I bristle. Of course that is all my father sees when he looks at me.
It doesn’t matter how many lords I have sweet-talked on his behalf, or
how many balls I have attended to serve as a pretty distraction while he
makes his plans for the war.
It doesn’t matter that I agreed to this marriage to strengthen his
kingdom.
“Of course.” Sebastian nods, leaning back in his seat as though he
doesn’t notice the crown atop my father’s neat white hair. “These creatures
are unpleasant to behold for those of the fairer sex. Though surely she gains
enjoyment from them killing one another. The wolf clans have ravaged our
lands for centuries. They murder, and brutalize, and steal. To any woman
traveling alone, unlucky enough to encounter one, they bring about fates
even worse than death.” He arches an eyebrow. “If you know what I mean.”
“I do,” says my father.
Sebastian sips his ale. “Though, I suppose your women don’t encounter
many Wolves down south—thanks to my armies guarding the border.”
“An honorable duty in service of our great kingdom.” My father doesn’t
deign to look at the lord. “And one that comes with its rewards.”
“Oh, indeed.” Sebastian’s eyes darken.
I try not to recoil. I will my body to be a statue, a vessel for the soul
within. I allow my mind to glide across those wild mountains, even though I
can never go there myself. Even though I will always be a prisoner to castle
walls, and a woman’s body.
A prisoner. Or a prize. That is all I have ever been. I will be both when I
am wed to the lord in exchange for his continued allegiance to my father.
“If she has some sentiment for the creatures, however—”
“She does not.”
“Still, she should know that not only is this beastly aggression in their
nature, there is glory in fighting, too,” says Sebastian. “People throughout
the Borderlands learn the names of the top fighters. And those who win
their matches tonight will be moved to the more spacious kennels and fed a
good supper. Concubines will tend to them too, to help them release their
wolf in different ways.” He drums his fingers against his cup. “As
distasteful as that may be.”
“Indeed,” says my father.
I watch the muscular, shirtless forms in the ring, snarling and bloody.
There is certainly cause to be wary around Wolves. And yet, as I look at the