Chapter 22: The Vote

The Council sat on the steps of the great hall at sunrise, in front of every pack in Highmark.

Eight lords in grey stood in a row, and the ninth chair at the center was empty.

The tiers below were packed to the doors.

I walked out beside Thane in a plain green gown, with my hair bound up and my shoulder bare.

I had chosen to leave it bare.

The mark sat on my skin in the sun, a half-circle of small red crescents.

A pale gold shine lay in the middle of it.

A murmur went through the crowd.

The senior lord came down a step and looked at it.

He took his time.

"A mark," he said. "Fresh as last night's."

"Yes," I said.

"The lady was unmarked at yesterday's sitting. She asked the Council for time."

He raised his voice.

"Now she appears with a bite, on the very morning of the vote."

He turned to the tiers.

"Packs of Highmark, does that look like a mate's choice? Or like a king who couldn't stand to lose a chair?"

Laughter rippled in the back, uneasy and low.

"Lady Marrow," the senior lord said, smiling. "Tell the Moot. Did the King force it?"

"No."

"Did he buy it with a promise?"

"No."

"Then who asked?"

"I did," I said.

I said it loud enough for the tiers to hear.

"Last night, by the fire in his rooms, I told him I wanted it. I begged him."

I looked straight at the Council.

"He had made me wait, and I made him say yes."

The laughter died.

"A refused wife begs a king, and the Council is meant to believe it," the senior lord said softly.

"The Council was meant to believe he'd mark me as a cure," I said. "He told you no to your face."

His smile slipped.

"The Council will vote," he said sharply. "Lord by lord."

He pointed at Thane.

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