Page 209 of Starside

He just blinks. “Don’t trust me yet? I’m wounded.”

“You would be dead if it wasn’t for me.”

“Same to you, Aris.”

“Swear it.” Spit flies with the intensity of my words, landing on him. He looks at me with nothing short of contempt. Then, his gaze shifts to my hair. It’s down, loose waves to my waist. His frown deepens.

He leans forward to say right into my face, in a voice that is brutally quiet, “This might have worked, Aris, if you didn’t need me. You won’t survive the rest of the way without me.” He says it like it is fact. He says it like an insult. He looks me up and down in a way that has me burning with anger and shame. “I’ve never sworn upon anyone’s sword, and yours will not be the first.”

We stare at each other for a moment longer.

“Fine,” I say, rising and pulling my sword out of the muddy ground. I clean it on his armor, making him bare his teeth at me. “You’re not the only one I’ll be asking to swear on my sword. After tonight, I might not need you at all.”

Then I turn around and leave him chained to the fucking wall.

Vander Evren knocks on my door minutes to midnight.

He’s wearing silver armor that matches his hair in its brilliance. Up close, I can see delicate lines carved into it, ancient symbols and sweeping designs. He gives me a quick glance that doesn’t linger.

“Perfect,” he says.

I’ve never been called such a thing in my life. He offers his arm, and I take it.

The music is getting louder as we stroll down the empty halls. Everyone is already inside. Vander told me to wait until he came to my door, to make the best entrance. I’ve been hearing footsteps, quiet voices, and attendants for hours. Apparently, the festivities will last well into the morning.

Nerves flurry through my stomach.

“Immortals … they marry, then?” I ask. He nods. “Do they … do they take oaths? On their swords?”

Vander does something completely unexpected—he laughs.

“Oaths are sacred,” he says matter-of-factly.

“So are marriages,” I say, remembering my parents’ own. They didn’t swear an oath. There was no ancestral sword, or weapon, to swear upon.

He tilts his head at me in curiosity. “Most are not” is all he says.

I can hear all the strings of the song now, a violin weaving together with other instruments I don’t recognize. It’s like a glimmering pulse, making my own heart quicken as we get closer and closer to the ballroom.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says.

“I’m not,” I insist quietly.

He snorts. “I can hear your heart racing. It’s a bit concerning.”

I clench my jaw. Sometimes I forget how different immortals are from us. How much more powerful. And I’m about to put myself in the middle of a room filled with the worst of them. I’m about to show them the secrets across my skin. I’m about to rely on them to make it to the end of the quest.

We reach the main doors, and my chest locks up. What if I can’t do it? What if I came all this way only to fail?

Vander looks over at me. “The entrance is important. Many heirs and heiresses have entire demonstrations to show their worth.”

My eyes widen. “I—I don’t have anything planned,” I stammer, nerves spinning, making me feel light-headed.

He lifts a lazy shoulder. “You’re arriving on my arm. That’s enough.”

I take a breath as we both face forward again. I straighten my spine. I might not feel completely confident, but I must look it. “You think highly of yourself.”

“Yes,” he admits. “But I’m also right.”