The lace was beautiful, the way it draped over my long-sleeved dress like a promise. Its fine threads and tiny diamonds catching the dim light. It made me look like a true bride, even when the Trial might lead to my death. But if I were to go, then this would be the right dress to die in. At least there's that.
"You look beautiful, Rosie," Rayna said from behind me, her gray eyes catching mine in the mirror. "Now let me see that hand."
I pursed my lips as she studied the ring on my finger, a blood-red diamond set in an ancient gold band. It looked like power, made visible. And I love it.
"My brother did well," she murmured, almost to herself. "This used to belong to our mother."
"What?"
"He didn't tell you, did he?" she asked, her gaze lingering on my hand, a faint smile tugging at her lips like it was some private memory. "We lost her shortly after I was born. She was known to despise my father, but I always believed that she loved him, and us, in her very own twisted way."
