The sun began to set over Aetheria. Usually, the sunset was a time of prayer and beauty. The sky turned a soft pink and gold. But for Celeste, the colors looked like bruises. She sat on her thin mat and watched the light fade. She knew this was the last time she would see the sky of her home.
The guards came for her an hour later. They did not knock. They just opened the bars of her cell and told her to move. They led her down to a large hall. This was the hall of the Angel High Council. It was even bigger than the throne room. It was where the angels made their laws and signed their treaties.
The room was full of old men with long white wings. They sat in a circle. In the middle of the circle was a stone table. On that table sat a piece of parchment that looked very strange. It was not white like angel paper. It was dark, like old skin. It glowed with a faint red light.
"Is the girl here?" one of the councilmen asked. He did not look at Celeste. He looked at the paper.
"She is here," King Uriel said. He was standing by the stone table.
Celeste was pushed forward. She saw the paper clearly now. It was the Demon Scroll. This was the contract. It was the "Price of Peace." She saw words written in a language she did not know. The ink was dark and thick. It looked like dried blood. At the bottom, there was a large, messy signature. It pulsated with heat.
"This is the mark of Athan," the councilman said. "He has agreed to stop his army for ten years. In return, he gets the first daughter of the Aetherian line. The deal is blood-bound. If she dies before the wedding night, the war starts again. If she runs, the war starts again."
Celeste felt sick. They were talking about her like she was a piece of trade. They didn't care about her life. They only cared about the ten years of peace.
"Sign it," the King said to Celeste.
"I don't have a pen," Celeste whispered.
The King pulled out a small gold dagger. He grabbed Celeste's hand. He was not gentle. He pricked her finger with the sharp tip. A drop of red blood welled up. He pressed her finger onto the dark scroll.
The moment her blood touched the parchment, the room went cold. The red glow turned into a bright fire. Celeste felt a sharp pain in her chest, like an invisible string was pulling her heart.
"The contract is sealed," the councilmen said together. Their voices were hollow.
"Take her away," the King said. "Get her ready for the border. I don't want to see her again."
Celeste was led out of the hall. Her finger was still bleeding. She felt a strange pull toward the south. That was where the Demon Kingdom was. She realized the scroll had linked her to Athan. He was her owner now.
As the guards led her back toward the towers, Celeste saw a shadow move in the hallway. It was a girl with small, soft white wings and kind eyes. It was Princess Elara, her younger sister.
"Celeste!" Elara whispered. She ran toward her.
The guards tried to stop her, but Elara pushed past them. She hugged Celeste tightly. Elara was the only person in the palace who had ever been nice to her. She used to sneak extra bread to Celeste's tower.
"I am so sorry," Elara sobbed. "I tried to talk to Father. I told him it was wrong. I told him he couldn't send you to the monsters."
Celeste felt a tear run down her face. "It's okay, Elara. At least you are safe. If I go, maybe they won't send you."
"But they say the Demon King is a devil," Elara cried. "They say his palace is made of bones. You won't survive, Celeste. You don't even have wings to fly away if he tries to hurt you."
Celeste squeezed her sister's hand. "I will try to be strong. Don't forget me, okay?"
"I could never forget you," Elara said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silk ribbon. It was green, like Celeste's eyes. "Take this. So you remember home."
Before Celeste could take the ribbon, a cold hand grabbed Elara's arm and yanked her away.
It was Queen Seraphina. The Queen looked like a beautiful statue, but her eyes were full of hate. She pushed Elara behind her.
"Get to your room, Elara," the Queen snapped. "Do not waste your tears on this defect. She is doing her duty for once."
Elara looked at Celeste with sad eyes before she was forced to walk away. Now, Celeste was alone with the Queen. The guards stood back, giving them space.
"You think you are a victim, don't you?" Seraphina whispered. She stepped very close to Celeste. She smelled like cold lilies.
"I am being sold to a monster," Celeste said.
Seraphina laughed. It was a quiet, mean sound. "You belong with a monster. Do you want to know why you have no wings, Celeste? Do you want to know why your father hates to look at you?"
Celeste stayed silent. She had wondered this every day for eighteen years.
"Your mother was not just an angel," Seraphina hissed. "She was a witch. She practiced dark magic in the gardens. She tried to poison the King's mind. When she died, the King hoped you would be pure. But you were born with those ugly scars instead of wings. You are a half-breed. You are a mistake."
Celeste's heart hammered in her chest. A witch? Her mother was a witch?
"That is why you are being sent to the Half-Devil," the Queen continued. "A monster for a monster. Your mother deserved her death, and you deserve your husband. I hope he breaks you. I hope he realizes what a pathetic thing you are and throws you into the fire."
The Queen turned around and walked away, her silk robes hissing on the floor.
Celeste stood in the hallway. Her head was spinning. She wasn't just "defective." She was something else. Something forbidden.
The guards grabbed her again. "Move," they said. "The carriage is waiting."
They took her to a small room where a black dress was waiting. It was not a wedding dress. It was a shroud. It was the kind of dress people wore to funerals. They forced her to put it on. They did not give her shoes.
They led her out to the back gates of the palace. There stood a carriage. It was not made of white wood like the angel carriages. It was made of heavy black iron. It was pulled by four horses with red eyes and smoke coming out of their noses.
A man stood by the carriage. He was not an angel. He was a demon soldier. He was covered in gray skin and had horns coming out of his head. He looked at Celeste and bared his teeth.
"Is this her?" the demon asked.
"This is the sacrifice," the angel guard said. He pushed Celeste forward.
Celeste stumbled. She looked back at the palace. She saw a single light in a high window. She hoped it was Elara waving goodbye. But then the light went out.
The demon soldier opened the iron door of the carriage. It was dark inside. It smelled like sulfur and old leather.
"Get in, Princess," the demon said. He laughed. "The King is waiting. He hasn't had a new toy in a long time."
Celeste climbed into the carriage. The door slammed shut. She heard the sound of a heavy lock clicking into place. She was trapped.
As the horses started to move, Celeste sat on the hard bench. She held the small green ribbon from Elara in her hand. She thought about what the Queen said. A witch.
She didn't feel like a witch. She felt like a girl who was about to die. But as the carriage left the borders of Aetheria and started to go down into the dark valleys, she felt that strange pull in her chest again.
The Demon Scroll was calling to her. Somewhere in the dark, Athan was waiting. He had paid for her with ten years of peace. He had bought her blood.
Celeste closed her eyes. The air was getting warmer. The bright, cold light of Aetheria was gone. For the first time in her life, she was in the dark.
"I am not a princess anymore," she whispered to herself. "I am just a bride."
She didn't know that the "monstrous" husband she was so afraid of was currently standing on a balcony miles away, looking at the stars, waiting for the only woman who could ever complete him. He didn't want a sacrifice. He wanted a Queen. And he was ready to kill anyone who tried to take her back.
The carriage bumped over a rock, and Celeste fell to the floor. She stayed there, huddled in her black funeral dress, as the iron wheels turned toward her new life.