“But I am responsible for my own. I’m not a fool, Viktor. I know my brother. I know he refused you. And I know the consequences of that refusal.”

Viktor’s pulse quickened with new hope. “Then do what he will not.”

She shook her head. “I cannot live my life as Katya Trelan’s daughter. I can’t. She’d smother me, or else devour me from within until Calenne was gone, and only an echo of a stranger remained. That’s what you ask, and I cannot give it to you.”

Bitterness crowded Viktor’s throat as hope turned ashen. “I’ve no time for games, Calenne. Speak your piece and be on your way.”

“I didn’t love Kasamor. I didn’t even respect him, as I have come to respect you. But he was prepared to welcome me into his family, and thus free me of mine.” She took a deep breath. The last tremor vanished from her voice. “I do not love you. What you think of me I can only guess, though I find myself hoping my guesses are not wide of the mark. Whatever we are – whatever is between us – it’s not love. At least, not yet. But if you bind me to your family, I will play the part of Katya Trelan’s daughter until the bells chime to mark our wedding.”

Objections buzzed about Viktor’s head like flies. They slipped through his fingers even as he reached for them. He swore he heard Kurkas’ riotous laughter, for he suspected the captain had seen this coming just as plainly as he had not.

Was it such a terrible idea? Viktor, disdaining the nonsense of courtship and more at home on a battlefield than among polite company, had long ago resigned himself to a marriage of convenience. After all, the continuation of the family name too was duty. It was an overdue prospect that grew nearer with every greying hair.

Why then did he feel so ill at ease? It wasn’t because the utilitarian proposal offended him. Indeed, he’d a certain stark admiration for Calenne’s cleverness. Pride and duty. This satisfied all, and for them both.

Was it then the disparity in their ages? But again, a fifteen-year span was hardly unusual. Especially when marriage between families of the upper rank was wielded as a tool of alliance more than love.

No, Viktor decided, it was more that Calenne’s forthrightness had taken him off-guard. It was not in his nature to react well to surprise. But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that a portion of his reserve was grounded in the inexplicable feeling of having crossed a finish line while having been cheated of the race.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said.