I killed my father. I will not hesitate to kill someone else’s.
They were words he understood, threats and violence being the only language the King will listen to, and he had done as I’d asked. But even now I feel a sense of unease. The King has betrayed me before and I have no doubt he’ll try to again.
And while we sit beneath the stars, in the open air, that feeling only grows stronger, as I watch my new father-in-law tearing strips of roast suckling boar from the bone.
The King has invited everyone of importance throughout the Six Isles to celebrate the wedding. Distant family, governors, chief merchants, captains of the Fleet – they’re all here, and I was happy for them to come, to witness his abdication, but I can’t help suspecting the King’s motives were quite different. For him, they’re here to be impressed by his lavish display of wealth. The King does love to be admired.
Still, at least the atmosphere is warm – the courtiers are full of smiles for me, and no one seems displeased with the Prince wedding the Viper.
Finally it’s time for speeches – another ritual that requires only my silence – and my breathing turns shallow with nervous anticipation. Either the King is about to relinquish his hold over the Isles or he’s going to prove he’s as untrustworthy as ever. I fear I know precisely which it will be. And if he forces my hand, then tomorrow all memories of a happy wedding will be forgotten. The silent war for power that’s been raging between us will come to an end one way or another – and whether it’s peacefully or with violence is now in the hands of the King.
The King is the first to speak, and he begins by waffling insincere words about how glad he is to see everyone, how grateful he is to them for making the journey here. He draws everyone’s attention to the feast, boasting of the quantity, noting the quality of the wine brought up from his cellars. But when he moves on to state how happy he is that, at last, the royal family and the Viper will be united by marriage, his tone changes. He goes to great lengths to insist no one should be in any doubt that the covenant between land and sea has never been stronger. It sounds more like a threat than a wedding speech and – judging by the looks on the watching faces – I’m not the only one who thinks so.
He talks about the days to come, the great power of his kingdom. He does not address his people’s suffering, the hardships they bear. He says nothing about Adler, the monster who raised me; nothing about the fall of one Viper, the rise of the next. There’s no praising his son for the part he played in defending the East.
And there is not one word about him abdicating the throne.
When he raises his glass of wine, toasting a long and happy partnership, he looks directly at me and smiles. A smile filled with a thousand challenges. A smile that tells me he intends to go nowhere.
Just as I feared.
I hold his gaze unflinchingly. Because if he thinks for one second that I’m going to let him go unpunished for all he’s done, then he is very much mistaken. He’s had his chance and squandered it. The hard truth is this: I have to use the signed document to insist he abdicate, and if that fails, then I’m going to have to do what I should have done all along. I’m going to have to kill the King.
He looks away first, much to my satisfaction. Deciding it’s time to remind the King who he’s dealing with, I stand up.
I can feel disapproval from every side. It’s not tradition for a princess to speak at her wedding. But I am the Viper, and I will not be silenced.
‘Today is an historic moment, it’s true,’ I say, my voice firm and clear. ‘But it’s more than that. This alliance is a new beginning. For too long the islands have suffered, have been left to fend for themselves through terrible adversity.’ I pause. ‘Well, not any more. This is my vow: I will never stop fighting for you. From this day forward, the power of land and sea belongs to the islanders, to serve you above all else. And, I swear to you, peace will be restored.’
I’ve run out of words, and when an awkward silence falls I glance down at Torin.
My break with tradition wasn’t exactly planned, and his jaw is clenched with tension. But in a show of solidarity Torin gets to his feet and raises his glass. ‘To a new era!’
It breaks the spell and everyone joins in the toast.
And now I look at the King and give him my own smile. One that promises I will gladly destroy him if he continues to pursue this path.
I take my seat, allowing Torin his chance to speak. He has only kind words for his people, and he reaffirms my pledge that we will work tirelessly to end the dark days plaguing our lands.
But while he talks I can’t help thinking how hard it will be to keep my vow to the islanders. Because the truth is – I have been fighting relentlessly since I came home, and yet I’ve hardly begun to make a difference. The carnage created by Adler is not easily undone, and several notorious and violent groups of bandits continue to elude me and my crew.
I take a deep breath. In such a public setting I must remain calm. Looking around the crowd, I try to gauge their reaction to our speeches.
My eyes fall on the stranger from the ceremony. I’d forgotten about him in my fury at the King’s betrayal but now my unease comes rushing back. He is leaning against a stone wall, not sharing in the feast and he is certainly not clapping. He simply stares at me. Intently.
I look away and shuffle my foot, reassured by the sharp scratch of the knife blade still resting in my boot. Every instinct tells me I’ll need it before the night’s end.
Finally the feast is over and the music begins. Torin escorts me to the open floor where we dance together for the first time. He must sense all my misery, because he holds me firmly but with great tenderness and I rest my head on his shoulder, endlessly glad that he is nothing like his father.
I’m obliged to dance with several more members of the court, but eventually I’m able to make my excuses and leave the floor. Desperate for a moment’s peace, I move to the edge of the courtyard, choosing a vast stone pillar to hide behind, and leaning my forehead against it. I close my eyes and wonder if this will ever end. If I’ll ever be able to undo the suffering, because if not—
‘You look beautiful.’
I hadn’t heard him approach and, with the first true smile I’ve given all day, I turn to face Bronn.
‘Thank you. So do you.’
And he does, in his full Snake blacks, his raised hood casting a shadow across his brooding features. Dark, fathomless eyes peer through long lashes, eyes that I have lost myself in many nights.
Bronn steps closer, the pillar shielding us from view, and he leans to brush the hair from my forehead. The merest graze of his touch is the sweetest fire and I close my eyes, remembering the last time we were alone together. How we’d held each other, never wanting to let go, yet knowing we must, wondering if every kiss would be the last. I would have stolen all the time in the world to stay there in his arms a bit longer: two bodies, two souls bound as one. Instead I’d wept once he fell asleep, mourning the life we could never have.
‘Are you OK?’
I make a noise like a strangled laugh. ‘No. Are you?’
‘No. But I will be.’
He’s so close now; I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin and my heart beats faster, crying out from inside my chest, begging him to stay here with me. But I can feel him slipping away already. A distance that has nothing to do with proximity is growing between us.