Too Late, Your Grace: I'm in Your Rival's Bed

After ten years at Locke's side, he finally agreed to marry me at the Sacred Cathedral, with the cardinal himself as witness. I spent the next month in a happy daze, hand-embroidering a cloak for him in gold thread. The night before the wedding, I carried it to the side hall to find him. Before I reached the half-open oak door, I heard the knights laughing inside. "Your Grace, are you really marrying Lady Juliet tomorrow?" Locke swirled the wine in his glass. "Of course not. A woman who can't give me an heir has no business becoming the next duchess." Someone laughed. "Aren't you worried she'll be crushed and walk out?" "Walk out on me?" Locke scoffed. "She's spent ten years clinging to me like a vine. Even if she throws a fit and runs, she'll come crawling back inside three days." A roar of laughter went up inside. Out in the corridor, my blood ran cold. The cloak slipped from my arms. I'd sewn ten years into it, one gold stitch at a time, over more nights than I could count. Tears splashed onto the embroidery. I bent down, picked the cloak up, and went back to my room without ever opening the door. That night, I pulled out the last gold stitch and wrote a declaration to the archbishop in my own hand. The next day, I didn't wear my wedding gown. I put on a white dress, draped a black cloak over my shoulders, and pinned my parents' old crest to my chest. A wedding gown was meant for a new beginning. I had come to bury ten years of my life. Locke stood beneath the cathedral's glittering dome. The second he saw what I had on, his face darkened. "Do you know what day this is? Are you trying to shame my house?" I studied the familiar face, still searching for even a trace of guilt. There was none. "Let's begin." My calm set him off. He hauled Daphne out of the crowd and dragged her onto the dais. Her black cloak slid off her shoulders, showing an elaborate wedding gown she'd obviously prepared in advance. "Your Grace," Locke said to the archbishop, "Daphne will be the next duchess. Let God witness our vows." Every guest in the cathedral turned toward me. Some pitied me. Others smirked. But the archbishop didn't open the book of rites. I unpinned my crest and set it down in front of him. My eyes burned, but my voice stayed clear. "Let the record show that Duke Locke broke our betrothal today. As of this moment, I withdraw every guarantee I have ever made on his behalf." His contempt came right back. "You think that scares me?" "You'll find out." I fastened the crest to my cloak again and stepped down from the dais. He sneered behind me. "I'll be waiting when you come crawling back in three days." I didn't turn around. "Locke, I'll regret loving you, but I'll never regret leaving you." The tears I'd held back all morning finally fell once I was outside. To him, the ten years I'd given were nothing but a tiresome joke he couldn't shake. Daphne lifted her skirts and hurried after me, one hand resting deliberately over her still-flat stomach. "Juliet, don't blame Locke. This is your own fault. He needs an heir, and you aren't worthy of giving him one." I wiped away my tears and tried to walk around her. "Move." She suddenly screamed and threw herself backward. "Juliet! Why did you push me?" I hadn't even touched her, but Locke had already rushed outside and seized my arm. I pointed to the clergy and guests around us. "Everyone saw what happened. Daphne, are you really going to lie in front of all these witnesses?" Daphne's eyes reddened as she shrank into Locke's arms. "Forget it. I'm fine. She's only acting this way because she's heartbroken." That only fueled Locke's anger. "You still refuse to repent. Hold her down. Twenty lashes!" The knights forced me onto the cold stone steps. The first strike nearly blinded me with pain. Locke stood protectively in front of Daphne and looked down at me as if he were waiting for me to beg so he could show me mercy. I bit down on my lip. Even when blood soaked through my white dress, I made no sound. I only raised my head and looked at him. "I won't forget what you did to me today, Locke. Make sure you don't forget either." By the tenth lash, I could no longer tell whether my back or my heart hurt more. Once, the slightest fever had kept him awake beside my bed all night. Now he watched me bleed, furious only because I had defied him. That evening, I was cast out of the duchy, my body covered in wounds. Before I left, I handed the old steward the letters I had already prepared and told him to send them to the northern lords and the merchant guilds. "My lady, what will you do now?" he asked, his eyes red. I looked back at the castle where I'd spent ten years. "I always thought I'd have no home if I left. Now I want to find out whether I actually need Locke to survive." There was no moon that night. I dragged my battered body to the border between the two duchies before I finally lost consciousness. When I woke again, I was bound atop a tower in an enemy fortress, with a bottomless ravine beneath me. The man before me was Locke's greatest enemy—Duke Ronan.