone!"I shout, staring at the open balcony as the sunset stains the sky.
For a moment, I expect more sermons.Instead, I hear their footsteps retreating.
My mind spins like a storm until I accept the truth:
I'm trapped.If I run, he'll hunt me.If I ruin the ceremony, the Mallory family dies.If I accept… I'll marry a sadistic old man.
My imagination—helpful as ever—torments me.
I walk to the balcony, step onto the railing, spread my arms.For a second, I believe I can fly away with the breeze.
Until I remember they tore off my wings.
"Laila?"Malcol's trembling voice shatters the moment.
I turn—and nearly lose my balance.
The little boy stands there, pale, shaking, eyes wide.