Rosa had become a stable reference point for me before I realized it, and now that she was missing, I felt adrift. Despite my exhaustion, I found myself unable to sleep the following evening. What if the duchess were to arrive slightly too late when intercepting the next set of assassins? What if she chose to be late on purpose for her own entertainment? Anything could happen while I slept.

  The knowledge that the assassins’ direct employer never sought my death to begin with raised additional questions. Were they aware that they had different orders? Had they intended to drag me to some filthy cell in the castle’s basement, where no one except the duchess would ever see me again? Or, even worse, had they planned on holding me there until I learned to behave?

  What would happen now? Would Coroban accuse Solana of hiring the assassins, and use the incident as a casus belli to raze her estate to the ground? And what of XXXXX and Rosa? What would happen to them?

  Using her own arranged intrusion as an excuse, the duchess had ordered for my things to be moved to her bedroom and assigned a new pair of maids to serve as Rosa’s replacement. It was in her very bedroom that I endured multiple sleepless nights and exhausted days without hearing word of Rosa or the outside world.

  Then, suddenly, everything changed.

  Tonight was different. I awoke—quietly—to yet another intruder. Instead of hired killers, it was the duchess herself. She stepped around the bedroom quietly as if not to wake me, despite knowing full well that I was not asleep. I knew the duchess could see perfectly in the dark, so my trembling would have been obvious to her inhuman eyes.

  Coroban drew closer.

  “Your nerves are getting to you, aren’t they? It’s only natural.”

  Yes, you could say that, Your Grace.

  The duchess sat beside me on the bed and placed her hand over mine.

  “But don’t worry! I have great news. I’ve received the king’s permission to hold the wedding tomorrow, so everything’s going to be fine soon! All you need to worry about right now is getting some rest, and then in the morning the servants will help get you ready for the big day! I can’t wait to see how you look in your dress. I almost wish I could forbid the guests from setting their eyes on you!”

  She caressed my face and whispered in my ear.

  “I’m supposed to wait, but since you’re so special to me, I’ll tell you a secret. You must promise not to let anyone know, okay?”

  She inched even closer.

  “My real name is…

  XXX XXXXXXX

  XXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX

  XXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  XXXXXXXXXXXXX

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  XX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXX.”

  Despite the darkness, I could see the duchess’s wide grin in my mind’s eye. “Now that you know my true name, part of me will always be by your side! You don’t have to worry about anything ever again. After tomorrow, we’ll always be together! I’m so excited, I think even I’ll have trouble sleeping!”

  Feeling quite satisfied with herself, she promptly left the room.

  Her name continued echoing off the walls like a literal curse. I felt it crawling around inside my ears.

  Escaping from the castle would no longer be enough.

  ------

  After another sleepless night, the duchess’s servants laced me into my wedding dress and led me to the small chapel attached to the castle. There was already a small crowd gathered in the chapel, mostly loyal vassals of House Coroban.

  The duchess was waiting eagerly at the door, and once I entered, she took my hand and attempted to lead me down the aisle.

  “Come now, Helian. It’s almost over. Everything will be fine.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  She met my gaze with her ink-black eyes, deep like wells. At the bottom of the wells a river flowed slowly, and I felt the warm current pull me along through a narrow, winding tunnel. At the river’s mouth the tunnel opened into a wide cavern, filled with glowing moss. Fireflies danced in the humid air until they were disturbed by my arrival, promptly forming a glittering path that beckoned me to follow.

  I blinked and found myself in the chapel once again. Now, I was standing at the end of the aisle.

  A priest stood behind the podium before me, and the duchess extended her hand for me to step up and join her at her side.

  Now that I’d roused from my reverie, I shook my head and refused once again.

  “No, I won’t.”

  She tilted her head in confusion. “Why not? Everything is going to be fine. None of this is your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Familiar words, but in an unfamiliar voice.

  Those words were incorrect.

  Nothing had gone right so far. It had all gone awry since the moment I parted ways with XXXXX. Even now, things continued to go wrong.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  That wasn’t true; I bore some responsibility for all this. Even if the actions of others were out of my control, all of this—this novel, this world, these characters—existed for me, and I had let all this happen.

  I haven’t done anything wrong? That was simply untrue. I had hurt people with my lies of omission and pushed them away. I had attempted to go along with the story even though it would hurt the people who cared about me most to watch me get hurt.

  Long before this all started, I’d never told the author how I felt. I’d never given them an answer. They were still waiting after all this time. I wished I could tell them.

  If I stayed here, I would never see any of the people —the ones who cared about me so much, the ones I cared about—ever again. The story would cease to move forward, and, trapped here in stasis, I would slowly rot away.

  “I refuse, Duchess Coroban. If you truly care about me, you should understand that.”

  The duchess frowned and narrowed those ink-black eyes. “That’s not how this works.” Her grip around my wrist tightened and she began to pull me up to the altar.

  At that moment, the doors to the chapel swung open. “That’s quite enough.”

  Help had arrived, and in the form of an old man with gray hair. With cane in hand, he slowly hobbled toward the altar.

  The duchess’s face twisted with rage. “What is the meaning of this, Atropa?”

  Archmage Atropa continued his slow march down the aisle. “I should ask you the same thing, Your Grace. Why is there a magic circle around this chapel? And why is there a second circle inscribed around that altar?”

  The gathered crowd began to murmur. This was no ordinary wedding ceremony. Coroban was a demon, after all.