“I’ll be back in the morning,” he called up to me as he descended through the door. “Take care of her.”

I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. I was still wearing only my wet nightgown, but I knew that the cold seeping into me wouldn’t go away, even after I was dry. “I will.”

* * *

We were all awake by the time the sun rose, as red and angry-looking as Zadie’s wounds. She hadn’t spoken yet—she just sobbed as Mother rocked her and brushed her hair away from her face. Her fever hadn’t broken, but the fact that she was conscious was a good sign. I was able to get her to take small sips of broth, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Father continued to pace around the house.

“They can’t change their decision now,” he said. “Surely the king will understand a few scars on her leg.”

I bit my tongue, though the scar on my cheek tingled when he spoke. It seemed so insignificant now, compared to Zadie’s wounds. But I understood Zadie’s logic—she’d needed to do something drastic to her appearance without altering her physical capabilities. A scarred woman could still provide for her family.

“Don’t be foolish, Pax,” Mother chided. “A few scars? The girl is ruined.”

“Calliope,” Father hissed. “Enough.”

She turned away from him to me. “How could you let this happen?” she asked for the hundredth time. “Two days before she was supposed to leave? She’s spent her entire life protecting her beauty, and one stupid decision has cost us everything.”

I was too tired to hold my tongue any longer. “Not everything. I am still going to be the governor’s daughter-in-law.”

I’d expected her anger, but the slap caught me off guard.

My hand flew to my cheek. Mother had never hit us, which I always suspected had more to do with her fear of maiming us than out of love. Her eyes widened for a moment, as if she had shocked even herself, but she didn’t back down.

“This is all your doing, isn’t it?” she accused. “You’ve always been jealous of your sister. You’ve never been content to live here. You’ve always thought you were better than the rest of us, that Varenia was too small for you. But you are just one more insignificant, dull little fish floating in our waters. Do you really think they’ll choose you over Alys?”

Father came to stand over us. “I said, enough.”

I had feared some people might suspect I did this to Zadie on purpose, but my own mother? Did she really believe me capable of such a thing? “I love Zadie more than life itself,” I said, trying to mask my hurt from her and failing miserably. “I would never harm her so I could take her place! You must know that.”

She turned away from me. “I don’t know you at all.”

Father took my hand and led me out to the balcony. “Tell me the truth, Nor,” he said when he was sure the waves were loud enough to muffle his words, even for Mother’s sharp hearing. “Was it an accident, or did Zadie do this to herself so she could stay and marry Sami? I know she loves him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at her. Did she ask you to help her?”

My stomach dropped like an anchor. Was it so obvious? “It was an accident.”

Father’s eyes were a darker brown than mine, almost black. His hair caught in the wind, revealing the slight receding hairline that made him look distinguished, wise. “The truth, Nor.”

“It was an accident,” I repeated slowly. Inside, the truth kicked and screamed at my throat, demanding to be released.

I swallowed it down.

“Very well. Then we will see what the elders decide. Most likely Alys or one of the other girls will be sent in Zadie’s place.” Father sighed. “And I don’t know if Sami will have her like this.”

Gods help me, I was now being forced to defend every concern I’d raised with Zadie. “He will. He loves her.”

“Regardless, his parents might not allow it.” He cleared his throat. “Especially now that the entire village knows you will marry Sami on the solstice. We have your mother to thank for that.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? No! I can’t marry Sami now. That would kill Zadie.”

He cleared his throat again, turning away just as I caught the glimmer of tears in his eyes. I’d never seen my father cry before.

I went to stand next to him at the railing, but I didn’t look at him. I was afraid he would be ashamed, and that he would see the shame in my eyes, too. “If Sami doesn’t marry Zadie, what will become of her?”

“I suppose it depends on the extent of her scarring.”

A small whimper escaped me. “I’m scared, Father.”

He pulled me close to him in an embrace, stroking my hair the way he had when I was a little girl, before the incident. “So am I, Nor. So am I.”

* * *

The elders called Mother and Father to the meetinghouse a few hours later. I was left behind to care for Zadie, who was sleeping, though not unconscious at least. She still hadn’t spoken to me, but she clutched my hand in her sleep. I was tempted to lift her bandages and look at how bad her wounds were, but I was afraid to disturb the healing process. Nemea had said she’d be by later in the evening to change the dressings and apply more salve. The little scratches on her abdomen already appeared to be healing, at least.

My sister would recover. She had to.

When Zadie blinked her eyes open, I immediately fetched her some fresh water to drink.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Are you able to speak now?”

She nodded. “Yes, I can speak.”

I squeezed her hand. “You’re not angry with me, are you? I can’t bear it if you blame me for this.”

She shook her head, her face paler than I’d ever seen it. “Nor, of course I don’t blame you. This was my doing.”

“Do you regret it?”

She tried to sit up straighter, then collapsed weakly onto the pillows. “I will only regret it if Sami chooses another bride.”

I tensed, remembering what Father had said to me. If they tried to make me marry Sami now, I would refuse.

“Nor?” Sami pushed aside our curtain, as if I had summoned him with my thoughts.

Zadie immediately found the strength to sit up and rearrange her tunic. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure you’re all right, silly.” He sat down on the other side of her and took her free hand. “How are you?”

“A little better. The pain is bad, but seeing you helps.”

My eyes flicked down involuntarily. Somehow, in the past few months, I had gone from being the most important person in Zadie’s life to second place.

He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “We’ll marry as soon as you have your strength back.”

Zadie beamed. “Your parents agreed?”

“I haven’t spoken to them yet.” He swallowed, clearly nervous. “The elders are speaking with them right now.”

“Then I’m definitely not going?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed in the room. But I heard Elder Nemea say you might not survive the journey, and it would be a...” He trailed off. I’d never seen him so uncomfortable.

“A what?” Zadie asked.

Sami sighed. “A disgrace to our people to send a girl with such terrible scars.”

Her eyes filled with tears at his words, but she managed a smile. “None of that matters anymore, as long as I can be with you.”

I may have fallen to second place in Zadie’s eyes, but she had just gone from being the most beautiful girl in Varenia—her identity for seventeen years—to being called a disgrace. I sent a prayer to Thalos that Sami’s parents would be kind and agree to their marriage. After all, her wounds had nothing to do with her ability to serve as his wife. As long as they didn’t bother Sami, why should anyone else care?

Sami and I stood at the sound of Father’s voice below. He climbed through the trapdoor and helped Mother up after. Her face was pinched, unreadable. A moment later, Elder Nemea’s gnarled hand reached for Father’s, and he pulled her up as though her bones were hollow as a bird’s.

“What’s happening?” I asked. Sami was still holding Zadie’s hand.

Elder Nemea was the one to answer. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we have no choice. Zadie must go to Ilara, even if it kills her.”

“No!” Zadie’s scream rang out amid our stunned silence.

Sami’s gaze met mine. A wordless conversation passed between us, and in his brown eyes I finally saw the truth: that he loved Zadie as much as she loved him. If she left, neither of them would ever recover.

Help us, he pleaded.

So I answered in the only way I could.

“No,” I echoed, my voice sounding far steadier than I felt. “Send me instead.”

      8

Mother was the first to respond, with a cruel laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She strode toward me and jammed a finger into my chest. “It’s what you wanted all along. Even the elders know you did this.”

I pushed her hand away and turned to Father. “What is she talking about?”

He let out a long, ragged sigh. “They believe this was your doing.”