Chapter 1

At the final fitting for my bridal vestment, I stepped out from behind the silk partition to find my sister Rosalind adjusting the silver clasp at my fiancé Caelan's collar.

Caelan Solyne — the High Priest of the Temple of Solyne, the most feared and revered hand of divine authority across all of Aurelia.

I had just opened my mouth to say, "I'll do it," when the adornment attendant smiled brightly and walked toward Rosalind.

"This way, my lady bride."

I stopped where I stood.

Caelan did not correct her. The Silver Vow guardsmen at the doorway kept their gazes fixed forward, faces unreadable beneath their pale hoods. Rosalind only lowered her lashes shyly and leaned a little closer against him.

Meanwhile Miles — my oldest friend, the temple's appointed bridal portraitist — lifted his enchanted lens and began capturing image after image of the two of them.

I stood there like a stranger at other own betrothal.

Almost every image glowing inside Miles's lens-stone was of Rosalind and Caelan. Not a single one of me. The actual bride.

Rosalind spoke as easily as if she were the one preparing for the bonding ceremony.

"Elara, bring me those starlilies, would you?"

When Caelan noticed I hadn't moved, he walked over and gently took the bouquet from my hands. Those eyes of his — eyes that had silenced entire councils of priests, eyes before which kings had been known to bow — held a rare flicker of warmth.

"Elara, what are you standing there for? Go look over the scroll designs. I'll come find you once we're done with the portraits."

Miles lowered the lens just enough for one eye to show above it.

"Elara, scoot over a little. You're in the light."

I moved without a word and stood in the corner.

That was the moment I finally understood how unnecessary I was.

If this bonding ceremony didn't need me, then I wouldn't be here.

...

I quietly lifted my cloak from the bench and pushed open the heavy temple door.

The silver chime above it rang once, soft as a sigh.

No one called after me.

I looked back.

Rosalind was twirling in front of the long mirror while Caelan stood behind her, smoothing the sash at her waist. Miles lifted his lens-stone again.

"Yes — that's it. Hold there. Perfect angle."

The enchantment hummed five or six times in quick succession.

I turned and walked out of the fitting hall.

The polished marble corridor stretched ahead of me, cool and empty. My two Silver Vow guards assigned to my protection fell into step behind me without a sound.

My communication crystal pulsed once at my wrist. A message from the temple's bonding ritualkeeper.

"Princess Elaria, the ceremony is only days away. Have you chosen the design for the Sacred Vow Scroll?"

Those outside the temple called me Princess Elaria of Marenthia.

Only my family and the man I was supposed to bond with called me Elara.

Before I could answer, another message bloomed inside the crystal.

"Or perhaps your sister could choose. Her taste is exquisite."

The corridor was so quiet I could hear my own breathing.

One breath after another, like I was counting something.

What was I counting?

How many times I'd been forgotten in this love?

I touched the crystal and let three words form in the light.

"Let her choose."

I meant it.

Rosalind would pick something. Caelan would agree with her in the end anyway.

The reply came almost instantly.

"Understood, Princess."

I stared at those words and could practically picture the ritualkeeper exhaling in relief.

Every choice the bride made was always changed afterward. Easier to let my sister decide from the start.

Before I could lower my hand, the crystal started pulsing again. Over and over.

Miles was pushing portraits into the shared bonding crystal — the council thread that linked the whole wedding party.

I opened one.

His composition was flawless. The afternoon light landed perfectly on their faces.

Caelan stood tall in the deep indigo robes of the High Priest, the silver embroidery along his shoulders catching fire in the sun.

The two of them looked like a sacred painting come to life — the High Priest and the woman about to stand beside him before the Eternal Flame.

I had poured everything into this bonding, as though doing so could prove that I was not always the one who got forgotten.

I never imagined that, in the end, I'd still be the one pushed out of the frame.

The crystal flared, dimmed, flared again.

Images kept blooming in the shared light.

I didn't answer.

No one noticed.

I dismissed my escort at the temple gates and walked alone down the long white road toward the small dwelling I kept near the outer sanctum.

A folded note had been left beneath my desk.

Seven days until the Bonding.

I picked it up, crushed it in my hand, and dropped it into the brazier by the threshold.

The little flame swallowed it without a sound.

The way everyone else, it seemed, had learned to swallow the silence of me.