My dearest betrothed,

You are as beautiful as…

I scanned the letter to make sure there was nothing in there about me being as captivating as a rhinoceros. When all I found were mentions of sunsets and daisies—my least favorite flowers—I tossed this one aside, too.

The next several minutes were spent in a similar manner. I would open an envelope, find a generic letter that could have been written to anyone and no one in particular, then toss it. One of the letters was actually a poem, an ode to my beauty, and it actually compared my skin to goat’s milk, which I couldn’t help but think would be offensive even to pale-skinned women. In fact, I was quickly struck by how many of the letters focused on my beauty alone. Even in the letters from men who seemed to have a clue about who I was and what I looked like, I found them all to be empty, devoid of anything substantial, and I wondered how many women in Dwellen received love letters so bland. And if any of them actually enjoyed them.

Not that I minded the occasional appreciation of my appearance. I wasn’t that prudish. But still.

The next letter I opened was the shortest one yet.

Ellie,

Thanks for talking to me the other night. If I’m to be forced into a celibate marriage, I’m glad it’s with you.

Not in love,

Your reluctant betrothed

I burst into giggles. I couldn’t help it. When I snuck a glance at Evander, I expected to find that mischievous grin. Instead, his lips tugged into the softest, most genuine smile I’d ever seen from him. Something in my chest turned over.

“This is the one,” I said, my throat going dry as Evander stared at me.

“You don’t wish to look through the others?” the scribe’s voice drawled with annoyance. I ripped my eyes away from Evander’s smile, at great pains, to answer.

“What, you don’t want to have to read this in front of a crowd?” I asked, teasingly. I did feel a little bad for the poor scribe. He’d been sent to fulfill a simple task, but part of the trial included him reading off the selected letters in front of the crowd.

He did not seem the type to find our responses amusing.

“It was painful enough having to listen to the words spout from the two of your mouths the first time,” he said before snatching the letter away. I brought my fist to my mouth and pressed my knuckles to my lips to squelch the laughter. If anyone was looking closely, they would have seen the way my shoulders and chest were bobbing in silent cackles.

Though, someone was looking.

I knew, because I was looking back.

Evander was silently giggling, too.

The scribe took my letter and moved to face the crowd.

“The heir and his betrothed have succeeded in identifying one another’s voices in the letters.” While cheers erupted from the audience, I couldn’t help but notice that some of the beautiful women in the front row were sighing. I supposed they had been counting on their letters breaking up our engagement so they could have a chance to steal the prince.

A thought battered the inside of my skull.

I could have picked the incorrect letter on purpose.

I could have ended our engagement by failing the trial.

The crowd buzzed. My head, more so. Why hadn’t I even considered that? Had I really gotten so tickled and amused by the little joke I’d had the scribe jot down, that I’d completely forgotten that I didn’t want to marry the prince?

Was that even true anymore?

My own thoughts tasted like betrayal.

I didn’t want to marry Evander. I didn’t. I wanted to marry for love, and I didn’t love him. And even if I did love him, he was irresponsible and a rake, and would take mistresses. Was probably already taking mistresses, and that wasn’t the life I wanted.

Even if he did remain faithful, that didn’t negate the fact that he was in love with someone else.

I wanted someone committed to me. Not because they accidentally got stuck with me and were making the best of it. Someone who would have committed their life to me on purpose. Someone who had the choice to walk away, but every single day would choose not to.

Someone who loved me like my father loved my mother.

The scribe continued on, but I couldn’t hear his words. You have to be rational about this, I told myself. Just because I couldn’t see any immediate danger in this particular task, didn’t mean there wasn’t any. If the king had been willing to allow a trial where both his son and I would have died if we had failed, then why should I assume that I wouldn’t have been killed if I had purposefully sabotaged this trial?

What I had done had simply been subconscious self-preservation. That was all it was.

That was all it was.

The scribe read off the letter that Evander had written me, and the crowd gasped, which hurried me back to reality. I chanced a glance at the king, whose lips were pursed and eyes narrowed in displeasure. I wondered if Evander would receive a tongue lashing later. Would the king consider it to be an embarrassment upon the crown?

The grimace currently smearing the king’s face answered my question.

The queen blushed, and when she clasped her hand over her mouth, I couldn’t decide if she was preventing a gasp or a chuckle from escaping her lips.

Even from the crowd, I could hear a few giggles, a few subdued bursts of laughter.

At least someone thought it was funny.

Then it was the scribe’s turn to read my letter.

My face went hot, my hands clammy. I hadn’t considered the fact that this would be read aloud when I’d dictated it to the scribe. I’d been secluded in my room for the past few days, except for mealtimes. Apparently, the lack of socialization had gotten to my head.

I scanned the crowd for my parents, hoping to the Fates they weren’t here to watch me embarrass myself, but no… Only nobility had been invited to this trial.

The scribe opened his mouth.

My dearest, darlingest, prince,

For what it’s worth, you’re hotter than your dad.

Evander burst into a proud grin, but he was about the only one. A few stifled chokes of laughter broke the air, but otherwise, the crowd went silent. I told myself I wouldn’t look at the king, I wouldn’t meet the gaze of the king, but my primal need for self-preservation got the better of me.

I chanced a look and instantly regretted it.

The mild displeasure that had been brewing on the king’s face since Evander’s letter was read was nothing compared to the shadow that cloaked his face now.

Pure rage. Teeth gritted, eyes blazing.

When I’d first arrived at the palace, I’d found myself on the king’s good side.