Authors: Tabitha Vale
Before it was time to leave, Braya shot another glance to her nightstand where the cure and the letter remained. She let her fingers graze over the paper, lingering for a moment. Frowning at the indents from the back of the paper she hadn't noticed previously, she flipped it over. She was surprised to see a whole sheet of health boosters taped on the underside of the letter. There had to be more than twenty of them. On instinct, Braya removed them from the letter and stuck them in her dress.
The weddings were to begin at one in the afternoon and end at six. There were to be five intermissions of five minutes, and each marriage only took five minutes per couple. Even though each of their roles was small, every couple had to arrive in the Great Hall at eleven for brunch and instruction, and then they were to arrange themselves depending on which group they'd been put in. Braya was part of the second group, after the first intermission.
At brunch Braya was surprised to see Page sitting at her table. He informed her that he was her new Groom, but when she questioned him on it, he remained silent. As she sat next to him, silently brooding at the switch, her mind drifted up to the purple liquid still in her room. The cure was useless for Bellamine. What about Page? Did he deserve it? She admittedly knew little about him—didn't even know if Asher really cared for him or not—but she did know that he was Channing's son. Tristant or not, he wasn't worthy of her effort. She would not give him the cure.
A woman stood to toast to their good luck and happy marriages. Braya suspected Leraphone would be standing in her place, if she hadn't run for it. At that thought, her mind drifted off.
Where was Leraphone? How did Aspen feel about having to live in hiding? She was sad to realize she didn't know enough of her real brother to venture a guess, but she did have the slightest feeling he might find anything better than living as he used to. She recalled last night at the hospital.
I don't know who our real parents are, but I was hoping you would be willing to search for them with me
. Had Leraphone told him by now? That Ophelia was their mother? Perhaps he'd want to know their father, too.
God, as if Braya needed another complication in her life. A father? Charlotte had always said their father was no one for them to worry over. Now Braya knew that to be wrong, even though she'd never given much thought as to who he could possibly be.
After brunch ended, all of the Brides were ushered up to the second floor. The corridors were decorated in white; flowers, ribbons, and anything else that seemed remotely celebratory for a wedding.
They entered a large waiting room that was connected to the outdoor sky walk; the wedding aisle that she had seen during her meeting with Asher in the courtyard below. A gleaming white carpet was rolled over it with white and pink flowers sprinkled along its edges. The giant trees sprouted up from the adorning holes that lined both sides of the platform, ribbons and flowers also ornamenting their trunks. The space below the platform was dark and impossible to see into, almost like the aisle was floating on a sea of black water. Nets had been hung over the dark spaces with more flowers sprinkled on top. With no space for pews or chairs, the audience was shoved up onto the balconies of the third and fourth floors, much like the box seats in the Moon Stadium. The sun was shining, as it did everyday, illuminating a stage at the end of the aisle.
Braya spied another room opposite the Bride's waiting room, just behind the stage, with arched, open-air windows. The Grooms were milling around inside, just as anxious as the Brides.
Braya kept to herself while they waited. She lingered near the door, debating with herself. Even though she couldn't see any route out of her fate, she was still tempted by the idea of running. Several times she wound herself up with thorny musings over what an awful person she was and nearly caught herself on the verge of tears. Upon that, she'd quickly shove Bellamine's memory out of her head and force herself to think of the only other person who could distract her mind. Asher.
And speak of the devil—he appeared just outside the door after he crossed her mind.
“Braya,” he whispered. “Come out here a second.”
She slipped out, grateful for the distraction.
He was wearing a sharp black suit with a dark blue tie. His hair was swept across his forehead, and his eyes seemed brighter.
“Did you see? They replaced Latham with Page,” he said.
She nodded. “Why is that?”
“I don't know,” he said, seemingly distressed. “Channing must have needed Latham for something else. Latham was always his most trusted Locer. Plus, I have a feeling that was why Channing inserted Page and me into the Groom program. Although, I don't know why he picked Page over me to marry you if Page is merely a replacement and nothing more.”
“I suppose that means something's going to happen,” she guessed, not particularly interested.
“Evidently,” he said strenuously. “Channing is here. Ophelia and Charlotte Malister are also members of the audience. I don't have a good feeling about this, Bray. I think we need to get you out of here.”
Braya gave a hollow laugh. “Maybe Sir Channing just wants to support his dear son in his marriage.”
“Channing would have been here no matter if his son was getting married or not,” Asher said through grit teeth. “He has Ness and all of the Locers here as well.”
“Sounds like he's got something big planned,” she said in sick amusement.
“This is not funny,” he said.
“What about you?” She asked, examining the lace in her sleeve. “Are you meant to be here, too?”
“I'm here to protect you.”
She smirked. “Does Channing know one of his little sharks is going behind his back?”
Asher looked like he loathed the idea of being one of Channing's
little sharks
. “Look, don't test me here, Bray. I'll save you even if you don't want me to.”
She fixed him with a look. “Then why didn't you, last night? You sent me unconscious. You could have done anything with me. Kidnapped me, kept me in hiding. You have that kind of control over me and I would not be able to do a single thing about it.”
Asher averted his gaze. “I thought about it...but I don't want to take you unwillingly. I want you to want it, too.”
I'd been waiting for you to bend to my will, actually, so I could put an end to this debate we always have
. He'd also kept himself at bay when they had argued over the Venusian men. Why was he so chivalrous, even though he knew he could overpower her? Why did he wait until he had her consent before he went on with his point?
“And if I don't ever agree?” She asked. “If I walk down that aisle and marry Page...if Channing jumps out of his seat and attempts to spear me through with a knife. What if those are things I'm willing to let pass? Will you interject?”
