The Claiming's Eve celebration lasts long into the night. Rather than partaking in the festivities, I sit near the palace on a stone bench and listen to the theatrics of dancing and music bleeding through the hedges. I had to practically force Cloak to enjoy himself; he didn't wish to leave me while Rylan still strutted around, but Lyndel revealed that my husband didn't bother to stick around and disappeared on the road that leads to the capital.

Still, Cloak tasked the fladline with standing at my shoulder for the remainder of the night. Either the white raven pendant looping around my neck doesn't hold as much protection as originally thought, or Cloak really doesn't trust Rylan not to obey to the claiming ceremony. I would've enjoyed sitting in the silence with Lyndel at my shoulder, staring out at the distant celebration, if it wasn't for a couple sneaking away to make love against a tree.

Distant moans and sharp breaths usher me inside the palace, followed by a claim that I'm tired and wish to sleep. Lyndel is already antsy to get back to his prince so as soon as I'm within the same confines of the palace, he skitters away without another word and, like Rylan, disappears into the dark. Instead of heading to my lonely room, I ease myself into Gustus's silent chambers. Theo is already there, sprawled across the bed and reading a book. He hardly pays me any heed, other than a side glance, before I disappear into the bathing chamber and peel off the complicated layers of my pink gown.

A knock sounds on the door a moment later and I roll my eyes, but it's only Theo handing me a pair of cinch-waist pants and a comfortable, long-sleeved shirt that hugs my throat and tightens at the wrists.

I scrub myself clean from head to toe and wash the cosmetics from my face, removing the golden pins from my hair. I run my fingers through the knotted trusses and clean deep, removing all hints and scents of celebration. When I'm done, soaking wet and sparkly clean, I ease my back against the tub and dull the ache in my skull by shifting into my Luminary form.

My eyes close, but something distracts me from sleep. Something...heavy. My heart beats directly underneath the pendant and I finally realize in the silence that I can examine it. The white wings spread wide, the raven shifting to the side as if to land. Running my thumb over the rough ridges and bumps, I trace the flower edging and sharp beak of the raven. Already, the symbol feels like part of me.

Like the raven belongs against my heart.

I remain in the tub until the water turns chilled and I have no other option than to remove myself. When I emerge wearing clean clothes and an even cleaner face, I find Theo is no longer the only resident in Gustus's chambers. The prince himself sits at the head of the table, Chaska at his shoulder. They both force tired smiles as it's the middle of the night and no one has received time to sleep. The celebration continues on, likely with the rest of the royal family at its center.

"We brought you food," Gustus chides blearily. He slides a full plate to the empty chair next to Theo. I don't realize how hungry I am after vomiting into the bucket until I see that gorgeous plate of food from the celebration itself.

Cloak held back my hair and said he had noticed my face turning slightly green when he put the pendant around my neck. Knowing he only had minutes to spare, he removed me from the celebration as quickly as he could until I came to the realization that my stomach was not in good spirits.

I didn't see him much after that. His mother expects him to take part in the celebration, as well as introduce himself to a possible suitor. Something about that doesn't sit right with me. If the queen herself doesn't have to wed to support the land, why should he? Like Gustus, Cloak should receive the chance to make his own decisions about who he weds.

I bite back a moan at the first taste of seared duck on my plate. "I haven't eaten all day," I say around a bite of food in my cheek. Smothering the meat and potatoes in a rich gravy, I gather a hearty helping onto my fork and attempt to unhinge my jaw to fit everything in at once. Needless to say, it doesn't work and most of my helping splatters back onto the plate—landing directly in the peas and carrots.

My stomach aches, practically begging for more, and I scoop the buttered vegetables into my mouth, relishing in the burst of savory flavor. On my next bite, I catch a glint of silence out of the corner of my eye. Freezing the fork halfway to my mouth, I stop and find that no one else is eating their meals. Instead, they're staring directly at me. Rather, the twin bite marks in my neck.

Suddenly overcome with embarrassment, I tug on the collar of my shirt and attempt to bury my neck deep underneath the warm fabric. "Do you have any scarves?" I question.

A sheen of distraction blankets Gustus's stare. He rubs mindlessly at the back of his neck. "He was angrier than I thought he would be." Gathering his wits, he blinks away a mental fog. "I didn't expect him to attempt rushing the stage, yet I guess Rylan acts on unpredictability."

