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Arie
I WAS EXPECTED TO walk down the aisle on my own. I stood at the back of the Great Hall, built to hold a thousand and tall enough to stack the stables on itself three times before reaching the ceiling. King Amir smirked at the opposite end of the long white runner on the dais, next to the holy man in his ceremonial robes. The Mere-girl, Rena, stood next to the holy man, wearing an enormous amount of jewelry, grinning like an idiot. Other familiar faces sat in the audience. Lady Eiena from the northern kingdom of Ahdamon, King Zhubin of Keshdi, Tahran-Shah and Sirjan-Shah from my last courtship tour, and other royals from neighboring kingdoms, were all seated toward the front of the room, while the villagers of Hodafez were seated further back.
I hid my clenched fists in my skirts and struggled to keep my lips from pursing in disgust. I doubted I looked anything like a happy bride. Yet when the guests faced me, every single one of them glowed with happiness.
“Look how happy she is,” King Amir said.
“Look how happy she is,” Enoch intoned.
They beamed.
Only Rena seemed to sense that something was off, frowning from her place by the altar.
Digging in my heels, I refused to move. I stared down the aisle at Amir and wished my Gift could’ve been flames shooting from my eyes instead of this wretched mind-reading, which had grown increasingly out of control.
At this point, bits and pieces of every thought, along with all kinds of images, echoed in my mind, no matter if they were related to me or not. And no matter how important—or unimportant. The number of times I’d listened to someone wish for a restroom since the Summer’s Eve celebration had begun was ridiculous.
Weddings were a solemn and silent occasion—yet I felt as if I was standing in the midst of a raucous crowd, everyone jostling and yelling over each other.
Amir waved for the guards to walk me down the aisle. I dragged my feet, but let them, fighting the urge to curl up in a helpless ball. I imagined a jar to contain the thoughts like Gideon had taught me. But it felt as if thousands of them scurried around, vying for attention. Each time I put one in the jar, five more rose to take its place. There were too many to manage. The mental jar dissolved.
I concentrated my rage on Amir, which seemed to lower the volume of the rest of the room to a tolerable roar. Difficult to ignore, but manageable.
“Where is my father?” I called across the enormous room. Maybe not so controlled after all. My fury broke through the soft enchantment of the crowd, ruining the ambience, but though they murmured briefly, the response was contained. Muted.
“He’ll be here shortly," King Amir replied. “Come to the altar now, Princess Arie.” Though there was no sign he was telling the truth, I nodded. A small part of me protested even as my feet kept moving.
“She’s such a happy bride.” His melodic, Gifted voice soothed those near the front. Faces smoothed over.
“She is such a happy bride,” Enoch repeated, and this time, the wave of assurance passed over the room so deeply that I felt it in my bones.
Everyone’s thoughts united as they repeated his words silently to themselves. Even though Enoch’s words weren’t directed at me, I still had to fight them.
As they listened, the vast number of thoughts around the room dropped to a trickle. I’d never expected to want them back, but I wished for their presence now, for someone to still have enough awareness to resist.
The faces I passed by were all blank. Empty. Void of self-control. Was resistance even possible? No doubt Amir expected me to become docile as well. I didn’t know what to do. If I struggled it would reveal my Gift. If I didn’t...
“Why does she seem unhappy?” Rena asked, unfazed. I could’ve kissed her. Finally, someone was speaking up!
“It’s customary to resist at a wedding.” Amir smiled at her. “If she did not, I would feel dishonored.”
A tiny wrinkle stayed on her forehead as she watched me. Words wouldn’t come. Concentrating, I willed her to be aware of the lies.
“Isn’t that right, Enoch?” Amir growled.
“Princess Arie’s struggles aren’t real,” Enoch intoned. “She will stop resisting now.”
And I did.
As they deposited me in front of Amir, I stopped thrashing, despite my best intentions. Seeing that I’d lost this first battle, I gave in to the Gift, allowing him to think it had removed my free will completely, willing my face into complacency. I still had one last resort.