The Hunchback's Reluctant Bride ✔

16 | Life & Death

His fingers grazed something, and he tugged.

One by one, the pigs turned. When the last one faded, Vadde stepped back to see what Wyrn was holding.

She was right, it wasn't paper but cloth, so small and thin she'd never have found it.

"It was sewn into your dress," Wyrn said, unamused. When he started walking, he was in a fury. "What if I hadn't been here? What if we'd split up for even a moment!"

By the time they reached the edge of the forest, they were both in a temper. Among the cheer and festivities, a beaming Shaza, wearing a crown of flowers, stood beside her husband. Even Aggu offered her congratulations.

The scene sobered Vadde while it lit Wyrn up.

Before he could march out and make a scene, Vadde jumped before him. "Wait. Let's discuss it in the night." He tried to step past, but she was quick. "Please. Not here. It's your brother's wife."

"You don't understand," Wyrn insisted. "Once the marriage is blessed, it cannot be undone. It's the law of the Living Goddess."

Even so, Vadde was still reluctant. She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder to the happiness etched into Shaza's face. Vadde wanted that for herself. In a strange way, Vadde felt sorry for her. Shaza'd just wanted to win. Wyrn was skilled and clever. She must have known he was a proper challenge. That was a proper supportive wife.

"We'll confront her," Vadde promised. "But please, tonight. Let's do it tonight. Isn't the blessing tonight?"

They ended up preparing the food, and not without a lot of arm-twisting on Wyrn's part. Vadde didn't quite know what to say, so she went about quietly making her soup. Soup was easy. She could just put everything in. As time progressed, his mood got fouler and fouler.

It was hard seeing him like this. So when another foul-mood man marched in and announced, "Never mind with the food," Vadde turned to see.

Bonn.

He put something down on the table.

If the expression on Wyrn's face was any indication, he wasn't pleased either. He let out a sigh and picked the little doll made of sticks and leaves up. It was sewn poorly.

"The magic's been sapped up."

Wyrn agreed. "It took quite a hit." He picked his head up and asked his brother, "This is what you're mad about?"

"She cheated." The hurt in his voice was hard to bear. "She cheated."

"Where's the other one?" Wyrn asked. "The one for her?"

The doll was strange—it looked like Bonn, even down to the red string for hair.

"We're too different. We're too unalike."

Wyrn warned, "She'll argue that it was just a guardian trinket. And one for you—one that saved you if the state of it means anything." He hesitated then asked, "You—you fell?" He turned the doll over. "On your back?"

"Once, but it was nothing."

Now when Vadde regarded the doll, she examined all the parts that were barely hanging together.

"It doesn't look like nothing. The arm and leg's broke."

Instead of answering, Bonn pulled up a chair and sat, elbows on his knees. Wyrn left the bread he was making and took a seat across from him.

"Did you go looking for that? Trying to dig up an excuse like you always do?"

His brother's posture didn't change. "I knew she would somehow. It's in her nature."