Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 8: Purgatory

Kane paled. "What?"

Jagged silence fell. A fresh wave of horror filled her.

"Oh. Gods." Seraena raised a hand to her mouth. "That's not how I wanted to..."

"You're getting married?" Kane asked.

His blue eyes were shadowed. He looked like a statue in the fading light, a monument made of granite and steel. The angry burns on his arms had a pearl-like sheen, and Seraena had to look away.

"That's their condition," Seraena said. "For keeping the throne."

"Who is it?" Kane asked.

His voice was short. Seraena swallowed. "I'm not sure. Cillian has a short list. Foreign nobility, wealthy merchants, political figures... the usual."

Silence fell. Kane stared at the sword in his hands, his head half-turned away, and she thought of the sunflowers that grew along the Wyterlynnish coast in the summer, how they would turn away from the sun and droop as autumn came. Not that Kane was a sunflower, Seraena thought; he'd never needed her light to grow.

Seraena stepped forward. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." She laced their fingers. "I won't agree to it."

She couldn't. Not just because of Kane, but because it went against everything she stood for. Everything it meant to be an independent female ruler. Kane turned their hands over, and Seraena thought of a checkerboard, light and dark nestled together.

"You should," Kane said softly.

It took a second for the words to process. "What?"

"Tell the council you agree," Kane said.

Seraena drew back. "Kane..."

"Hear me out," Kane said, raising his head. "How long until you get married?"

"I'm not sure." She hadn't thought to ask. "A month or two, maybe? Cillian wants to throw some sort of ball first. Somewhere I can meet the suitors before the council decides who I'll marry." Seraena narrowed her eyes. "What?"

Kane's mouth was a thoughtful line. He looked down at Seraena's ring finger — bare, calloused from years of weapons training — and then up at her face.

"What if you played along?" Kane asked. "Bought yourself more time?"

She frowned. "Until what?"

"I don't know," Kane said. "Until we can figure out a way out."

Her grip tightened. "I don't want to lose you."

"I know," Kane said.

Seraena shook her head. "I can't lose you. But I also can't..."

His face softened. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

And he did, Seraena thought; Kane understood her better than anyone. Her eyes stung. "If I do marry, it'll be a marriage in name only. My husband would be a means of appeasing the council. That's all."

Kane looked down at their interlinked hands. The knot in her throat grew thicker.

"You could move into the palace," Seraena said. "Nothing would have to change."

"Yes," Kane said softly. "It would. Because the idea of living in a palace with you... Of watching you laugh beside him during meals, seeing him touch you in the corridors..." His face tightened. "That's not a life, Seraena. That's purgatory."

"Kane." Her voice sounded thin. "Please."

He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. "We'll find a way out."