“Just breathe,” Father was saying to Zadie, who was taking in air like a fish out of water. “It’s going to be fine.”

Elidi turned to Mother. “Isn’t she happy for her sister?”

But Mother didn’t answer, just waved a paper fan over Zadie’s face uselessly.

The governor grabbed his son by the arm and hauled him to his feet. “What’s the matter with her?”

“There’s nothing the matter with her. She’s just surprised,” Sami said.

“Was there something going on between you two?” the governor hissed.

“Of course not,” Sami and Mother shouted at the same time.

I looked over at Talin, who had risen to his feet and stood silently watching us, momentarily forgotten by the others. When his eyes met mine, he lifted an eyebrow as if to say, And what do you make of all this?

I wondered how much he had overheard of my conversation with Sami. To me, his expression seemed to say, Everything.

“I’m fine,” Zadie said, forcing herself to sit. “I took too much sun today and haven’t had enough to drink. Can someone please bring me some water?”

Elidi rushed to the kitchen for a cup of water, sloshing it as she hurried back to Zadie. “There you are. It was awfully hot today, wasn’t it, Calliope?”

My mother murmured something under her breath and moved everyone out of the way so she could help Zadie to her feet. “You’re fine, aren’t you, Zadie?”

She nodded, but her eyes remained downcast. I could tell from her clenched jaw that she was fighting back tears and failing.

As everyone returned to the table, Talin lifted his cup again.

“To Nor and Samiel,” he said.

I drank this time, wincing as the liquid hit my tongue. It was much stronger than the watered-down wine from the celebration after the ceremony. Talin watched me over the rim of his cup, his eyes glittering with amusement. Next to me, Zadie lifted her cup to her lips and lowered it without sipping, without blinking or smiling. I wanted to tell her it wasn’t my fault, or Sami’s, that neither of us wanted this, but I couldn’t here.

Finally, when all of the plates had been picked clean, the adults excused themselves to speak out on the balcony.

Talin lingered. He wasn’t a man in the same way Father and Governor Kristos were, but he wasn’t a boy like Sami, either. I was about to take Zadie aside to talk when he stepped in front of me. I swallowed and glanced up, taking in the damp curls at his neck and temples. He must have been roasting underneath all that heavy fabric. It served him right for smirking at me.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” he said in a low voice. His accent didn’t have the sharp edge to it that the Ilarean men we met in the floating market had.

Thanking him felt too much like I was a willing participant in the betrothal, so I bowed my head instead. He stood so close to me that the hem of my gown nearly brushed his black boots. Contrasted with such a dark color, the red suddenly didn’t seem quite so gaudy.

“How are you enjoying your stay in Varenia?” I asked, my voice sounding small and childish to my ears. How unsophisticated must I seem to someone like Talin?

“I haven’t been here long,” he said. “Just a few hours. But the warmth and vibrancy of this place are like the break in a storm.”

I glanced back up, startled by his choice of words.

He must have read the confusion in my face, because he opened his mouth to speak again before I had a chance to respond.

“Talin, please join us,” Elidi called to him from the doorway.

He closed his mouth and bowed to me. “Please excuse me, my lady.”

Talin followed Elidi to the door, but paused on the threshold, glancing back at me and smiling softly. I turned away, blushing.

Zadie looked so small and alone at the table. Ashamed for talking to Talin when I should be with my sister, I rushed to her side, but she refused to acknowledge me.

“Sister, please, look at me.”

“You knew about this, and you didn’t tell me,” she said in a brittle voice.

“We just found out, and we were still hoping to talk them out of it. We had no idea they were planning on announcing it tonight.”

She arched an eyebrow. “We? You’re a ‘we’ now?”

I shot a look at Sami, who stood silently on Zadie’s other side. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled it back into her lap without looking at him.

“This wasn’t our choice, Zadie,” Sami said. “You know I’d marry you if I could. But you’re leaving.”

“You say that as if I want to,” she said, finally looking him in the eye. “Tell your father that you love me, that you want to marry me. He doesn’t have to send me to Ilara. He can send Alys. Or Nor.”

I flinched at her tone. “It wasn’t the governor’s choice. Besides, the emissary has seen you now. The elders can’t just say they’ve changed their minds.”

The tears finally spilled over her lashes and onto her cheeks. “Why not?”

“You’re the most beautiful girl Varenia has ever known,” Sami said. “They couldn’t have chosen anyone else.”

“And yet you don’t want me.”

He ran a finger up Zadie’s cheek, catching her tears. I looked away, not wanting to bear witness to such an intimate gesture. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to marry you. We are all caught in the gods’ plans, like fish in the current.”

She clutched at his tunic. “Then swim against it. Change the plan. Don’t let them take me from you.”

He gathered her into him and rested his chin on the top of her head, and she sobbed against him, sadder than I’d ever seen her.

Anger and despair rose in me. This couldn’t be the gods’ plan for us. It all felt so wrong.

I went to the door at the back of the house and stepped onto the walkway, where I was immediately hit by a gust of hot wind. The red fabric of my dress whipped around my body, and my braids thrashed against my face. I placed my hands on the balustrade that had once belonged to Ilara’s ship and leaned into the wind, calling out my prayer to Thalos. But if he heard me, he had nothing to say in return.

* * *

Later, after we’d said our goodbyes to the governor and his family and returned home, Zadie lowered herself onto our bed and rolled away from me before I could say a word. I’d seen her take Sami’s hand earlier, when the grownups weren’t looking. She’d forgiven him, and yet she had not forgiven me. With only five days left together, I wondered how many I would lose to her anger. My hand hovered over her shoulder, but she only pressed farther away from me, so I retreated to my side of the bed, feeling my own anger kindle in the dark.

None of this had been my choice. She had to see that. She knew I didn’t love Sami, that I would have gone in her place if I could. Perhaps she just needed someone to blame—but I wished it didn’t have to be me.

I slept fitfully that night, at times too hot and at others too cold, kicking off my blanket and then reaching for it again. When I woke in the morning, stiff and exhausted, Zadie’s side of the bed was empty. I went to the balcony, expecting to find my twin, but she wasn’t there, either.

The sea was calm today, a dark gray-blue that faded into the horizon, where the lazy sun slowly crept its way out of the water. I had always loved watching the sun rise and set, the raw beauty of nature. But now my stomach turned in a way that was becoming all too familiar. The thought of a hundred more years of this same view was maddening.

I was about to rise and go back inside when I heard a noise from below the house. I crept to the edge of the balcony and peered over.

Sami and Zadie were in our boat, whispering.

I had opened my mouth to call out, Zadie’s name on the tip of my tongue, when Sami leaned forward. The next thing I knew, they were kissing.

For a moment, I just stared at the two of them. I’d seen people kiss before—mostly my parents, sometimes other young people at a festival or in a boat when they thought no one was looking. But this was my twin sister and Sami. And it wasn’t just a short kiss. They were still kissing.

I pulled myself back onto the balcony and pretended to watch the rest of the sunrise. If Zadie and Sami wanted to kiss, what difference did it make to me? I didn’t love Sami that way. I didn’t want to kiss him.

Then again, did I really want my sister kissing my future husband? I scowled and picked at a splinter in the wood. Mother would be horrified if she knew. Not that I would ever tell, but the fact remained. As much as I didn’t want my sister to leave Varenia, a small part of me was grateful there were only a few days left until her departure. I couldn’t go on like this.