“I can’t.” I couldn’t let him use me. I wouldn’t let him trample the entire North. I cast about the Rose Room, as if the answer hid inside the flowers. They curled and burst in bunches, a constant reminder. Superstition. I reached for Aino’s hand.
Eirhan regarded us with that strange, inscrutable expression. “What will you do instead?”
I didn’t know.
“If Sigis is going to accept you, we’ll need strong contracts in place.” Eirhan shuffled through the pile of letters.
“Of course we will,” I muttered.
“I’m going to draft—”
“No.”
“—and ensure that any contract is favorable to us,” Eirhan finished. “Bringing it up will imply that you are seriously considering him, without making any commitments. Perhaps a hint that you will acquiesce when the trials are over, if he throws his support behind you now.”
“And he won’t see through the ruse?”
“Sigis knows that your position is delicate. Starting the trials will have consequences no matter what. But if Sigis thinks he has a shot at you, he’ll make sure you stay safe.”
I squeezed Aino’s hand to stop mine from shaking. Yes, he’d keep me safe. And then, when my ministers were cowed and my position was secure, then I’d have no choice. I could marry Sigis or have the whole thing come crashing down. I could sell myself or go to war.
And if my family woke—when my family woke—my father would be happy to get rid of me.
“You want me to marry him,” I said quietly.
“Your Grace will never have as powerful a suitor,” Eirhan said. “And you have to get married sometime. There are worse options.”
That’s where you’re wrong. Sigis was cruel because he could be. He didn’t have the political acumen of someone like Eirhan, but he didn’t need it, either. When he could break an arm between his hands, what need did he have for words?
I needed a way out. “Let me think about it,” I said.
“Let me draft preliminary agreements,” Eirhan countered.
We each waited for the other to blink.
I let him think that I blinked first. “Only preliminary.”
Eirhan nodded, and as he dipped his chin, I thought I saw the curve of a smile. It was gone when he looked back up. “Only preliminary, Your Grace.”
Aino and I stormed back to the royal wing, past whispering ministers and servants who kept their heads down as they dusted off tapestries and put fresh wood in the grates and checked for notes in messenger bowls. When we got to my rooms, I slammed the door in poor Viljo’s face. Aino took my hand, trying to soothe me as I fumed silently.
“We can still run,” she said.
“Where?” I asked bitterly.
It was a rhetorical question, but Aino set her mouth. “South. Why not? We leave the palace first, head for one of the villas in the mountains. From there we pick a route, and we take it.” She raised her eyebrows. South meant the university, of course.
I felt a little stab of longing. I’d been so close.…“I can’t abandon the duchy.”
Her fingers tightened on my arm. “You’re the grand duke. You can do what you like.”
Except choose my own husband and future.
“What if this is your last chance?” Aino asked.
“It won’t be,” I said, ignoring the jolt of nerves that came with the thought. I would find the cure. I would win—against Sigis, against everyone. And I’d take my victory to the university.
She relented, dropping her gaze. “Fine, but just—be careful. You’re a target now. Everyone is your enemy.”
“You’re not,” I pointed out. Aino gave me her classic That’s not what I meant look. “Farhod’s not. And if Eirhan were, why would he bother making me grand duke in the first place? He could have killed us when he stormed my rooms.” I meant it as a joke, but it was easier to imagine than I’d have liked. How close we’d come to dying, how maybe I only lived on his whim. Because he needed someone to keep Kylma Above afloat.
Aino’s eyes brimmed with worry. She spoke softly, slowly, pressing my fingers with hers. “This is my first lesson in politics: If a minister thinks he can use you, he will try. If he doesn’t, he will try to kill you.”
She’d always been so worried about me. I made her fret at least twice a week, and now she looked as though she wanted to cry.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
She frowned. “For what?”
“For making fun of you last night. For ignoring you. You were concerned, and I didn’t think it was relevant—”
“My dear.” She sighed, releasing my hands so that she could pat my cheek. “Don’t dwell on that. You have so much to worry about now.”
I sat down at my desk, but I couldn’t concentrate. The idea of Sigis slipping a ring on my finger, taking my mother’s throne—no, my father’s, for I knew he’d never be content as the grand consort when he could somehow connive to be duke—filled me with a buzzing anxiousness. Eirhan said it was only a preliminary treaty, but if I didn’t preempt him somehow, he’d have my brideshow announced and closed before I realized it was happening.
Maybe it was better to go south.
The duke Below needed an Avenko to keep the magical pact between our realms. But he had my father and the rest of my family to do that, sleeping though they were. Kylma wasn’t lost yet. And Farhod was the cleverest person I knew; if this curse had a cure, he’d find it.
“Aino?” I went into the bedroom.
Aino stood at my wardrobe, fiddling with my jewelry drawer. Silver and gold flashed in her hands. She tried to shove the door shut as I approached, but it was too stuffed. She threw up her hands as I nudged her aside.
Diamonds, pearls, sapphires, and amethysts clustered haphazardly within the drawer. I frowned at the mess. “This is all Mother’s jewelry.”
“Well, she’s not using it,” Aino grumbled.
“Aino,” I gasped.
She crossed her arms in a pose of motherly severity. “If we need to flee without warning, those jewels might buy the bread that saves your life.” When I only gaped at her, her scowl deepened. “You’re the grand duke, you can take what you want.”
I rallied myself. “When she discovers that you—”
“If she wakes up, she’ll never notice they’re gone.”
They were incredible pieces. If we left with them now, I could buy my own palace in the South and never think about Kylma again. Some of the stones were rough, while others were so polished they sent firelight bouncing off the walls. I saw chains with links the size of my little finger, and chains so thin they must have been spun like silk. I picked up an electrum ring with a sapphire the size of my thumbnail. It was cut in a faceted oval, with leaves and roses worked around it. It was the ugliest, most impressive ring I’d seen Mother wear. Bridal quality, I thought, and shuddered.
Then I stopped.
I didn’t have to run. There was one other thing I could do to keep Sigis from marrying me.
I slid the ring onto my finger.
“What are you doing?” Aino said from behind me.
I turned and put a hand on her shoulder. “Can you distract Sigis and Eirhan for me? Keep them from wondering what I’m up to.”