Fragmented by Madeline Dyer

Author:Madeline Dyer [Dyer, Madeline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ineja Press

I don’t know what’s happening. But I’m being led away, a few minutes later. By Jed. My hand is in his. And I’ve got a ring on, but don’t remember it being slid on my finger. Don’t remember much… Not since I fainted.

The shock of it, that’s what someone said. That’s why I fainted.

Jed’s hand shakes.

But mine shakes more.

I try to turn, to search for Corin. But there are too many people. Too many faces swarm around me. And they’re shouting. Everyone’s shouting something.

Jed squeezes my hand, and my fingers crush up around the ring. Brief pain. I look up to see him grinning down at me. He has a cut under his left eye, and the skin over his collarbone has been broken in several places. I wonder whether Clare threw that knife in the end—and wish she had—then look away, feel my face burn.

I don’t know if Corin is still alive.

Your marriage will take place at the next full moon.

I can’t remember who said the words. Manning probably. But they’re echoing over and over in my mind. Can’t get them out of my head. They’re torturing me, spinning round and round, tormenting me.

Your marriage will take place at the next full moon.

“Come to our room, S’ven.” Jed’s voice is low, and his breath pushes against the side of my face like an insistent mosquito. “Come on, wife.”

Wife-to-be. I want to correct him. But I can’t. I can’t do anything. My body won’t work properly, won’t obey me. And it all happened so quickly. I shake my head. It can’t be real. Not yet.

Jed Zalinsky. The name feels strange, and part of me wonders if I’ll have to become Seven Zalinsky. My mother kept her name—and my father became a Sarr when they married—but something makes me think that Jed won’t be taking mine.

A group of men pass us, shouting rowdy, rude remarks. Jed pushes forward, not saying anything. The bottom of my dress snags on something, but I can’t stop to unfix it; the fabric tears.

“This is it here,” Jed says a few moments later, but I know it is. He took me here before. His room.

Jed reaches out and holds the heavy drape back—I now notice it’s got a dark tartan pattern to it, unusual—and gestures for me to go first.

But my feet are too heavy.

“It is okay,” he whispers, “it is only me.”

I don’t know how those words are supposed to be comforting.

Jed takes my hand in his, leads me in carefully, as though I am fragile and might break at any moment. I don’t know why that annoys me so much, when that’s exactly how I feel.

Jed lets the drape fall back behind us, plummeting us into pitch black. I look around; try to remember where everything is. There’s a bed somewhere behind me, a table to my left? Or was it over there? I press my hands together for comfort, but all I can feel is the ring.

“It is all right.” Jed’s voice is too close.

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