chapter twenty one

The sun peeking through the windows does little to ease my discomfort. My hands shake on my lap, and my corset feels tighter than usual, making breathing harder.

“Having regrets now?” Odin’s voice is a murmur, something I hear faintly as I watch dust in the streak of sunlight make its way to the floor. Everything is eerily quiet. Even him. He’s on the other side of the room, back against the wall, eyes closed.

I sigh, wishing I could be anywhere but here. “No. I feel anxious. Like the whole country depends on me.”

“Maybe because it does.” I wait for him to continue while he rolls his shoulders, a gesture he does when he feels out of place. “You know, if you strike a deal with them, then maybe we can tackle Lanese’s invasion quicker.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I control the urge to snap. “The only deal they want is for the decrees to be gone, thing to which the council will never agree to.”

He opens his eyes groggily. “So why even call a meeting in the first place when you can’t offer them anything?”

Fuck it. “You know what? Forget it. I’ve got enough to deal with other than your pessimistic ass.” He fixes his eyes on me, green pebbles taunting. “You shouldn’t even be here. It’s supposed to be private.”

“I have to make sure you’re safe.” His hands fall to his pockets, a sly smile playing with his lips. “I’m becoming king in six days.”

“Conceited ass,” I mutter. “Heard that.”

We wait for a couple of minutes. They drag on forever, hours and hours of excruciating uncertainty. I count the seconds by drawing circles on my arm, trying to drop my habit of biting my nails. Something my mom hated and now, Greece insists it makes me look naïve. Why do I keep getting myself in these situations?

I’ve had my fair share of awkward, uncomfortable moments. However, the feeling I get in my gut and Odin’s face confirm my fears. This isn’t something I’m prepared for. Father chose not to do it for a reason, but I’ve grown tired of waiting on the line and being handled like a puppet on strings. I need to make choices of my own, and now even more so with Lanese chasing our tails.

It’s hard to explain the nausea I feel. It’s similar to the time I rescued that boy from being killed in the massacre. I knew I was stepping out of line but didn’t care. My little episode caused a domino effect, ending with my parents being gone and me becoming queen. Is this what this meeting will unfold? A consequence I don’t know I can deal with?

Odin has been behaving weird all day. He knew the meeting was coming early in the morning, but his quiet and serious attitude makes me feel there’s something more clouding his thoughts. I tried asking him about it, but he shrugged it off, insisting he was just getting ready to provide security when we were in the room with the brides’ leader.

Now I’m not so sure. I curse the part of me wishing for him to hug me close, ask me if

I’m alright and calm my fears with the assurance I’ve grown accustomed to. Unfortunately, all I get are darting, green eyes and a stiff posture from his part.

His usual uniform is substituted for a deep, rich red. So is my dress. Unity and class, Heaven said. She begged to be here, but I differed. This isn’t about Lanese, and even if it were, she and her army have enough advantage as it is.

There’s a gun on one of Odin’s hips, a knife on the other. It’s weird seeing him with weapons. I’ve grown used to the loving, sweet- though-jerk Odin. It’s hard reminding myself a couple of months ago, before our paths crossed, he was a soldier with no issues killing the opponent.

However, life in court is never easy. Who’s the opponent now?

He looks lethal, menacing, tense shoulders, working jaw, his eyes scheming before me. I don’t have to think to know he’s seeing maps in his brain. Focal points, strategic battles, numbers and days. Always planning.

“Thank you for being here,” I whisper, if only to see if there’s a spark in his eyes to get rid of some of the chills I feel. There’s none. Before he can utter a word, the door is opened, and three guards come in, holding a girl by her upper arms. It seems tacky and unnecessary. Her body is thin. A guard could do the job himself. Her face barely registers, adrenaline kicking in. I jump at the sudden noise, furrowing my eyebrows once it hits.

She’s the leader of the brides, the one who has slowly but surely kicked the pedestal off my feet. Weirdly, she isn’t what I was expecting. Not sure what I was expecting, either.

I smile at the guards as Odin steps forward. “That’s enough. Let her go. Thank you.” Her face is bowed, so I can’t see her features. As soon as the guards release their grip, her shoulders tense, her spine straightening.

The life in her eyes takes my breath away. I don’t know what I expected, coming inside the room to meet with the issue that has been holding back Alemiss since before my birth, but it clearly was not this.

