Ayla Thorn's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

Ayla did not ask the prince about the note. She folded it into her sleeve and let the week move. The announcement was read. The dressmaker was paid. The council set the date. She told herself she would look for the other woman after the vows, when she had the ring and the title and the room to move. She turned her poison ring once each night and slept in short pieces. The morning of the wedding, the kingdom filled the square outside the cathedral. Bells rang from the twin spires. Red banners hung from every arch. Children sat on shoulders. A choir warmed up inside the nave. The maids laced Ayla into a white lace gown with a fitted bodice and a long train, and this one was hers, paid for, no borrowed stones at the ribs. She could breathe. She almost wished she couldn't. Prince Adrian Westmont was waiting for her in a side room off the vestibule. He had sent the attendants out. His blond hair was combed flat. His jacket was buttoned wrong at the collar and he had not fixed it. "I need a minute," he said. "Before we go in." "You have one." He looked at the floor, then at her. "There's someone else. There was. For about a year." He did not soften it. "I ended it three days ago. She's gone from the keep. I didn't tell you because I was a coward about it. I'm telling you now because you deserve to walk in knowing." Ayla held very still. The note in her sleeve pressed against her wrist. She had prepared six answers for a lie. She had none for this. "Why end it," she said. "Because I meant what I said in the garden." He shrugged, small. "I can't marry you and keep her. That's not a marriage. That's a room with a door in it." She watched his face. It did not shift. He was not asking her to forgive him. He was telling her the ledger before she signed. She stepped forward and fixed his collar. Her fingers were steady. The poison ring caught the light against the white lace and she turned it inward, out of sight. "Then we go in," she said. They went in. The cathedral rose above them in pale stone and colored glass. The kingdom stood. The choir began. Ayla walked the long aisle without curtsying to anyone, and she said the words when it was her turn to say them, and he said his, and the crown was set on her hair. Outside, the bells went again. The square roared. She was queen. In the receiving line, the dowager duchess took her hand and did not let go at once. "I said you'd owe me," the duchess said. "I'm saying now. Tonight. My rooms. Come alone." Ayla smiled for the crowd and nodded once.