His tone was careful.

Her jaw clenched. So, they were really doing this. They really wanted her to marry. Inia’s anger flared inside her but she did not need that right now. She needed to be smart about this. If she could not stop her parents, she could at least stall them. “I am a bit too old to find a husband”, she said.

Alvis rubbed his eyebrow. “That’s not entirely true, Inia”, he said. He could not look at her. Not even his face was turned towards her, he looked at the fire, talked to it instead. “We don’t expect you to secure a match as good as Tenja’s or Mirro’s.” He paused. “But your sister’s circumstances were similar to yours and we still found a husband who served his purpose.”

“He died because he was old. They couldn’t even produce an heir.”

“Yes”, Alvis nodded. “The good man did not have the best conditions but your sister is happy now, isn’t she? And we have a connection into the White Forest.”

She bit her tongue. They did not plan it like that. Everyone knew that Sania had not allowed her mother to find a new husband for her. She had invoked the law on that cause. A widowed spouse was a person in their own right and no one, not parent or sibling or liege could force them to marry again against their will. Yet here he was, her father, trying to act as if Sania and her parents had followed a plan, a brilliant conspiracy they had thought out years ahead. It was hard to not point that out.

“So”, he continued, “whomever you’ll marry, we find a good use for him.”

She nodded quickly. She had not expected her first objection to work. “What about Jaro?”, she asked instead.

Alvis hesitated for a moment. “What about him?”, he asked.

“What about his engagement? He told me it’s almost done.”

“Sure, yes”, her father said. “But … we have decided that it would be better for Jaro if he … stays with us for a while longer.”

“A little longer? What is that supposed to mean? And why?”

She could see Alvis’s vision getting tainted by annoyance. It crept on his face, and twisted his face, like a thin, almost invisible mask. Her stomach clenched.

“I mean”, he said calmly, “that Jaro has a special … condition. You know that. Besides, you are his older sister. It is only fitting for you to marry first.”

Inia exhaled. This was a moment, she had not anticipated when she left her room. If she had known what her father wanted, she wouldn’t have come. She would have asked him for a meeting outside on the grounds, where other people would be present. Maybe she would have arranged for Etenesh to rescue her with something at some point. But she hadn’t. She had ignored all the warning bells, all the crippling, all the weird feelings she had, had attributed them to other things. And now she was here. In that cursed library, talking to her father alone about a gods-forsaken marriage she didn’t want. And what was worse: She was down to one point. A powerful but not a good point. And she needed to bring it across right. And that was hard. Because she wasn’t furious anymore.

She wished she was.

Her fury had been strong and hot and fast and fleeting. Only fear was in her chest, clutching her heart with its claws. Fear and despair. Because she did not want to get married off to some stranger. She didn’t want to leave her home. She didn’t want to die. Even thinking it was too much. A silent confession to herself, quickly followed by a procession of images. Mirro’s face, unmoved like that of a statue, while people congratulated him for getting married to someone he did not know on the other side of the continent. Renor’s hands on hers in the moonlight, a thousand promises he didn’t make in his eyes. The dead body of a conjuress, getting dragged out of the room after Mandla’s birth.

Horror followed suit.

“What is it?”, her father asked. There was real concern in his voice, and he reached for her hand. She flinched away.

“You said, I don’t have to”, she murmured. It was not the war cry she had hoped for. It was not the strong accusation she needed. But she forced herself to look up. To look at him. In these eyes that had stopped to bring her comfort ages ago. And she did not stop.

“You promised, you wouldn’t do that to me”, she said, her voice rising in volume. “After Mandla’s birth, after what happened, you both promised it!” She wanted to scream. She wanted to rage in his face. She wanted to hit him with all she got. But she didn’t. She held on to her fury, held it close to her inside her heart.

“Hush, child”, Alvis said, oblivious to the hatred staring at him through his daughter’s eyes. “You will not die.” He made a soothing gesture. “I promise.”

She scoffed. She would not take any more promises from him. This one would have been void coming from an honest man, from him it was as empty as a whore’s purse.

“You cannot promise me that”, she said. “I am still the object of that prophecy. And unless you finally want to ignore it, you will be the first one to cut anyone down who tries to touch me with magic.”

He pursed his lips. “This prophecy is a sacred heirloom of your line, Inia”, he said. “But that is not the point. Tenja’s with child again — and this time it’ll be a daughter, the seers say.”

For a second, she couldn’t do anything but stare. In shock, in horror. The last birth had almost killed Tenja. All the healers had told her to take it slow. And now she was with child again?

And something else stirred inside her chest: When Siyabonga had been born, Inia had prayed for a girl. Day and night she had hoped for another female Orniad, someone to take on the curse she was carrying. Tenja had disappointed her. When Sania had married an ongai, she had cried and screamed and cursed her sister. For all the selfishness.

She had been younger, back then. When Mandla had been born, she had cried. He was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. She had been glad, that she hadn’t sentenced someone so pure to live with her curse.

She could not rejoice now. She would not hope for a girl. She had stopped doing that. But she also knew that she would not have a child to put that prophecy on her own daughter’s shoulders.

“So… the second there could be another Orniad female, you want to make sure I’ll be a mother at a time?”, she asked.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Not the second”, he said. “We will of course wait with everything official until the child is born. All I ask is that you open your mind to the possibility of having your own family.” He took a deep breath. “After all, your mother and I will not be here forever. What will happen to you when we’re gone? Do you want to end as a poor relative in one of your sibling’s courts?”