She can’t be much older than me. Probably twenty-two or twenty- three. Dirty blonde hair makes its way, straight, over her shoulders. There’s a scar on her forehead, a cross. I shiver at the sight of it.

The tissue is mostly healed, but the skin is raised, her brows up in a gesture of scrutiny. She looks me over. I do my best not to squirm under her gaze. Her eyes, greener than grass, taunt me, but I’m beyond caring for how I look as I inspect this woman. Her face is long, carved perfectly. High cheekbones and beautiful lips twisted to a sneer. If the scar and the smudges of mud on her cheeks weren’t there she could pass for a royal anytime.

Her body is thin, but her arms hanging from a sleeveless white shirt show years and years of arduous work. Odin’s eyes linger on her face longer than mine. Hemust be as shocked as I am.

I clear my throat, extending my hand. “Hello, I’m Alexandra Coltrane. You are...?”

She spares a glance at Odin before focusing on me. “I know who you are.” Her smile cracks on thin lips, unsettling. “Your Highness.” Just as I’m about to ask for her name again, Odin steps forward, offering his hand. “She’s Bridgit Glasser.”

I blink at him, unsure about how to respond. I slowly lower my arm. I didn’t really expect her to take it. It makes sense for him to know the names of everyone who enters and leaves the castle. I let it go, doing my best not to take her dismissal personal even if it obviously is. She doesn’t take his hand either. After a pause, I turn around. “Here, Bridgit, take a seat.”

She doesn’t say a word as she follows us to the table, my eyes trailing her posture.

Confident yet uncomfortable. Is that how my posture must look, too?

“Thank you for being here,” I begin as I take a seat, stealing a glance at Odin, who’s just as perplexed for our visitor as I am. He lowers himself beside me, glowering. “I organized this, so we must get to the point. I’m here to listen to you, my people, and you are speaking for them today.”

She scoffs, rolling her green eyes. Her face remains oddly calm. “Your people? Your father didn’t care about us. Or his father before him. What makes you think I believe the words I know are rehearsed coming out of your queenly lips?” Her tone is disinterested, bored.

Practiced.

As much as I wish I’d rehearsed something beforehand to be ready to deal with her, I didn’t. I settle for the truth. “Yes, that’s true. My father and my grandfather were—had a different agenda in mind. But I am different. For starters, I’m a woman, just like you are.

I understand what you’re going through more than they ever could.” I am pleased with myself for keeping my composure even if my heart hammers inside my ribs. She doesn’t look impressed.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she kisses her teeth, trailing her eyes over me. “A girl. You’re a girl, not a woman.”

I lay my hands on the table, holding her scorching gaze. Her remark stings but I let it. I deserve it. “I’m aware I’m younger than you are but—”

“It’s not about age,” she says shortly. “You have never gone through the struggles women go out there. You’ve seen nothing. That makes you a girl.”

Praying above for patience to her rude behavior, I sigh, drawing back. Odin replicates my manners. “You’re right. But we do have one thing in common, though.” She raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. I hesitate just a second, hoping Odin will understand my use of words. “We were and are being sold in order to keep men pleased and comfortable.”

Throwing her head back and laughing like a crow, she fixes her eyes on Odin, smirking. “Cat got your tongue?” she asks him. “Don’t tell me you’re doing this... marriage charade because you’re being forced to. I’ve seen the speeches, too. I know there’s something between you two because if it wasn’t, your brother’s wedding would be enough for you. For a while.” The easiness with which she talks to us as though she’s known us for her entire life astonishes me.

I bristle, forcing myself to hold her empty stare. “If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be getting married. I’m eighteen. I’m not ready for that kind of commitment, but I’m doing it for you.”

She holds up her hand, a silver bracelet glinting. “Save it. The self-sacrifice bullshit again? I’ve heard it over and over, memorized your speech so I can laugh at it on my low days.”

I tip my chin, showing her my teeth. A smile of my own. Her words betray the hint of insubordination I share with her. “So you’ve heard the speeches? You’re the leader, you must be aware of every movement I’ve made. I took away the decrees.” Little, but better than nothing, I remind myself. At least I’ve done something good, humane.

Exhaling, she pulls at her hair. “No, you took away the pretentious chores your dear aunt gave us. The decrees are still there, and thanks to you, millions of girls are dying, starving on the streets, being raped. And what are you doing about it? Playing dollhouse with me.”

I blink at her, reaching over to touch her hand. To my surprise, she doesn’t even flinch, as though she saw it coming. My skin crawls at the contact, her skin cold against mine.