“Braya,” he hissed, “Stop saying those things. You can't honestly tell me you want to die.”
Braya pursed her lips, pretending to consider it. “It wouldn't be all that bad, would it? Bellamine suffered because of me, so why shouldn't I take the rightful blame and welcome whatever punishment follows?”
“What is wrong with you?” He asked, incredulous. “You can't keep beating yourself up! That wasn't your fault.”
“But I promised her,” she said, finding an undesirable hitch in her voice and forcing herself to look away, to recompose herself. “I promised her,” she continued in a weak voice, “that I would cure her. What am I if I can't keep one promise?”
“Human,” Asher breathed. “You're only human,” he said, reaching forward with gloved hands so that he could stroke her cheek. “With all that's going on in your life, I'm impressed that you're still standing.”
“That doesn't do me any good,” she said spitefully, shaking her head out of his hand.
There was a long silence where neither of them said anything, and they both refused to glance at the other. Braya made to go back into the waiting chamber after the silence had stretched on for too long.
“Page talked to me today,” Asher said, causing Braya to halt at the door. She didn't turn to face him, but he took her pause as encouragement to continue. “It nearly took everything out of him with all the words he told me...but he said he wished I would pass this on to you. He said he was quite afraid of you, and also ashamed that he cannot talk to you as a normal person.”
Braya slowly turned, staring at Asher to urge him on.
“He told me about his father,” Asher readily obliged. “First, I explained to him about what we read in Leraphone's letter. He told me that was not why he thought we were here. Page thought Channing had come to Venus City to get a cure for his disease. Ephraim seedlings can only do so much. He's been taking medicine, which is why he's lived past seventeen, but they will not sustain him for much longer.
“After I described the letter, though, Page told me Channing might be after the Venus Sare for purposes other than his cure. He thinks it's about his mother. She was a Venusian, a Hem Liner. About twenty years ago she had accidentally left Venus City. He didn't tell me much more about her except that she died ten years ago when Page was eight. His father had adored her, and her death destroyed him. He no longer wanted anything to do with Page and turned cold to the world. He took over as leader of the Locer Sharks a couple years after her death and forced Page to join. I had joined a little after that. He needed us to get into this city—he couldn't do it on his own. Anyway, that's not the point. Page thinks Channing wants the Venus Sare so he can revive his dead wife.”
“That's sick,” Braya exclaimed. “She's been dead for ten years. How does he expect to do that?”
Asher shrugged. “I don't know a lot about what kind of power Venus Sare has, except that it's the most powerful source of magic on earth right now. Maybe it
can
bring people back to life.”
Braya thought of Bellamine, but quickly dashed the thought away. Bringing her back to life would be an act worse than letting her die from the disease. As much as she'd give to see her sister again, disturbing her eternal slumber was not something she'd ever consider.
“So is that it?” Braya asked, settling back into her listless countenance. She examined her nails so that she wouldn't have to meet his gaze.
“Is that it?” Asher repeated, disbelieving. “Braya, don't pretend you don't care about this. This is huge.”
She shrugged. “Huge for other people, like Channing or Page. For me, though, it's quite ordinary.”
“Bray, will I have to force you—”
“We've already established you lack the backbone to force me into anything other than petty little Locer tasks,” she replied tartly. She dropped her hands to her side and took him in with her gaze, tilting her head. “Why is that, anyway? Why must you get my permission for something that doesn't have to do with the Locers?”
Asher looked like he was struggling with something. His eyes were their uneven tones of gold and blue again, and Braya felt a mingling of satisfaction and expectation at the sight of it. He was battling with himself whether to tell or not to tell. She watched on interestedly, arms folded over her chest, long sleeves hanging down to her waist.
“You wanna know why I have the decency to consider your position before I impose mine upon you?” He snarled, keeping his hands firmly clenched at his sides even though his posture suggested he wanted more than anything to lunge at her and perhaps pin her proper against the wall. “It's because I care about you. I care what you might think of me. And most of all,” he advanced closer, a mere breath away as he said, “It's who I am. It's who I grew up to be based on an event in my past. We all come to be who we are because of mistakes and problems we've faced before—just like you will be affected by Charlotte's lies, the Locer's control of you, and Bellamine's death. It doesn't mean you should let those things control you, though.”
“Charming,” she said dryly. “I think the first intermission is over. I must be getting to my wedding.”
She moved to the door, but his hand whipped out and clutched at her arm. He spun her around and pierced her straight through with his burning stare. “It's my last plea to you, Braya. Don't let yourself remain who Charlotte created. Don't put people below you because you think they're not worth your time. Don't disregard what I have to say, or what Leraphone has to say. Those are the same things that Channing does.” He paused for a moment. “In fact, I'd say you're acting so much like Channing, it's almost disturbing. His wife died, and he turned himself into a cold shell. Shunned his own son because of his grief. Braya...” he murmured. “Don't do the same.”
His words sent a tremor down her back, but she hid any trace that his words had affected her. She fixed him with a cold sneer and twisted away from him, slipping back into the chamber. A woman gathered her at the aisle, quietly admonishing her for nearly giving her a heart attack. Her wedding was next, apparently.
As soon as the couple at the end of the hall had been ushered from the stage, the music that she and Latham had chosen filtered through the court. Braya felt a small twinge in her chest—she wasn't marrying Latham, she was marrying Page. She was only the slightest bit regretful. She'd liked Latham on a small, almost insignificant level, but it had been bearable, at least.
The woman shoved her toward the aisle. Braya stepped out into the glittering sunlight and instantly felt the weight of hundreds of stares pressing down upon her. She slowly paced herself down the aisle; Page stood at the far end, on the stage with the officiant. Braya looked away. She discreetly studied the audience, throwing glances when she felt she could spare it.