“Only that I might be …” my throat works, “marrying the king.” The words burn coming out. “Whose idea was that?” I ask.

The general’s lip curls with disdain, and he shakes his head. “His,” he says.

After I killed the king’s men, I’d assumed that if he ever got his hands on me, he’d execute me, regardless of his feelings. In the end, that’s what war is, a string of revenge killings.

But his men hadn’t tried to kill me, and they’d had many opportunities during my escape. He always wanted me alive.

I wonder if the peace agreement the representatives agreed to was the same one the king presented my father. If it was, then the man that raised me would’ve died in vain. I suppress my shudder.

The general clears his throat. “The king has a jet here waiting for you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

“He gave us orders to leave you be until you were ready.”

I’m struck by two things the general has said. One, the general is taking orders from the king. For as long as I’ve known the general, he’s been the de facto leader of the WUN. It’s strange to see him abdicate his leadership role.

And two, I’m stunned that the king gave those particular orders. Had circumstances been different, I’d say it was kind of him. But I’ve come to learn that this is the king’s style—to cut you up then kiss the wounds he inflicted.

“Now that you’re here,” the general continues, “we will contact the king’s retinue and let them know you’re awake. They’ll probably have you board the flight as soon as possible once this happens; they are going to assume you’re unwilling and dangerous.”

I nod.

“Once you arrive at the king’s palace, he’s planning on announcing the end of the war and your engagement.”

I scowl at this; the thought of being engaged to him causes me physical discomfort.

“It sounds like there are already wedding preparations in the works,” the general says. “It’ll be filmed and aired over the Internet—the thought is that the wedding will symbolize the marriage of two hemispheres. It’s quite brilliant, actually—it should go a long way to encourage peace.”

“Don’t,” I say. My breaths are coming out quick and ragged. I can’t bear to hear more on the subject.

The general puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be okay, Serenity. The asshole actually seems to care about you.”

My eyes flick to the king. “Don’t lie to yourself, General. I’m marrying a monster.”