Chapter 1

"Say it louder," I told him. "The people in the back look confused. Maybe they missed the part where you’re stealing my land."

A few guests went silent. Someone near the wine table laughed and stopped when Lucian looked over.

His thumb pressed into the inside of my wrist. "You don’t get to be clever tonight."

"Funny. I thought tonight was supposed to be our wedding."

"It is." He lifted the contract so the gold seal caught the chandelier light. "The marriage gives me control of Morrow territory until your family’s treason investigation is complete. Sign, and the northern estates remain protected. Refuse, and the Assembly takes everything by force."

The Morrow name sat at the top of the page.

Mine.

Below it, in thick black ink, was the same lie that had destroyed my family once before.

REBELLION. SEDITION. EXECUTION AUTHORIZED.

My pulse kicked hard against Lucian’s fingers.

Not tonight, I thought. Not again.

I looked at the crowd. White Candle officials filled the front rows. Judges. Inquisitors. Men who had watched my father kneel with blood on his mouth. Men who had signed the order and toasted afterward.

Lucian leaned closer. His breath brushed my ear.

"Sign it, sweetheart. You can keep pretending this is a marriage if that helps you sleep."

"I’ve never slept well beside a thief."

His jaw tightened. "Careful."

"Why? You’ll accuse me of rebellion too?"

The priest cleared his throat. "Lady Morrow, the contract must be witnessed before the cord is sealed."

"Then witness this."

I twisted my wrist.

The tiny bone blade hidden beneath my bracelet slid into my palm. I drove it through the wedding cord and cut down.

The white cord snapped between us.

Gasps broke across the hall.

Lucian stared at the loose ends hanging from his hand. "What did you do?"

"Saved us both the trouble of pretending."

I seized the contract before he could react, tore it down the center, and ripped it again. The sound cracked through the music.

One half fluttered onto the table.

The other stayed in my hand.

Lucian grabbed my elbow. "You stupid little—"

I drove my knee into his thigh.

He swore and loosened his hold. I slipped free, but the blade was already moving.

One quick cut across his palm.

Blood spilled onto the white cloth.

Lucian froze.

I held the bone blade against his throat. The point pressed just beneath his jaw, close enough to make him stop breathing.

"Finish that sentence," I said. "Go on."

His eyes burned into mine. "You won’t kill me in front of the Assembly."

"No?"

I pushed the blade a fraction deeper.

A red bead formed against his skin.

The room forgot how to breathe.

Lucian’s voice dropped. "Your mother begged before they took her away."

That did it.

My hand jerked.

His guards moved, but Lucian raised his bloody palm. He wanted the show. He wanted me angry enough to make his case for him.

"There she is," he said, loud enough for the hall. "The rebel daughter. The same violence that ruined the Morrow family is still in her blood."

"You murdered my family."

"The Assembly executed traitors. There’s a difference."

"You signed the order."

His mouth curved. "And now I’m offering you mercy. Sign away the inheritance, and maybe I’ll keep your name off the next list."

The contract pieces lay between us.

I had seen that list before.

In my first life, Lucian had shown it to me after the Morrow estate burned. He’d called it proof of justice. I’d believed him because he’d been my fiancé, because he’d held me while I shook, because I’d been too blind to notice the ink on his fingers.

This time, I knew exactly where he kept the real order.

Inside the folded marriage docket.

The one now lying beneath his hand.

I lowered the blade. Not because I was afraid. Because I needed him to think I was.

Lucian watched my face. "Finally. You understand what happens when you fight people stronger than you."

"I understand something."

"What?"

"You talk too much when you’re nervous."

His eyes narrowed.

I kicked the table leg.

The table lurched. Wine glasses crashed into the witnesses. A judge shouted as red liquid spread across his sleeve.

Lucian turned toward the noise.

I grabbed the docket from under his hand.

"Stop her!" he yelled.

Too late.

I shoved the papers into my bodice and ran.

The banquet hall exploded behind me. Chairs scraped. Men shouted my name. Someone caught the back of my dress, and I slashed backward without looking. The fabric tore free, leaving my shoulder bare and my skin burning from the cold air rushing in through the broken seam.

"Evelyn!" Lucian roared. "You’re under arrest for treason!"

"Get in line!"

I reached the side doors and hit them with my shoulder.

Two guards stood outside.

One lifted his sword.

The other grabbed for my throat.

I ducked under the blade and drove the heel of my hand into his nose. Bone cracked. He dropped with a wet cry.

The second guard caught my hair and yanked me back.

Pain flashed across my scalp.

Then someone seized the guard’s wrist.