Theo takes the reins. "You must be careful when you're home. Even with that pendant, Rylan still feels he has something over you."

"Either that, or he didn't wish to see his wife on stage—claimed by the prince she's supposedly healing," I grumble.

Chaska watches the three of us silently, afraid to speak out of turn. Like me, she wishes to hide the wounds in her neck by placing her hand over the marks that'll heal within days. I can't place why Aela picked her, but I know it had something to do with getting at me. The claiming doesn't bother me, it's the thought of Chaska spending the night with a stranger without my protection.

I would much rather her sit here, at Gustus's dining table, and learn when the right moment to speak is. Part of learning about palace customs included realizing that Gustus doesn't have these rules, Chaska can speak whenever she wishes, but I'll let her figure that out. Anything other than dancing the night away or going one step further.

"I mean, how do you think that looks?" I go on, stabbing my fork into another bite of duck. The oils and juices squirt onto the plate, pooling at the rim and seeping into the potatoes. "I spend two weeks out of every month in the palace, directly tending to Cloak. He has every right to be suspicious." After a moment, I add, "I won't be surprised if he hates me for this."

Theo tips his head back hard enough that it makes contact with the chair's headrest. Frowning at his husband's lack of care towards his skull, Gustus frowns deeply. "If you can't stop making excuses for his behavior, then I will throw you out of this room," Theo threatens. "If he hates you, so what?"

My eyes dart to Chaska's. Both princes are unaware of the truth, yet they are. At least one of them must have concluded that I'm not insane for staying in a loveless marriage. I must receive a benefit from it, like Castiel's potions, but they do not recognize or acknowledge the truth. Tonight, on Claiming's Eve, I don't have the strength to dive farther into that part of my life. Another day.

"If he hates me, then I have someone that likely wishes me dead. That isn't the best thing to have on one's mind," I opt instead of revealing what I truly wish to say.

"There are worse things in the world than someone hating you—or wishing you dead. Perhaps those are the people that need to be dealt with." Theo squirms in his seat, practically dancing at the opportunity to end Rylan's life.

"You and Cloak are more alike than you believe."

"We served in protecting borders together, I suppose some of our frustrations rubbed off on each other." He examines his nails, and I stab into another bite of duck. "There is plenty you don't know about either of us, Marie."

As if I haven't already considered that fact.

Taking that as my cue to complete the night, I push my plate away. Any farther into this argument and I might start ripping out my hair from frustration. "I promise I will always keep an eye out over my shoulder, and an ear. Until then, I'm exhausted and I wish to sleep," I say, adding in a sigh for good measure.

No one protests. "I'll go with her," Chaska offers. That appears to apply some relief to Gustus's tensed jaw.

My feet drag down the empty corridors only patrolled by guards to ensure no guests of the celebration have wandered too far away from the commotion. The amazement of most rooms in the palace has long since withered away, and the wonderment of staring out the windows to admire the courtyard doesn't hold the same effect as it used to. Not for me.

For Chaska, who has never stepped foot in the royal palace, everything is polished new and unseen. She stops at everything, gasps at vases shoved in corners and giggles at portraits of previous leaders. On multiple occasions, she stops to admire the view as we travel higher up staircases, turning the courtyard into a below level spectacle. The light streaming above the people, like a golden ribcage encasing their dancing and frolicking, won't flicker out until the sun rises. I tire just thinking about it.

My room isn't Chaska's favorite of the palace, but after living in Gudgeon Docks, she plops down into my desk chair without a single complaint and shuffles through the many notes I've taken on Cloak since first arriving. My strength gives out and I collapse onto the cot, not bothering to kick the slippers off my feet before curling into a tight, exhausted ball.

As soon as my head hits the pillow, I can't keep my eyes from fluttering closed. The last thing I see is Chaska smiling down at me, rubbing her hand over my forehead. She reaches over, tugging the blanket across my body, and folds the warm and soft fabric tight against my chin. This shitty cot has never been more comfortable.

Drifting off to sleep has never been this easy. Through it all, clutching tight underneath the blanket, I keep my hand wrapped around the raven pendant. I want to believe this holds more meaning than a symbol, but few in Rivian receive lifetime protection from someone of the royal family and I must learn to use that fact wisely.