Chapter 2
Some people spent their entire lives being groomed and trained for marriage. Sons and daughters were assigned at birth to a life of expectations, whether that involved marriage, the priesthood, academics or being a caretaker. Jag was never intended to be betrothed. His parents had had him late in life, long after his siblings had been promised to their mates. While his siblings had been taught the nuances of everything from the ceremony to the wedding bed to running a household, his birth order had given Jag a certain amount of autonomy. He was allowed to choose between becoming a priest or a scholar, and he had chosen to devote his life to the Goddess. He took the first orders at the age of twelve, and now was within six months of finishing his vows and becoming a priest at the Temple. But marriage put the priesthood out of his reach, and his parents were anxious and sorry. Jag was anxious too, but he didn’t know how sorry he was. A part of him refused to accept that he would be abandoning not just his dreams, but his vocation. For what? For debts. For a stranger.
Jag knocked on his door, hoping Drake would hear him. Hoping Drake would answer him. Hoping Drake would have an answer for him. Drake didn’t respond. He knocked again. Still no response.
“Drake? Please?”
A long pause before Drake’s low, gravelly voice answered, “You should be meditating.”
“I know. But…”
“Do you need something?”
“I…” The pearl seemed to grow heavier in his hand. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to lift his arm at all. “Has the ceremony started?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Drake?”
“Yes?”
“Did you see anybody come into my room today?”
“Nobody unexpected.”
“Can you please unlock the door? I’m not going to go anywhere.”
Jag released a long breath when the lock turned and the door swung open, revealing Drake’s grim, foreboding form. Even when he smiled, he looked grim. His black suit was impeccable, everything from the creases in his pants to the yellow ropes on his shoulders broadcasting his status as the household’s butler. He bore the Martin family mark on the back of his hand, a tattoo that had faded and wrinkled over the years but was still a source of pride for Drake—if for nobody else. He had been with the family since long before Jag was born, and looking at the man now brought a strange tingling to Jag’s throat. It hurt to think he’d probably never see Drake again. He certainly wouldn’t be able to rely on the older man if he had a question, and Jag didn’t doubt he would have several questions about his new life. He remembered racing through the halls, ducking and dodging between Drake’s legs while the butler tried to manage the house. Drake had the authority to send Jag to his room at any time, or punish Jag severely, but he never did. Sometimes he even gave Jag small treats and gifts—pieces of candy he never had to share with anybody else.
“Do you need something?”
Jag wondered if that was a trick question. “Have you ever seen a pearl? A real pearl, not just a picture in a book.”
Drake didn’t look surprised by the strange question. He merely shook his head. “No. I never have. They’re rare in this province, Jag. I would guess only the Vargas family has any in their possession. And they certainly wouldn’t flaunt the fact. There’s also supposed to be one in the Temple. A special gift from the Goddess, but I have never seen it.”
Jag nodded. The ring in his hand wasn’t just a token. He couldn’t believe anybody, even his betrothed, would offer such a gift. He struggled to remember every single detail his mother had told him about the ceremony, certain she never mentioned anything about rings.
“Drake, I’m not sure what to do.”
“About what?”
Jag held his hand out and opened his fingers, revealing the precious stone. It looked darker against his skin, and he had been gripping it so tightly the silver band left deep marks in his palm. Drake inhaled between pursed lips.
“Is that from Rivers?”
“I think so.”
“Nobody mentioned it would be something so dear…” He spoke under his breath. “So you were expecting this?”
“What?” Drake tore his attention away from the ring and met Jag’s curious eyes. “You don’t have to keep that.”
Jag blinked. “What?”
“You don’t have to keep it. You can send it back. Or you can sell it.”
“I can sell it? That’s…acceptable?”
“Of course it is. It’s a gift. It’s yours now. You can do whatever you want with it. I can arrange the sale for you, if you’d like.”
“Just like that? Brace won’t mind? I can just…sell it? And use the money any way I like?”
“Yes. It’s a sort of good-faith gesture. It’s perfectly acceptable to sell the gift.”
“And then I wouldn’t have to marry.”
“Yes.” Drake’s voice dropped. “But there’s a time limit. You have until the beginning of the second ceremony.”
While the first ceremony was all about sorting the business, the second ceremony involved the personal vows and declarations of fidelity and love. That part made sense to Jag, though it was about the only thing that did. A marriage involved the union of two people and two families; the terms for each partnership needed to be dealt with. Especially since it wasn’t unusual for the betrothed to be meeting the first time on their wedding night.