The grip was hard enough to make him kneel.

"Let her go."

The voice was low. Flat. Nothing like the panicked shouting behind me.

The guard looked up.

So did I.

The man standing between me and the corridor wore black armor without a crest. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. A dark coat hung open over a steel breastplate, and his gloves were stained with travel dust and old blood.

His face was sharp, controlled, and familiar in the way nightmares were familiar.

Cedric Vale.

Commander of the Blackgrit Front.

Lucian’s deadliest enemy.

The guard released my hair and stumbled back.

Cedric didn’t look at him. He looked at me instead.

His eyes dropped to my torn dress, then to the blade in my hand.

"You’re bleeding," he said.

"Not mine."

"I didn’t ask whose."

His gaze held mine for one long second.

Heat climbed the side of my neck, and I hated my body for noticing the clean scent of leather and smoke clinging to him. He was close enough that the front of his coat brushed my bare shoulder.

I stepped back.

He caught my waist.

Not roughly. Worse. Like he already knew I would try to run.

"Take your hand off me."

"You’re surrounded."

"I noticed."

"Then stop fighting the wrong person."

"You’re Cedric Vale. There is no right person here."

Something hard moved behind his eyes. "You know my name."

"Everyone does. You’re the commander who burns villages and calls it strategy."

"And you’re the bride who just cut her groom in front of half the ruling court."

"He deserved worse."

"That wasn’t an answer."

Behind us, Lucian’s boots struck the marble.

"Commander Vale!" he shouted. "Release my fiancée. She is a criminal under Assembly law."

Cedric’s hand tightened at my waist.

His fingers spread over the narrow space between my ribs and hip. The armor beneath his coat pressed against my back. I could feel each breath he took.

Mine came too fast.

"Your fiancée?" Cedric asked.

"Not anymore," I said.

Lucian stopped several steps away. Blood ran from his palm and dotted the floor.

"She belongs to the Veyre household by contract."

"The contract is in pieces," I said.

"The inheritance clause still stands."

"Not if the marriage cord is cut before the seal."

The priest appeared behind him, pale and shaking. "She is correct. The ceremony was not completed."

A murmur rolled through the hall.

For the first time, Lucian looked uncertain.

I smiled without warmth. "Looks like your mercy came with a loophole."

His eyes dropped to my bodice.

He knew.

The docket.

"Search her," he ordered. "She stole official documents."

Cedric turned his head slightly. "You’re giving orders in my presence?"

"This is Assembly territory."

"Then why are my soldiers outside your doors?"

Lucian’s expression changed.

Not fear. Calculation.

That was enough.

Cedric felt me shift and looked down. "What did you take?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"You’re standing in my way while carrying stolen war papers. It concerns me."

"Then move."

His mouth tightened, almost amused. "You really don’t know when to stop."

"I know exactly when to stop. I just haven’t reached it yet."

Lucian pointed at me. "She’s lying. She has the execution order. The one naming every Morrow accomplice. If she reaches the border, she’ll hand it to the rebels."

The hall went still again.

Cedric’s gaze returned to my face.

"Is that what you’re carrying?"

I said nothing.

"Evelyn."

The sound of my name in his mouth hit harder than it should have.

I shoved against his chest. "Don’t use it like you own me."

He caught both my wrists and pinned them against the hard line of his armor.

His body blocked the hall. His face lowered close to mine.

"I don’t own you," he said. "Not yet."

My breath snagged.

Lucian laughed behind us. "She’ll betray you before sunrise. She was raised to betray everyone."

I stared at Cedric. "Are you going to let him take me?"

"Should I?"

"If you do, he’ll kill me after he gets the paper."

"And if I don’t?"

"You’ll have an enemy inside your fortress."

His thumb pressed against my pulse.

"That sounds like a warning."

"It’s a promise."

For one sharp second, neither of us moved.

Then a thunderous crash ripped through the banquet hall.

The stained-glass window behind the altar shattered inward.

A black war banner tore through the frame, its iron spearhead slamming into the marble floor between Lucian and me. Soldiers poured through the broken opening, weapons raised.

The exits slammed shut under steel bars.

Cedric pulled me against his chest and turned his body over mine.

Every Blackgrit soldier aimed at me.

Lucian stared at the banner. "Vale, what the hell are you doing?"

Cedric’s arm locked around my waist. His mouth brushed my ear as he gave one quiet order.

"Nobody touches her."

A dozen crossbows clicked.

Their bolts pointed straight at my heart.

Cedric lowered his eyes to mine.

"Now tell me," he said, "why does the woman I just saved have a death order hidden against her skin—"