Page 70 of A Thief to Die For

‘Ryland,’ Brother Thomas says. ‘Do you take Marian to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love her? To defend and protect her? To respect her, treating her with kindness, while holding her in the deepest part of your heart, to the best of your ability from this day forward?’

I remove the thin silver necklace I’ve worn since I was ten – a gift from my mother – and place it around Marian’s neck. At the clasp clicking into place, I meet her eyes and speak my vow. ‘I do.’

Marian retrieves a ring made of twisted grass from the bed. I stretch my hand out and she slides it on the fourth finger. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, her lips pressing into a line. ‘I don’t have anything better. But I will replace this.’

It doesn’t matter. I’d wear anything she gave me. She holds the ring in place and pauses. After a few seconds, she attempts to smile but falters. I notice her chest is rising and falling sharply.

‘Marian?’ I ask, gently.

She shakes her head and huffs a laugh. ‘Sorry. I just …’ She doesn’t finish.

‘What is it?’

Her brows pinch. ‘Nothing … other than – he’s going to hurt them, you know.’

‘Who? Soren? We’ll deal with him –’

‘No, Atlas.’ She nods, now breathless. ‘He’s going to retaliate if I marry you. Then more people are going to be hurt. People I care about.’ She dips her chin. ‘I … my friends were just attacked because of me and I …’ Her head snaps up. ‘What if I ask Atlas for permission?’ Her fingers are trembling in my hands. ‘I think I need to try. It’s the safest path for everyone.’

I stare at her, stunned and more than a little disappointed.

‘I could go right now,’ she offers. ‘I’ll beg him if I have to. Throw myself at his feet.’

I feel it in my gut; it’s the wrong decision. But I’m hardly impartial, and never in a million years would I force her to say the words that will tie us together irrevocably. ‘And if he says no?’

Her gaze darts around the room. ‘Then … I’ll come back, and we’ll do it anyway. But at least I’ll know I did my best to protect the people I care about. I don’t have to live with regret.’

Her eyes are wild with desperation to prevent more suffering. My grip on her hands tightens, but it’s false reassurance. I can’t promise that everything she fears won’t come true. My head drops, as my stomach sinks. Not going through with this is a mistake; I feel it.

But she can’t live with herself doing it any other way.

‘Yeah.’ Reluctantly, I nod. ‘Okay.’

She unties the belt and removes the white sheet comprising her dress. I shuck my jacket and wrap her in it, covering the bandages on her chest. She eyes my dark T-shirt while pulling her arms through the sleeves that hang well past her fingers. Her face tucks into the collar and she inhales, closing her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

I’m not done. ‘Let me escort you to him.’

Ryland jumps down and gently lowers me to the ground from his horse. He keeps his hand on my elbow to steady me, which I’m thankful for. The waves of pain are less eviscerating now; it’s more of a constant burning ache.

‘Can I come inside with you?’ he asks. ‘It should be me asking the Commander for your hand.’

My stomach flutters wildly. It’s still so shocking to hear that. We’re doing this. I’m going to marry him – this man who’s thrown himself in my path and earned my trust. More than my trust.

I’m giving him my heart.

Except – ‘You can’t come with me.’ I lower my gaze. ‘I plan to appeal to every ounce of favouritism Atlas has for me. I’ll lie, tell him whatever he needs to hear to gain his blessing – that I’ll spy on you, your settlement, your neighbours. But if you come, he may be … irritated. It won’t go in our favour if you’re there.’

The wrinkle on his forehead tells me he still doesn’t like it. ‘Okay. I’ll wait for you here.’

I exhale, then kiss him, pulling him firmly against me. I’ve second-guessed which path to marriage will cause the least damage, but I want Ryland to know – to feel – that I’m not second-guessing my choice to marry him.

His chest rumbles with a sound that has my knees wilting. His hands linger on my waist, hesitant to let me go.

‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I assure him. ‘We’ll be back to saying our vows in no time.’

Sweat beads on my brow as pain strikes like lightning with every step. My first order of business is to change into a new uniform shirt, which I do in my bedroom. Ryland’s jacket would only distract Atlas from the topic at hand – that is if I can even pry his attention from Agatha’s bombs. Somehow, I’ll need to control the conversation like never before.

As I make my way to Atlas, I rehearse persuasive arguments on how a marriage to Ryland will be beneficial. How it will create a lasting partnership for trade. Something far stronger than any deal –