“You’re the leader for a reason. May I know why?”

She chuckles sadly, eyes going to the window, far away from me. She pries her hand away with agile motions. “I wasn’t until recently when your father decided to murder the real leaders.”

At loss for words, I begin to make up an excuse. “Fath—”

Her words quiet my uneasiness. “I know. I know what you did there. You saved the kid. I won’t say I’m thankful. You saved one life out of the millions we’ve lost.” Her tone is void, no anger but no compassion either. She’s seen too much.

“What about your parents. Are they on here too?” On here, I meant the movement. Maybe if they are, I can offer her something in return. I don’t necessarily know what yet, but something will come up.

Before I get the chance to make up my mind, she smiles darkly. “Those were the old leaders. That’s why the brides chose me, I guess. Because I knew more than most.” The woman back in the council meeting Odin snuck me into burns in my memory. I shudder at her eyes. Restless, determined, bold.

Those same eyes stare through me now.

My heart sinks. She knows what’s losing both parents, too. She knows what it’s like to have their bodies displayed for everyone to see and how you can’t mourn because others will think you’re weak.

“Maybe you and I have more in common than we think,” I grind out, swallowing the rancid taste the memory of my parents leaves on my tongue. “We both lost people. Our parents, both of them, were taken too soon, at the same time. Displayed for everyone to see. I beg you to understand that, though we carry the same last name, I am not my father.”

The smug smirk splitting her gorgeous features is grotesque. “You must be desperate,” she observes. “You to degrade yourself that way.” She glowers, tracing her teeth with her tongue. “I bet your... kind carrying the same name as their predecessor must be an honor.”

Odin stares. He refuses to speak. I go on. “It’s not an honor knowing my father killed people during his rule. I am not him.You’re tying me up with him like I’m bound to make the same mistakes he did.”

“Aren’t you, though?” she counters. “You’re keeping the decrees.”

Not because I want to, I want to scream. I take a deep breath instead. “The decrees help.”

The lie leaves my lips easily, and I almost choke on the words.

“The decrees kill. Girls are being raped. Nine-year-olds, eleven- year-olds, pregnant. They die. Men use us as their sexual slaves, mistreating us. People starve in the riots, or they die at the hands of your soldiers.” She throws a pointed look at Odin. “Don’t tell me you know what’s happening if you haven’t seen it yourself.”

“I haven’t,” I admit. “Tell me more.” Odin grimaces, leaning closer to me. If he refuses to tell me, I can get the answers I yearn for from someone else.

I almost hope for her not to. I wish she hadn’t. Instead, she leans over the table, eyes on me, spilling words like a fountain, painting a vivid picture, burying it in my heart.

“Girls start being sold as young as four years old. They go to the church for four years, getting them ‘ready’ for the holy path you’ve chosen for us, and most of them are married by ten.” She bites her lip, thinking. “If a girl is caught with a boy who’s not the match, the boy is executed, and the girl is sold off for less money. Women who aren’t sold by their eighteenth birthday are sent to low-income cities. They have an auction there, once per month, of women who weren’t... attractive enough to be exploited sexually by rich men.” She glowers at me, a muscle in her jaw twitching. Is that what happened to her?

“If a girl younger than twelve falls pregnant your doctors refuse to provide attention. ‘It’s their responsibility. They’re old enough to care for themselves.’” She throws off a bunch of colorful slurs, spitting right next to Odin’s hand. He almost flinches.

My muscles clench and my heart stops. Why didn’t I know any of this? Fear and shame twist my stomach. To my dismay, she goes on.

“My younger sister, Theresa, was sold when she was fifteen. The man was a very rich noble, and as soon as the wedding happened, he raped her, allowing his other friends to do the same. She died. She was beaten to death.” At the mention of her sister, her eyes drop to the floor, the only step back she’s given since she took a seat. Odin exhales loudly, closing his eyes for a second.

I swallow my concerns, leaning in. I fight to find my voice. “And you? You’re older, are you—”

She looks at me, pink cheeks flaming. “Yes. I was sold five months ago.” I see doubt cloud her green eyes for a second before she closes them, exhaling. “I’m pregnant.”

For some reason, her eyes lay on Odin as she says the words, deep and soft, her hands shaking on the table.

I nod. “I will look after you personally. You’ll have a doctor who will—”

“The doctors are there. I have one. But millions of girls don’t. In fact, I don’t need one.” I brace myself for what’s about to come, like I have any way of knowing. “I’m getting an abortion.”