Inia shook her head. Her father was neither entirely right nor completely wrong. Everything she had right now was a result of her birth. And lacking that type of education someone could actually earn money with, it could be a bit difficult. That was, however, unlikely. Because she would still inherit some land, she actually possessed some of her own already. Inheritance from her grandparents. An orphanage stood there, a secure source of regular — low — payment. She did not need more right now, and could always raise the tribute if she found herself in a tight spot.

“Of course not, father”, she said. She wasn’t sure what to do. Not entirely. In her head, she had that ridiculous idea of inviting Renor to one of these meetings of unweds. For two reasons: it would shock her parents, and it would keep some of the less determined ones away.

A vandrainor was a serious suitor. But she didn’t want to marry Renor. Nor anyone else. And she could hurt him. He was stupid enough to get some wrong ideas about what was going on. No, what she really needed was more time. Time to come up with a real plan. More than nine months, or probably only six months.

Just in time, she stopped herself from grinning.

“I think, that might be a good idea. I should do that”, she said. Her voice was silent, humble. Her shoulders sagged low.

“Oh?” Alvis seemed surprised.

“Yes”, she said. “When Tenja has a healthy daughter, and I’m back from my travels.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Your travels?”, he asked.

She nodded. “You see”, she made an apologetic face, “I already promised Princess Tiyamike that I would visit her at her court. And Sania invited me to her excavation. I … I would hate to disappoint both of them.”

He nodded. “So, you will visit the excavation near Karn and then Ur?”, he asked.

Inia wiggled her head from side to side. “Well… If I’m already on my way…” she paused. “You said it yourself, it’s unlikely that we’ll find as good a match as for Tenja or Mirro… but if I travel… maybe I’d interest some candidates we would not get otherwise.”

He stroked his beard. “Hmm. I see. You want to travel the whole continent, then?”, he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s just an idea”, she said. “Maybe I could make the Saint fall in love with me”, she joked. “Or an elf.”

He grinned. “You know what? I like that. And I bet your mother will like it too.” He got up. “I’ll tell her.”

With a spring in his step that did not fit his age, he walked away.

When she couldn’t hear his stomping feet on the wooden floor anymore, Inia leaned back in her chair, her head sunk against the wall. She closed her eyes and felt how she started to shiver. That had been too easy, she knew. And it entailed a lot of things, she had to take care of. With no allies, whatever she wanted to do would be incredibly hard.

“That was … interesting”, Jaro said.

She hadn’t heard him coming. But right now, what was going on in her head was far more terrifying than her little brother sneaking up on her. “How long have you eavesdropped?”, she asked.

“I didn’t eavesdrop at all”, he said.

She could almost hear him pouting. Did he still do that?

“I just read my book a bit closer to the two of you and couldn’t help but overhear.” Now, he was smiling. She opened one eye to find him grinning in her face. It was a sad grin. He really did overhear everything.

“You won’t come back, right?”

She paused. “Yes”, she said. That was funny. Not a moment ago, not even she had been sure where that traveling plan would lead her. She had wanted to buy some time and by that, had forged the perfect way out. But there was no fooling her little brother. He had seen right through her.

He nodded. “So, what will you do now?”, he asked.

She sighed. “Write some letters, I guess. Take fighting lessons, rangering…”

“Rangering?”

“That’s not a thing, huh?”

“No. I think you mean survival tactics and whatnot.”

She nodded. “Whatever it’s called, I still need to learn it.”

For a moment, he was silent. He was looking for the right words to say something. “Will your write to me?”, he asked after a while.

She looked at him, the smile on his face was so sad it almost hurt. “Every day”, she promised. “Or whenever I can get my hand on a bit of parchment and stuff.”

He nodded. “Good.” He paused. There was more going on behind his pale eyes, she could tell. He just needed the courage to say it.

She put a hand on his cold cheek. “What is it?”, she asked.

He waved his hands. “What if… what if I could come with you?”, he asked.

Inia shook her head, caressing his cheek before letting go. “They won’t allow you to come with me”, she said. “Frankly, I am surprised he agreed to my idea so quickly. I bet mother will have hell in store for me. But you… you have ‘a special condition’, as I’m sure you overheard, too.”

“Mhh”, he looked unconvinced. “I could just run away. No one would notice.”

“Of course they would notice.”

He shrugged. “Eventually”, he said. “But it would take them long enough, I think.”

Inia looked at him closer. The way he sat, his back was bent, he had never been tall but he made himself small. His head was angled toward the ground, his ash-blond hair fell into his pale face, almost hiding the dark half-circles beneath his eyes. He sat as if he wanted to apologize with his body. For taking up any space at all. “Hey”, she said and reached for him again.”

This time, he drew away from her touch. “Don’t”, he said, and she did as he asked.

“You seem sad”, she said. It was an understatement. But the only thing she could think of right now.

He shrugged again. “You notice me”, he said and looked at her, his eyes dark with fear. “You never just walk past me. With you gone… I’m scared. It will scare me.”

She nodded, her heart full of sympathy. She knew what he meant. She had noticed her parents treating him like interior from time to time, rarely speaking about him, and to him only when prompted. It broke her heart, every time she witnessed it. How could she leave him here? The answer to that was simple. “I can’t promise you anything, Jaro”, she said. “But if you manage to sneak away, then… then we’ll go together, okay?”

He smiled a half-smile. A smile that asked for tears neither of them wanted to shed. “Thanks, Ini”, he said.