“Serenity, he’s not going to kill you,” Will says as he lays me on my bed. He crouches next to it so that we’re at eye level. His gaze moves to my lips; he looks pained. “The king’s not going to kill you—or imprison you.” He takes a deep breath. “They’ve been talking about the possibility of a wedding.”

I go still. “A wedding?”

Will nods, and I can see his throat work. He closes his eyes and I see his body shudder.

“I have to marry the king?”

Will opens his eyes. “That’s what it sounds like.”

“I have to marry my father’s killer?”

His face crumbles and he looks away. “It’s better than death or imprisonment,” he says, his voice rough.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” I scream.

Slowly Will gets up and backs away from me. “I’ll make this right, Serenity. I swear it.”

I pretend I don’t hear his words. I’m tired of promises. Of vendettas. Of posturing. Of politics and death.

Once he leaves the room, I curl into a ball and pretend nothing exists at all.

I stay in bed for another two days, shaking, sometimes rocking myself. Eventually I eat the food that someone’s left for me, one small bite at a time. My stomach contracts painfully as each piece of food enters, and I have to fight off my rising sickness. I drink some water, if only to get rid of my splitting headache.

By the end of two days, the most painful emotions have dissolved away. I still feel like one giant, open wound, but I can think through it. I can be rational. Somewhat.

So I get up, wash myself, get dressed, and head to the conference room. Not surprisingly, when I get there, the representatives are in session. I’ve rarely seen them outside this room.

The group quiets when they see me. “I’m here to cooperate,” I say, striding into the room. “I’ll do what you want for the good of the country. What do you need of me?”

For a moment no one speaks. For all their smooth words, I’ve managed to silence these politicians several times over the last few days. Then the general approaches me, and in a rare show of emotion, he envelops me in a hug.

“You are the daughter I never had,” he whispers into my ear. His voice is gruff. “I’d hoped you’d make my son happy one day.”

I wince at his words. He doesn’t know that he’s making this so much worse for me.

He pulls away. “Has Will told you anything about what’s going on?”

I glance about the room. I don’t see the general’s son; I wonder if he’s been playing hooky just like I have.