“You’re not stupid, Bridgit.” Her defeated smile takes my breath away. “An abortion is even worse than the actual birth. You could die.”

“I’ll die either way.” She shrugs. “My husband, or you, charging me with treason. Why would I bring a baby to this world? What if she’s a girl? What will I tell her when her innocence is gone at the hands of a spoiled, unloving man? How will I have the heart to sell her off?”

Odin shakes his head, sitting straighter. “An abortion isn’t a choice,” he growls.

They trade glances. I get the feeling they have their own language, even if they’ve known themselves for less than an hour.

“You’re going to tell me what to do with my body now, too? Or what? Was this a decoy to send me to jail and get me killed? Because if it is that way, my people won’t be too glad about it.”

I intercede, blocking whatever Odin was about to say. “Don’t get rid of the baby.” The words come out rushed, begging. “I promise you, if it’s a girl, I won’t allow the church to take her. Give birth to her. Or him. Please.”

She raises her eyebrows, taken aback. Clucking her tongue, she can only smile. “Is this what privilege feels like? Why not offer the same condition to the millions of women dying from abortions or rape?”

Guilt slows my resolve. “I can’t take the decrees down,” I mumble.

“Why not? You’re queen.”

I sigh, struggling to paint the picture and omitting the incriminatory words at the same time. “In a monarchy. You’d beamazed, but not everything is ruled by me.” I bow my head, closing my eyes. “If I had it my way, the decrees would be gone. I promise.”

She snorts. “Promises are worth nothing when they’re void,” she shoots back. I know that all too well. “You are a queen. A queen born. The council can’t force you; your king can’t force you, and most people need the decrees gone. What’s stopping you?”

The legacy I swore my father. Lucas. My head and Odin’s. Lanese. The council.

Too many things to count.

“I can’t change something which has been established since before I was born,” I answer

instead.

She briskly nods. “Have it your way. I came here to bring some light to the truth you’re so eager to ignore. I also came by to...” She opens her palms, trying to find the right words. “...attempt to strike a deal. Of course, now that you’re so sure the decrees can’t be dropped, it has turned more into an ultimatum, if you must.” Her eyes focus on mine. I shudder under her gaze, unspoken words and a light behind them filling them with rage.

Rage, I understand. Rage, I feel.

“You can’t—” Odin begins.

Like I’m witnessing this from another perspective, I can only nod. “What is it?” I spit.

She leans back on her seat, licking her lips. “Drop the decrees or you’ll lose someone.”

“Won’t work,” Odin chides, smirking. He stands up quickly, a soldier ready for action, hands on his hips. “We have security—”

Bridgit lets a low guttural growl. Laughter, I realize. “The security has failed you twice before. Two sieges in the same year? Killed the king and the queen? Wake up, people!”

She jumps, extending her arms. She slams a fist against the table. For a second I wait for it to splinter, crumble, just like my brain begs me to. “We own the castle, Alexandra.” She turns to me, tipping her head. She looks menacing, dangerous. I’d wager she knows as many ways to a slow death as Odin does. Could kill me just as quickly. “Drop the decrees. You thought losing your father was bad enough?”

I blink, memorizing her features. “When?”

She smiles, crossing her arms lazily. It’s like poking a bear. Odin’s feet dig into the carpet. “Curious, huh?” she teases.

“If she tells the plan fails,” echoes Odin.

He is a soldier, but diplomacy is my suit. I can read this girl easily. I know what she’d do, what I would do were the roles reversed. I might have the crown on my head, but they have the numbers, the power.

Bowing before me, she laughs. “I can tell you when and I’m sure the thing won’t go to hell. Can’t you see?” She gestures to the room around her, sounding like a maniac. Her words slide through her lips, hissing like a snake. “You’re like puppets moved by bigger, imposing puppeteers. It’ll happen on your wedding day.”

She raises herself to her full height once again, puffing her chest. Odin calls the guards.

They don’t come. “Sleep on it, Your Highness. The clock is ticking.”

Just like she swore she did, she opens the doors by herself, skulking out proudly. No guards on the hallways. She leaves on her own feet, a demonstration of the power they

hold.

The power undermining mine.

__________

hiii! i dont know what bridgit came off as to you, but i love the idea of her in my mind lol. let me know what you think!

thank you for reading!

-goldenmel