Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (animal farm read .TXT) 📗

family. Part of the reason I'd chosen him over the six other options was because I thought he was a normal guy. Someone who could appreciate my family and my home, without being endlessly pulled away. It wasn’t the only reason, though. I’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. Those hopes are dashed upon the rocks of reality, and the sun hasn’t risen on the second day of our marriage yet. How could I not know he was lying to me?

“Oh, God. If the lawmakers succeed in changing our government to a monarchy, everyone says your father would be made king.” I grab the end of my veil and worry the bottom hem nervously. “That would make you a prince, right? Next in line to rule the entire freaking continent? Oh, God, Patrick! I’m not cut out to be a queen, you know that, right? Surely you knew that when you let me choose you. Why would you do that?” I meet his gaze anxiously, only to find him infuriatingly silent. “Would you say something? You can’t drop this all on me and let me drown in it!”

“I’m sorry, it seemed like you needed a minute to process. The monarchy situation has come up many times over the years and been shot down each time. There are plenty of people who have encouraged me to follow in my father’s footsteps, but I have no political inclinations. I wouldn’t have gotten a new name and hired on to be an NLC guard if I wanted to go into politics.” His expression is intense, and regret is plain in the way he’s staring at me, eyebrows down and lips pursed.

Well, when you put it like that, it does sound absurd. I let out a shaky breath. Maybe it isn’t quite that level of catastrophe. More of a normal, lying-son-of-a-gun level catastrophe. Okay, I can handle that.

“What happens if I refuse to sign?” I force my voice to stay flat, controlled. The roller coaster of emotions in my chest will have to wait until later. “I don’t exactly appreciate marrying someone who’s lied to me from the moment we met.”

His face clouds, but he answers, “I don’t know. I’m not sure it makes a difference at this point. We’ve already had the ceremony, and there are quite a few witnesses that you willingly married me. Refusal to sign the document now probably wouldn’t go over well with the director . . . and frankly, we still haven’t figured out what they did with Josephine. I don’t want to know what they’d do to you.”

I feel like I’m picking up on an undercurrent of something in his words, whether pain or anger I can’t quite tell. Regardless, he brought this on himself. I trusted him, and he was lying to me. He’s not wrong about Josephine, though. She caused a scene in a gathering, and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. We’d chosen our honeymoon location primarily to check up on a lead we’d gotten that she’d been moved there. I angrily stalk over to the desk, pick up a pen, and sign my name. The letters are shorter and more jagged than usual, but I don’t think anyone cares.

Slapping the pen back to the desk, I level him with an angry look, to cover the pain. “Don’t think you’re off the hook for this. I understand why you want to be your own person and live a normal life; that doesn’t mean I forgive you for choosing to marry me under false pretenses.” I pause, looking down at the floor, and notice that the tulle of my gorgeous wedding gown looks less magical in the harsh office lighting than when I put it on a few hours ago, and was still full of hope and butterflies. “I don’t believe in divorce, Patrick. I really meant to make it work with you, and I don’t know how to feel about you right this minute. But, I also have an obligation to see this through, whether I like it or not. And my brother and Faith are out there on that shuttle, waiting for a pair of happy newlyweds to accompany them on our honeymoon. We are going to tell them about this, but I don’t think now is the time.” The irony of that is not lost on me, but no harm will come to them if I sleep on this news for a night, rather than ruin their wedding night.

He gives me a single, sharp nod. “Are you ready to go? Or do you have more questions?”

To his credit, he has taken my anger well. Not that he shouldn’t—it’s justified. But that doesn’t matter to all men.

“Yes, we shouldn’t keep them waiting; it’s a long drive to Mairmont.”

“Okay then, let’s get going.” He walks to the door and holds it open for me, still a gentleman. As we walk down the hallway, there is no sign of the director or anyone else other than the sounds of merriment still coming from the dining hall. What I wouldn’t give to go back to the blissful ignorance I’d had barely an hour ago, sitting and enjoying my wedding dinner. Turns out the deal I made was with a devil, and unknowingly or not—there’s no going back.

✽✽✽

Turns out, the shuttle was only to take us to the local airport. Todd the ever-pleasant shuttle driver handed us over to Deon, the pilot, and then turned right around, presumably to await more brides at the NLC.

The four of us were quickly guided aboard by a smiling male flight attendant after the quick meet and greet with Deon. He offered us all drinks before urging us to strap in. The flat screen at the front of the plane informed us that we were on a 1670 super-jet, and our arrival time in Mairmont was estimated to be an hour and a half.

“I’ve never been on an airplane before,” I say to no one in particular, nerves