All things considered, Autumn didn’t mind living in a land bordering the kingdom of a Dark Wizard King, for the same reason she didn’t mind that the sky was blue or that the sun set at night. She had never known any different, and frankly could not imagine a world where this was not the case. The monster had been around for a thousand years, after all. Everyone in Esternia knew what to expect by now. War, followed by anger, and then the offering of a bride… all of that had simply become, in time, an inevitability hardly worth remarking upon. It was just how things were.

However, there were still limits. Just because Autumn could tolerate the existence of this dreadful neighbour didn’t mean that she wanted to be married to the man. Or eaten, or used in a dark magic ritual, or whatever it was that he did with the women sent to him.

“You must see this as a betrayal,” said her mother as she fussed uselessly with the fastening of her cloak. She kept opening and closing the brooch at her daughter’s throat as if the exact fold of the woollen cloth could change anything about what would happen next.

It was a nice brooch, as such things went. Round and made of brass, it was engraved with the image of a fox curled around its own tail, with two small inset rubies for eyes. Her sister Spring had given it to her for her birthday some years back, and now she wished that her mother would stop touching it. The only reason she was even wearing her cloak was because the summer had been cold, and that was because — well, because the wizard was angry. The one that she was due to marry.

Their group was assembled at the edge of the woods, shivering in the wind. All of her belongings had been packed, most of it discarded. She wouldn’t need much where she was going. In a few minutes, one of the servants of the king would appear and take her into the dark recesses of the trees. From there on they would allegedly make their way to the Wizard King’s castle, and then supposedly she would get to meet him. Or the creature would quickly and quietly slice her throat a few miles into the woods and bring her heart up for his master to eat. There was no way to know, really. No maiden had ever entered the forest and then returned.

“Of course not,” she deadpanned. “All the little girls dream of being sacrificed to the Evil Wizard King.”

“All the smart little girls know that it’s a possibility, at least, instead of daydreaming about algebra.”

“Geometry,” she muttered. “I daydream about geometry and I make beautiful sewing patterns.”

“Yes,” sighed the queen, suddenly deflating. “And we could have found you a nice husband just on the strength of that skill. But I’ve not chosen you for the Wizard King for your sewing patterns, child. And I’ve not chosen you because you’re an obedient, demure little thing. I’ve chosen you because you’re a handful.”

“Splendid. Thank you, Mother.”

Far away, she could hear the faint rustle of hooves and a carriage’s wheels. There was no road here, not even a path. Thorny bushes were packed so tight on the edge of the woods that even a fox could not possibly find a gap to slip through. But Autumn had heard that the trees of the cursed forest could move, and that once one of the king’s creatures approached, branches and trunks would simply spring apart to let them pass. It might have been an interesting sight to see on any other day, if it had not meant the prelude for her death. The queen grabbed her cloak tighter and spoke with urgency.

“No, listen to me, my daughter. You are the most willful woman I’ve ever met. We hired a bard for your birthday, and you bit him.”

“He knows what he did,” she hissed, wondering where her mother was going with this.

“We taught you embroidery, and you used the needles to stab the scullery maid.”

“She was an assassin sent to kill you!”

“We showed you poetry, and you turned to mathematics instead.”

“I studied both!,” she felt compelled to point out. She knew what the poetry was for, it wasn’t as if she’d just ignored it altogether.

“What I mean,” continued her mother, “is that you have never listened to anyone in your life and you will not listen to the Wizard King now.”

Autumn felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. “You want me to die faster? Is that what you want? I thought the whole point — ostensibly — was for me to cajole him into a marriage.”

“You will die regardless,” retorted her mother, brutal as she’d always been. “Whether you secure the marriage or not, whether now or in ten years. That butcher has killed my husband, and he will kill my daughter. It cannot be avoided, and I won’t feed you some hogwash about how your sacrifice will spare your people a worse fate. You already know all of that. What I am telling you now, instead, is that when your death is inevitable, you don’t have to go easy. Give him hell. And secure the marriage before he kills you, if you can.”

The rustling grew louder.

“Understand that your father failed, ten years ago. I am under significant pressure from the other kingdoms to make up for that failure in any way possible. But if I am going to send anyone into a rat’s nest, then I will send a viper. Remember what I told you before. Do not give in to him.”

Autumn nodded. Her mother was referring to the only other discussion that they’d had on the subject of her sacrifice to the Wizard King after it had been announced. The old woman had slipped into her bedroom after dusk to whisper urgently at her, as if the only real conversation she could have with her daughter had to be hidden in the dead of night, away from prying ears.

