chapter 2
1982 Words
The venue was a cathedral of bad ideas.
Marble floors so polished Kael could see his own face in them. Stained glass windows depicting war heroes he'd never heard of. Six hundred guests in pastel suits and nervous smiles, all pretending they weren't here to watch two teenagers get sold for peace.
Kael stood at the altar. His dress uniform itched. The collar was too tight. Someone had pinned medals to his chest—medals for missions he'd barely survived, medals for people he'd killed, medals for things that should never be celebrated. He looked like a hero. He felt like a hostage.
"Stop fidgeting," Ren murmured from beside him. Best man. Of course.
"My collar's trying to strangle me."
"That's the least of your problems."
Kael glanced at the front row. Four thrones. Four fathers.
Father One—Kael's father, General Aldric Vey. Not related to Cassian Vey, because of course there were two Vey families and of course they hated each other. The general was sixty-three, bald, and had the warm personality of a landmine. He'd raised Kael the way you raise a guard dog: feed it, train it, point it at enemies. He'd never once said "I love you." He'd said "Good kill" twice. Kael remembered both times. This was the man whose blood ran in his veins. Sometimes Kael wondered if that made it worse.
Father Two—Ren's father, Commander Sarin Kost. Smaller man, sharper eyes. He'd been the one who'd pushed for the enhanced training protocols. The one who'd signed off on the simulations that left Ren twitching for weeks. He smiled at Ren now like a proud gardener admiring a particularly effective weed killer. Ren had his jaw. His coldness. His complete inability to look at a person and see anything but data.
Father Three—Vex's father, Minister Alix Dane. Political creature. Soft hands, softer spine. He'd traded Vex to Kael's father for a trade route and called it a marriage. Vex hadn't spoken to him in four months. He didn't seem to have noticed. She had his stubbornness. His talent for survival. None of his cowardice.
Father Four—Mira's father, Doctor Julian Cross. The only one who'd ever shown them kindness. He'd taught Mira how to control her resonance rather than suppress it. He'd held her hand through the nightmares. He'd argued against the weddings in four closed-door sessions and lost every time. He looked at Mira now like a man watching his daughter walk toward a cliff. She had his softness. His empathy. His bleeding heart.
Mira was already crying. She sat in the front row, her dress pale blue, her hands folded in her lap. She was supposed to marry Ren in two hours. After Kael and Vex sealed the ceasefire.
She caught Kael's eye across the room. Mouthed something. He couldn't read lips.
But he knew her. She'd said: You okay?
He nodded. She didn't believe him.
The music started. Some slow orchestral thing that sounded like dying swans and bad decisions. Six hundred people stood. Six hundred necks craned toward the back.
Vex appeared.
She was wearing white. Someone had probably tied her down to get her into it. The dress was all lace and long sleeves and modest neckline. Vex had ruined it in three ways.
First: the boots. Heavy combat boots beneath the hem, scuffed at the toes. She'd refused to wear heels. The stylist had cried. Vex had laughed.
Second: the knife. Strapped to her thigh. Kael could see the outline.
Third: her face. No smile. No glow. Just the same sharp, defiant expression she wore on missions. She was walking toward a firing squad and daring it to shoot first.
She was alone. Her father had offered to escort her. She'd told him to sit down and shut up. On live microphone during the rehearsal dinner. The footage had leaked. The internet had loved her.
Vex reached the altar. Stopped. Looked at Kael.
"You look constipated," she said quietly.
"You look like you're about to stab me."
"I am. Later. Different context."
The priest cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved," he began.
Kael stopped listening.
He was watching the crowd instead. Count the exits. Identify the threats. Six hundred guests meant six hundred potential assassins. The rebel son Cassian Vey was supposedly in attendance—somewhere in the back, blending in. Kael had seen his file. Twenty-two. Trained in knife work and poison.
Ren had offered to scan the crowd with his tactical precognition. Kael had refused. If Cassian was going to make a move, let him. The wedding was a farce anyway.
"—in the sight of these witnesses," the priest was saying, "do you, Kael, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
Kael blinked. He'd missed the vows.
"I do," he said.
Vex's eye twitched.
"—and do you, Vexanne, take this man—"
"Vex," she interrupted. "Just Vex."
"The name on the certificate—"
"Then change the certificate."
The priest looked at her father. Minister Dane shrugged. Vex hadn't looked at him once since she walked in.
"—do you, Vex, take this man—"
"I do."
No warmth. She didn't look at Kael. She looked at Mira.
Mira was crying harder now. Silent tears. She nodded once at Vex. A message passed between them. Kael didn't know what it meant.
"By the power vested in me," the priest said, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—"
Vex grabbed Kael by the collar and kissed him like she was trying to bite his lip off.
The crowd applauded.
Kael kissed her back. Not because he wanted to. Because her mouth was warm and her grip was iron and for just a second, neither of them was pretending.
Then she pulled away.
"Don't get used to it," she whispered.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They turned to face the crowd. Kael's hand found Vex's. Her fingers were cold. She didn't pull away.
The priest beamed. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you—Kael and Vex—"
He stumbled over the hyphenated nightmare of their last names.
"—the happy couple."
