Rachel Aaron: Spirit's Oath

She was on the verge of giving in and asking Tima what she thought was going on when Martin stood, tapping his spoon against his crystal glass. When the room fell silent, he smiled out at the crowd. “Thank you all for coming,” he said. “I called this party in part to celebrate my company’s new alliance with the Council of Thrones to provide construction services for its new forts along the coast, but tonight I wish to make an announcement of a more personal nature.”

He glanced at Lord Lyonette, and Miranda’s father stood with a smug smile that sent Miranda’s stomach straight through the floor.

“With Lord Simon Lyonette’s blessings,” Martin continued, “I am hereby pleased to announce my engagement to his second daughter, the lady Miranda Lyonette.”

The room broke into polite applause. Miranda heard none of it. All she could hear was the thundering of her heart in her ears as the rage washed through her. She grabbed her chair and shot up, ready to scream at the top of her lungs that there would be a marriage over her dead body, only to find she couldn’t move. Her mother and Tima were holding her down. Her mother’s face was furious, but Miranda couldn’t have cared less. It was Tima’s look that stopped her. Her elder sister’s face was stricken, and she gave her head a tiny shake when her eyes met Miranda’s. Miranda might not have cared about embarrassing her family in front of everyone—they deserved no less after this stunt—but Tima was another matter. Angry as she was, Miranda respected her older sister, and so she bit her lip and forced herself to stay silent. When the rest of the room stood up to go congratulate their host, Miranda stood as well and, flanked by her mother and elder sister, quietly walked out of the hall.

It was a testament to the love and respect she had for her sister that Miranda made it all the way back to their rooms before exploding.

“What was that?” she roared, turning on her mother.

Alma Lyonette blinked innocently. “I’d have thought you’d be happy, dearest. It is an excellent match. Martin Hapter might be low born, but he’s very rich, and it’s not like you had any other offers waiting.”

“And you never thought to ask me?” Miranda cried, stepping up until she was right in her mother’s face.

“Of course not,” Alma said, all innocence gone. “You’ve proven time and time again that you care nothing for the standing of your family or the proprieties of society. If I left the matter in your hands, you’d die an old maid. You should be on your knees thanking your father for finding someone willing to take you.”

“This was why you dragged me out of the Court?” Miranda said. “To marry me off?” She stopped and thought for a moment, gritting her teeth as the pieces clicked into place. The new house, her mother’s sudden willingness to associate with someone who wasn’t from a noble family, her father’s unexpected appearance. It was just the sort of nicely tied-up little deal that her mother excelled at, and Miranda couldn’t keep the growl out of her voice as she met her mother’s eyes. “How much is he paying you?”

“More than you’re worth,” her mother growled back. “The world is changing. These last few years have been very hard on your father. The Council’s expansion hasn’t been as good to the Zarin nobility as it has to opportunists like Mr. Hapter. But Hapter’s still low born; he needs a noble to get in to the kind of society he thinks he’s fit to run with.”

“And I’m his ticket in?” Miranda said. “You sold your own daughter for what? A big house?”

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way, young lady,” Alma snapped. “I have to think of the family. Think of your sister. Unlike you, Alyssa is ready and willing to make a good match. The Merchant Prince’s nephew is her age, and with the sort of money Hapter can throw around, even the main Whitefall family isn’t out of reach. I’ve let you run wild for years, and now I’m asking you for one sacrifice to make all our lives better.”

“You sold me like a horse!” Miranda screamed.

“You should be happy we could sell you at all!” Alma screamed back.

Things might have gone very badly then had Tima not pushed herself between them. “Mother,” she said softly. “Enough. Let me talk to her.”

Alma closed her eyes. “Yes, Trintima, you talk some sense into this ungrateful girl.” She took a deep breath and turned to the door, but as her white-gloved hand closed on the handle, she glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare ruin this for us, Miranda. You’ve ruined enough, and I will not see this family suffer for your indulgences any longer.”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Miranda shouted, but Tima held her firmly as their mother left, shutting the door behind her with a slam that rocked the paintings. When she was gone, Miranda slumped against her sister. Tima helped her to the padded chair by the window, and then sat on the footstool beside her, taking Miranda’s hand between her own soft, delicate fingers.

“You knew,” Miranda said. It wasn’t a question.

“I did,” Tima confessed. “But Miranda, it really is for the best. They handled it terribly, I’ll admit, but Father really is in a bind. You have to understand it from his point of view. The Lyonette family has been one of the richest in Zarin for years, but then the Council came and the bar for who was rich got higher and higher. There were appearances to keep up, and Father’s money couldn’t support them. He’s deeply in debt to Mr. Hapter.”

“And I’m his way out,” Miranda said, grabbing the arm of the chair so tightly it creaked.

“If Father goes bankrupt, it will ruin Alyssa’s chances at a good marriage,” Tima said, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. “We don’t always get to choose our fortunes, Miranda, and honestly, it’s not a bad match. You’ve never cared for noble birth anyway, and with Hapter’s money, you’ll be the richest of all of us. He’s very progressively minded; he doesn’t even care that you were a Spiritualist.”

“Am,” Miranda said, sitting forward so fast that Tima jumped. “I am a Spiritualist. I took an oath, Tima. An oath I will never, ever foreswear.” She thrust out her hand, and the rings on her fingers glowed like lanterns in the dark room. “I’m already bound. Bound to my spirits and bound to the Court, and I will never, ever give up those ties, not for Mother, not for Father, and certainly not for Alyssa.”

Tima dropped her head to kiss her sister’s hand. “I know you’re angry,” she said. “But it will be better for everyone if you just accept it. What Father did is within his rights. The law is on his side, Miranda. If you throw a fit, it will only make things worse.”

Miranda slumped into the chair. Hating the rest of her family came easily, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate Tima. Even so, she couldn’t do as her sister asked, either.

“I’m not marrying Martin Hapter,” she said, standing up. “Father might have the law on his side, but Hapter’s not stupid. He doesn’t want a bride he’ll have to drag into marriage. I’ll just go tell him it’s not happening.”

“Miranda,” Tima said, but Miranda was already marching out of the room. Everyone else was still in the dining room downstairs. Lots of people tried to congratulate Miranda when she came in, but Miranda just pushed by them, her eyes on the man at the crowd’s center. Usually, moving through such a press would be difficult, but these were nobles, and they weren’t used to being shoved aside, so she made it to the front without much trouble. Her father gave her a killing look as she approached. Miranda ignored it, pushing her way forward until she was standing at Martin’s side.