Chapter 9: Property of

Lord Tristram Verrin waited in the kitchen with the gown laid across his arms.

He had rain on his shoulders and an apology ready.

"I know it's late," he said. "The Regent wanted this to reach you tonight. She chose it herself."

I took it.

It was red velvet, heavy and soft, with fine dark chains sewn over the sleeves.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever held.

Lorcan stood behind me with his shirt buttoned wrong.

Nobody mentioned it.

"It's very kind," I said.

"There's a festival register too." Tristram drew a flat leather folder from his coat.

"Every hearth-bound pair has to be entered before the first night," he said. "I brought yours, so you wouldn't have to queue at the Chancellery."

He opened it on the table.

"Sign here, Miss Harlowe, as the wife."

The page was ruled in black ink.

At the top was the royal crest, a shell and a trident.

Under it, in a clerk's neat hand, was an entry with my name.

I read it once, and then again.

Morwenna Harlowe. Human, tidefall. Pet.

Property of Lorcan Brae.

Dated the day of the fair.

I put my finger on the word.

"What does this say?"

Tristram said gently, "It's the standard form. I'm sure he meant nothing by it."

"Meant nothing by what?"

I turned.

Lorcan had gone grey.

Every shade of colour left him, and his sleeves, which he had buttoned wrong, stirred on their own.

"Morwenna," he said. "Let me explain."

Keep reading free with an account. Start After Transmigrating, My Husband Is an Octopus from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.