“Great. I mean, I’m Ekata. Which you already knew.” Were people’s mouths normally this dry when they got married?
I opened the door myself and led her in. The couch was bare and showing off its hideous pattern. Aino sat behind it. Sigis was at the table with Eirhan, frowning at a sheet of paper. A pounding started up in my chest.
Sigis and Eirhan stood. When they spotted Inkar’s arm linked through mine, they forgot to bow. The fat sapphire on her finger caught the light of the fire.
I hadn’t thought this through.
“Minister, my bride.”
CHAPTER SIX
Inkar’s newly ringed hand tightened over my wrist. Her other hand drifted toward her belt to drum on an empty ax loop. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said in precise, carefully enunciated Drysian. She sounded like someone who’d perfected the language through booklearning but hadn’t yet learned the art of conversing with contractions.
Eirhan tried to rally himself. “I—ah.”
“Is this some sort of joke?” Sigis said. Fury was written in every line of his body, from his hand, whitening around his clay wineglass, to his face, flushed and wrathful. The last time I’d seen him so angry had been on a hunt, when Velosha’s favorite hound had brought down a polar bear he’d been stalking for hours. He’d severed the hound’s head in one blow, and it looked as though he wanted to do the same to Inkar now.
He turned to Eirhan and said in an icy voice, “You said Her Grace didn’t want to start the coronation trials.”
To my relief, Eirhan spoke for me. “Her Grace has the right to—”
“Her Grace is a child.” Sigis’s hand squeezed the wineglass. The clay shattered. Like you’re the epitome of maturity at twenty-one. “And it’s your job to keep her from doing things like this.”
I felt Inkar’s muscles stiffen. Anger clashed with my sickening fear. Grand dukes looked after their own. “You can’t speak like that to him,” I said.
Sigis jerked toward me. “Or what?”
I stepped back before I could stop myself. His eyes shone with something worse than hate: the fury of a powerful man hearing no.
Show no fear. I took a breath, focusing on where Inkar’s fingers dug into my arm.
Eirhan cracked the fragile silence. “The coronation trials have technically begun, but the first trial is only officially complete when the grand consort accepts her duke’s increased responsibility—and it would be unwise to do so until the trial marriage is over,” he added hastily. I narrowed my eyes. For the next eight days, my marriage to Inkar could be called off by either one of us. Eirhan was clearly hoping that Sigis would hold off on challenging me in the coronation trials until after the trial marriage failed.
Eirhan’s gaze settled back on me, sharp and unforgiving. “I would appreciate the chance to speak with Her Grace alone.”
Sigis couldn’t resist having the last word. He leaned in until I could smell the lingering sweat on his coat, his sour-bitter breath from drinking wine and coffee. “Don’t forget whose army is sitting at your door, little Ekata.”
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. We all jumped. I resisted the urge to giggle in hysterical relief.
Inkar’s smile disappeared. Solemnity sat well on her, making her dark eyes look wide and deep and intelligent. “Do you make all your guests so happy?”
“Her Grace the consort rivals Her Grace the duke for humor, I see,” Eirhan remarked dourly. “Ekaterina, what could have possessed you?”
“The prospect of waking up next to Sigis every morning for the rest of my short life,” I replied. I felt like hiding behind my new wife.
Inkar laughed in a series of soft exhales. Eirhan didn’t smile. “Your Grace has just infuriated the most powerful man in the North,” he said through gritted teeth.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? The most powerful man in the North had decided he and I should be married, and so many scrambled to do his bidding that they hadn’t stopped to think about whether I’d wanted to be married to him at all.
“Aino, will you see the grand consort to a suite? Her Grace has much settling in to do.” Eirhan bowed to Inkar, low and graceful.
I almost pulled Inkar closer. She and Aino felt like armor that Eirhan was trying to peel away from me. I could say something grand, like, Anything you say to me, you can say to her. But I hadn’t even known her name five minutes ago. It wasn’t exactly the romance of legends. “Aino, please make sure she has everything she needs.” I disentangled myself. “I’ll escort you to dinner.”
“Someone will escort you to dinner,” Eirhan corrected me.
Aino gave me a strange, bewildered shake of the head before curtsying to Inkar. “Please come with me, Your Grace.”
Inkar turned her smile on me one last time as Aino led her out. Her mouth was red and full and inviting. I opened my mouth to stammer out a goodbye, then shut it.
I heard Inkar laugh softly as the door closed.
Eirhan folded his hands and let the silence draw out. Finally, he said, “Does Your Grace have any idea whom she has chosen as a wife?”
Only a man made of arrogance would speak to a grand duke that way. I fought to keep my voice neutral. “I was under the impression that any candidate in the brideshow was an eligible match.”
“In theory,” Eirhan snapped. “But this is not theory. This is politics. Inkar is the daughter of Bardur Erlyfsson and the mistress of the Emerald Order.”
Bardur Erlyfsson, one of my father’s great enemies. The raider who’d attacked our shipping routes, and the last big threat to Kylma before Sigis. I remembered, now, that Eirhan had said his daughter was part of the brideshow. “You should have mentioned her by name.”
“Inkar’s attendance is an experiment—a test of trust after the peace. She’s his twenty-fifth daughter, so if she dies here, there will be no lasting effect on his kingdom. But he’ll still be able to legitimize war.” He rubbed at his face. “Do you understand the dangerous pieces you’ve brought into this game?”
All I could think was, twenty-fifth daughter? “Were Erlyfsson and my father competing to have the most children?”
Eirhan growled his frustration. “This isn’t the time for jokes. We’ve spent all day claiming you won’t compete in the coronation trials. We hinged an offer of marriage around it.”
“You hinged the offer,” I corrected him, folding my arms. “I said no, and you ignored me.”
“Your Grace can’t say no to every little thing she dislikes. Ruling means compromise.”
“Not about him.”
We stood for a moment, facing each other, readying our verbal arsenals. Eirhan and I both struggled for power. And while I didn’t have enough to completely defy him, I couldn’t give in. Grand dukes were unquestionable, even to their prime ministers.
“The trial marriage lasts for eight days, right? I’ll just call it off. Then we are where we were before, without coronation trials.” And I didn’t have to marry Sigis.
Eirhan rubbed at his temples. “No one’s going to believe that you’re not trying to steal power. We’ll frame this to the council as you against him: you trying to preserve the throne through necessity, him trying to steal it. And don’t call off the trial marriage. If you proclaim yourself dissatisfied with Inkar, you need a damn good reason. Erlyfsson could call it grounds for war if he thinks you’ve slighted his daughter.”