“I’m open to anything,” I assured him.
He hesitated a moment and gave a decisive nod. Then, to my complete and utter astonishment, he got down on his knees before me and clasped my hands in his. “Sydney Katherine Sage,” he said, his green eyes full of love and earnestness. “Would you do a brooding, deadbeat Moroi the honor of being his wife?”
CHAPTER 20
ADRIAN
I EXPECTED A LOT OF different reactions to my proposal. Crying wasn’t one of them.
“Okay,” I said cautiously. “Probably this would’ve been better with a ring, right?”
She shook her head, furiously wiping tears from her eyes. “No, no . . . it was great. I mean, I just don’t know. I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
I knew what was wrong. She’d been locked away for four months, most of which had been in the dark, subjected to psychological and physiological torture, and told everything she believed was wrong and twisted—that she was wrong and twisted. Add to that the stress of the escape—multiple escapes—we’d just gone through, and it was no wonder she was breaking down. Even the strongest person would have a hard time recovering. She needed a break, time to heal mentally and physically, and those goddamned Alchemists wouldn’t give it to her.
“Okay, go ahead,” she said, a few moments later. I could see her toughening up, working hard to put all those emotions away because she thought that’s what it meant to be strong. I wanted to tell her that strength wasn’t about hiding your feelings, that it was okay for her to feel this way after what she’d been through. “Explain to me how me being a nineteen-year-old bride will solve our problems.”
I stayed on my knees. “I know it wasn’t part of your plan,” I said. “Not yet, at least. I know, ideally, you’d be going to college right now, with marriage down the road.”
She nodded. “You’re right. And it’s not for lack of love for you, believe me. I can’t even imagine marrying anyone else. But we’re still so young. . . .”
“I know.” I squeezed her hands more tightly. “Here’s my thinking, though. It came to me when you said you knew the Moroi would protect me as one of their own. If we get married, if you’re my wife, then the Moroi will have to protect you too.”
Sydney’s earlier words had reminded me of something that Lissa had said, back when I’d asked her to help Sydney: If one of my own people were in danger from them, then yes, I’d have every right to throw my weight around with the Alchemists. I had no doubt I’d be safe if I went running back to Court. Lissa would protect me, even if I wasn’t a good friend. Sydney was right that she could expect no such guarantees, and even the hotel manager had insinuated as much. But if she was Mrs. Ivashkov . . .
Sydney’s brow furrowed. “You’re thinking like how a person gets citizenship when they marry someone from a different country. I don’t think it works that way with the Moroi and the humans. I don’t automatically become a Moroi by marrying you. Your people aren’t going to accept me as one of their own. Your people are going to freak out.”
“True,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll let my wife be punished. We go to Court, and we’re golden.” She didn’t answer right away, and that silence unnerved me. I began to worry and find other problems, ones that had nothing to do with my plan’s questionable logic. “But if you’re not sure about us . . .”
She focused back in on me. “Oh, Adrian, no. That’s not it at all. I mean, it’s like I said. I never expected to get married so young, but I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone but you. I figured it would happen someday. This is just kind of a shock. And think also about what our life would be like. If we’re getting sanctuary with the Moroi, does that mean we have to stay at Court forever? Will I ever get to see my family again?”
That caught me off guard. The biggest complications I’d foreseen would’ve been reactions from my family—and others, say, like Nina. There would be problems there, yes, but what Sydney and I faced now was too important. I was prepared to deal with whatever fallout my people might present, but I honestly hadn’t thought far enough to consider Sydney’s side of it. I didn’t have easy answers for that but responded confidently, as though I did: “It’ll be short-term. I mean, I don’t know how long ‘short-term’ is, but eventually, this’ll pass, and we’ll be free to go wherever we want and see whomever we want.”
Her wry expression told me she was skeptical. “How do you know that?”
“Because I just do. And I believe no matter what conditions we’re in, we’ll be okay as long as we’re together.”
“Okay,” she said after a little more deliberation. “One more thing. Putting aside the whole issue of getting sanctuary with the Moroi, do you think we’re strong enough for it? Marriage isn’t just a piece of paper.”
I got up and sat next to her. “I know it isn’t,” I said. “And I know it would be hard—for all sorts of reasons. But I think we can handle whatever comes our way, so long as we keep loving each other like this.” I thought of my parents and their sham marriage. That seemed like more of a joke than anything hasty Sydney and I might do.
“How do you propose we pull it off then?” she asked. “I’m sure this hotel has a wedding chapel, but there’s no way we could do it here.”