Vex snorted.
Kael smiled his dead-eyed smile.
Somewhere in the back of the cathedral, a man was watching. Kael didn't know his face. He'd know him soon enough.
---
The reception was worse.
Champagne. Speeches. A cake that cost more than most people's rent. Vex had already changed out of her wedding dress and into black pants and a jacket. The knife was still there.
She stood by the bar, nursing something clear and pretending to listen to a minor lord discuss trade agreements. Her eyes kept drifting to Mira.
Mira was across the room, surrounded by well-wishers, her pale blue dress swapped for soft grey. She was supposed to marry Ren in an hour. She looked like she was about to throw up.
Ren stood beside her like a statue. He'd already given a best man speech—three minutes of tactical analysis disguised as sentiment. The crowd had laughed nervously.
Kael made his way through the crowd. Shook hands he didn't remember. Smiled at faces he'd forget by morning.
He found Vex at the bar. Leaned against the counter beside her.
"How long until we can leave?" she asked.
"Two more speeches. The cake cutting. The first dance."
"Kill me."
"Not in the budget."
She almost smiled.
"We need to talk about the rebel situation," she said quietly. "Cassian Vey."
"Not here."
"Then where? Our honeymoon suite? Romantic."
"Vex."
"Fine. After Mira's wedding. Roof. Fifteen minutes."
She walked away. Combat boots on marble. Knife under her jacket.
Kael watched her go. His wife. His equal. Two kids traded like cattle by the men who'd given them life.
He touched the medal on his chest. The one for bravery. The one he'd earned for killing a fifteen-year-old boy holding a detonator.
The medal felt warm. His skin felt cold.
He needed air.
"Congratulations."
Kael turned. A man he didn't recognize. Mid-twenties. Easy smile. Glass of champagne in one hand.
"Thanks," Kael said. "Do I know you?"
The man shrugged. "Probably not. Minor nobility. Third cousin of someone important."
"Everyone here is a third cousin of someone important."
"Then I fit right in."
They stood there. The crowd swirled around them.
"Interesting wedding," the man said. "Very political."
"Most weddings are."
"Most weddings don't have a body count."
Kael's hand drifted toward his side. No weapon. Security protocol.
The man noticed. Smiled wider. "Relax. I'm not here to ruin the party. Just observing."
"Observing what?"
"Whether the happy couple actually survives the honeymoon."
He raised his glass. Drank. Walked away.
Kael watched him go. Then looked down at his own champagne. Half-empty. He hadn't watched it being poured.
He set it down on the bar.
Then he went to find Vex.
---
The roof was cold. Wind off the capital's spires, sharp enough to cut. Vex stood at the edge, looking down at the city. The knife twirled between her fingers.
"You're late," she said.
"Cassian Vey just bought me a drink. Or someone pretending to be him."
She turned. "What?"
"Raised his glass, said he was observing, walked away."
"And you didn't follow him?"
"And leave you alone up here? Romantic."
She scowled. "Don't use my words against me."
"It's called marriage."
"It's called I'll push you off this roof."
Kael stepped closer. Stood beside her at the edge. The city sprawled below—million lights, million ways to die.
"Mira's wedding is in forty minutes," he said. "Ren's going to stand at that altar and look at her like a piece of equipment. She's going to cry. He's not going to notice."
"And you care?"
Kael didn't answer for a long moment.
"I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe."
Vex looked at him. Really looked.
"You're not as cold as you pretend to be," she said.
"And you're not as tough as you pretend to be."
"I'm tougher."
"Want to bet?"
"You'd lose."
They stood there. Husband and wife. Strangers who knew each other's bodies better than their hearts. The wind pulled at Kael's hair. Vex's knife stopped twirling.
"We should go back inside," she said.
"In a minute."
"Mira needs me."
"Mira needs someone to tell Ren to stop being a robot. That's not you. That's no one."
Vex looked down at her boots. White dress somewhere in a heap on a bathroom floor. She'd never wear it again.
"She's going to be miserable," Vex said quietly.
"Yeah."
"And we're going to watch."
"Yeah."
"And then we're going to go home—our home, our bed—and pretend we're normal."
Kael laughed. Short. Sharp. Almost real.
"I don't even know what normal looks like," he said.
Vex reached out. Took his hand. Her fingers were cold. His were colder.
"Neither do I," she said.
They went back inside.
---
The second wedding began.
Mira walked down the aisle alone. No boots. No knife. Just a girl in grey silk, carrying flowers she'd chosen herself, walking toward a man who'd never once asked her what she wanted.
Ren stood at the altar. His fingers weren't twitching. His face was calm. He looked at Mira the way he looked at a map.
She reached him. Stopped.
The priest began.
Kael stood beside Vex in the front row. Her hand was still in his.
Mira said "I do." Her voice cracked.
Ren said "I do." His voice didn't.
The ceremony ended. The crowd applauded. Ren kissed Mira like he was checking a box. She closed her eyes and pretended.
Kael squeezed Vex's hand.
"We have a problem," he murmured.
"I know."
"Cassian Vey is armed."
"I know."
"What do you want to do about it?"
Vex looked at him. For the first time all day, she smiled.
- Writer