“Do not let him touch you until your wedding night,” had been the brunt of her advice.

“Are we really still pretending that a marriage is going to happen?” she’d spat, bruised and tired already at the thought of two months of trials and the reward of a certain death.

“You are about to enter a land where magic is real, and it has rules,” had cautioned her mother. “And one of the core rules of magic is that it works with what you give it. We are not pretending to the universe that a wedding will happen. We are telling it so.”

“I'm sure. And as with any proper wedding, I have to go into it a proper maiden.”

“You have not been a proper maiden since you were of age,” had scorned her mother, and Autumn had felt her cheeks burn. The queen hadn’t been meant to know about the cook’s son. Or the viscount’s cousin. Or the knight(s).

“We are far past questions of propriety,” she had continued. “This is a matter of magic. Consumption is a powerful act. Once you partake of his land, you will belong to it. There is nothing that can be done about this. You will be there for two months, and you have to feed yourself. But once you partake of him, you will belong to him, too. And you cannot allow that to happen before you’ve secured the wedding.”

“As you say. And the reason is…?”

“The reason is that the matter involves a contract; and a contract signed on lands where the magic is alive and words become reality…” she had trailed off and raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

“… It will make his word unbreakable,” Autumn had breathed in realization. “You want me to make him swear us protection, out loud and on paper, during a sacred ceremony. While standing in a castle made out of magic. Well! That is certainly an idea.”

“Yes. And then I want you to conclude with the oldest, most powerful ritual at your disposal. I am not asking as your mother; I am ordering as your queen. You are to lure the Wizard King into a vow and to put the seal of your own body on it. Can you do it?”

“I don’t know,” she had told her mother honestly, mind reeling. “None of the other girls ever managed. But I can try.”

The fact that she might not even get the opportunity to try, or be given a choice in the matter, had been such a clear evidence that neither of them had felt the need to point it out.

Her sisters had a different idea about things. The day after she had promised her mother that she wouldn’t spread her legs for the Wizard King until he’d wedded her in front of her whole family and kingdom, Summer and Winter had cornered her in the music room.

“You have to bed him as soon as you can,” had been their piece of advice.

It was a matter of magic, they had claimed, because all everyone ever wanted to talk about was magic. That, or sex. To be entirely honest, Autumn didn’t know if the king was even beddable in the first place. He had been alive for a thousand years! Perhaps he wasn’t human anymore, by now. Or he was really old.

In any case, Summer and Winter’s argument had been that if the Evil Wizard King wished to stake a claim on her, then she could not possibly stop him. She could, however, thwart him by staking a claim first. It would be a petty victory, but a victory nonetheless. Autumn had to admit that she liked the idea. It could even be funny, under the right circumstances, almost like biting a cat that was about to bite you and then watching it try to process what had just happened. She would have agreed with her sisters and gone ahead with that plan, if it hadn’t been for the promise that she had just made her mother.

Still, it was an option to keep in mind, should the need arise. Autumn liked having options. ‘Don’t die’ was an obvious one. ‘Stay a maiden’ might or might not be feasible. ‘Mount the guy on his own evil wizard throne to make a point’ was terribly unsubtle, but at least she was reasonably sure that he wouldn’t see it coming.

As she stood on the edge of the forest waiting for the promised carriage to appear, Autumn reflected that this was likely not in any way, shape, or form what her mother had meant when she had said, ‘give the Dark King a hard time’. She tried not to laugh. Not only would it be inappropriate, but the sudden hysteria would no doubt unsettle her family even more than they already were. Still, it was difficult to contain herself. There was so much pent-up energy inside of her that she was starting to feel feverish. Only her sisters’ grip on her hands — Summer on one side, Winter on the other — prevented her from pacing. Not out of nerves, mind; Autumn was neither anxious nor afraid. What she was, was impatient. She had never been very good at waiting, and she was champing at the bit to be in front of the king already. The sooner she knew what sort of man she was dealing with, the sooner she could start working on her strategy. She would need all of her wit and persistence to survive this ordeal, let alone come out on top.

As the clattering of the carriage came closer, Autumn felt the last pieces of her determination settle into place. Her sister Spring had not been allowed to be here to see her off, as she was the crown heir of Veld. It had been deemed too dangerous for both her and the queen to appear at the edge of the woods, in case the Wizard King betrayed them and turned this hand-off into an ambush. They had therefore said their goodbyes this morning, in the castle courtyard. But that was not good enough, Autumn decided.

She was not going to die. Whatever it took, she vowed to herself, she would find a way to make it through, and she would see Spring again.