The sandy floor was hot to the touch, even though there was a cool wind blowing.

Magic was strange.

“You'd pass on this honorable duty?” Rivini asked from above me.

She had stood from her seat, and I could hear the confusion in her voice. She couldn't believe the sight in front of her.

Granted, the sight of me prostrating myself was something rare indeed...

It's been a very long time since I've incurred someone's wrath to such a degree that needed such a gesture.

“Rather, I am ill suited. Please choose another,” I begged, keeping myself prostrated.

“Your mother says otherwise. Your grandmother proves otherwise,” Rivini said.

For a long moment I kept my forehead on the sandy floor. When I couldn't resist it any longer and lifted my head to look at the Grandmother, most of the sand had remained stuck to my forehead. “What do you mean?” I asked.

My mother made sense. She'd sacrifice me without hesitation... but my grandmother...? She had been kind to me. At least, for as long as she had remembered me. Once she forgot who I was, and her mind broke with age, she had become cruel.

“Your grandmother was once a bride of peace. Married into our family to ensure war could be avoided... at the time. You're the best choice, if not my only choice, considering your ancestry.”

Although it was interesting to hear of my blood-line, it was also disheartening.

So this was why my mother was such a vile woman. She had been the child of such a marriage.

And why I now had to suffer.

“So I must suffer, because my grandmother did first,” I said softly.

“You must do it, because no one else can.”

I shook my head.

“You have to, Telleya. There are only five others of age, and two have children. And of the rest, you're the only one who doesn't have a history of sickness,” Rivini said.

“Too afraid to show a malnourished bride to the city?” I taunted.

“They'd know this wasn't real if we showed them such a sight. One does not give a sick and weak bride to secure a generational pact. One gives the finest they have to offer,” she said.

“Hrenda or Marli are finer,” I said, but the moment their names left my lips I felt sick.

I just tried to sacrifice two sisters.

Lowering my head again, trying to stop myself from throwing up, I found it hard to breathe for a few heavy heartbeats.

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So I really was a daughter of Derri.

How could I have said that?

May the Sands bury me.

“Marli is too young. Hrenda couldn’t survive childbirth with her body, and it shows,” Rivini said plainly, seemingly ignoring my current state.

Childbirth? She was acting as if this arrangement was actually going to last that long.

Was it to make it seem as real as possible to the onlookers, or was it pure delusion and hope on her part? There was no way this Commander of such a powerful Line was going to ever return here after this being forced upon him.

Our people weren't worth it.

“I... I can't...” I whispered.

“You can. You're bright enough to act. You're wise enough to know your place. In fact... this very moment proves it,” Rivini said, and I could hear her amusement.

My body shook a little, not just in anger but disappointment. She wasn't going to let me free myself.

I was going to be given to this man, and he would then ensure that the House of Derri returned to its former glory.

Derri would live, and I would suffer and die.

The Sands were cruel beyond reason.

“I could fail,” I said softly.

“Ha. Such threats are worthless. How could you? Anything you did to jeopardize the marriage would be known to all to be your own doing. No House would take affront to it,” she said.

Glaring at the old woman, and her amused calmness, I found myself hating her almost as much as I hated myself.

She was such a woman of Derri, with her haughty arrogance.

“Plus, you're too kind to your fellow sisters. You know that if you don't do this, or if you fail, that they'll simply take your place. You suggested Marli, correct? If you fail, even someone as young as her will be used if needed. You wouldn't allow that,” she reasoned.

With clenched teeth I had no choice but to sit there in silence as the old woman vocalized my predicament.

There was a reason she was the Elder, the Grandmother. There was a reason the House of Derri had survived this long, even in its desperate state.

She and the rest of the Elders were not stupid... at least, not when it came to controlling its people.

Unable to say anything else, or think of another way to argue, the Grandmother nodded to me. She saw that I had given up.

“Now we must prepare. He will be here shortly. Come, child. Do not shame our House,” Rivini said, standing from her seat and heading for the door.

Still on my knees, I realized my eyes were not blurry.

I wasn't crying.

Or was it that I couldn't cry?

Who would have thought that the House of Derri could take even my tears away.

The door opened, and a small wave of hot air warmed my sweat.

Rivini paused in the doorway, staring at me with an odd level of patience.

I knew she could simply order me. I knew she could force me, too.

A few words, and there'd be a man in here who would be more than happy to convince me with pain.

But if I was foolish enough to need pain to obey, I'd have been dead a long time ago.

Forcing myself up was hard, and I was unsteady. I hadn't been kneeling too long, but it felt as if I had been lying on the floor all day.

A tiny part of me wanted to argue further... to find a loophole or a way to convince her to find another... but I knew it was hopeless.

I barely had the strength to stand and walk, let alone fight and argue.

The House of Derri was going to survive... and I was now the only one to blame.

Following Rivini out of the room, we headed to wherever my fate laid. My legs hurt as I walked, but it didn't matter.

Nothing did anymore.