“I understand,” Vic said in that maddeningly reasonable tone with which she accepted so much criticism. “I made my own choices.”

“Yeah, and that’s messed up, too.” Sophia crashed back onto the couch, so close their legs touched this time. “God, Vic, you were just going to not be with another woman ever again? For what? The regional economy? Do you realise how insane that is?”

Vic bristled. “It’s hard for people outside my circumstance to grasp the weight of responsibility that comes from having people depend on a position I didn’t ask for and might not be able to hold, but I owe it to everyone—”

“What about what you owe to you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You keep talking about what you owe everyone else, your family, the government, your employees, the woman working on a farm down the street, but you’re a person, too. You’re a woman who has needs of her own. I mean, I get you have this whole stiff-upper-lip-and-icy-nobility vibe, but have you seen yourself?”

She shook her head.

“You should.” Sophia laughed and grabbed her face, cupping her jaw and cheeks between both of her palms. “This face, those eyes, the way you look at me like you could eat me for dinner and then again for dessert.”

Vic’s face warmed under her fingers, only managing to prove Sophia’s point.

“You’re a red-blooded lesbian. You have dreams and desires, and every one of them is a power source. How could you bury them or drown them like they’re something to be ashamed of?”

Vic tried to turn her head, but Sophia held her steady and firm. “You have no idea, do you?”

“What?” Vic whispered.

“You don’t even understand what you could be if you weren’t so afraid of yourself, if you stopped choking off the best parts of you.”

“The best parts of myself are my honour, my dignity, my sense of purpose.”

“Do you think the rest of us don’t have those things? You think they come with your title, or could be taken away as easily?” Sophia asked. “You think loving women makes you less worthy of your position than if you’d stayed married to a man who betrayed you in every possible way? That’s not honour. That’s cowardice.”

Victoria jerked away. “Don’t you dare speak to me about cowardice.”

“Well, well, well.” Sophia sat back, her smile slow. “Did that barb get under your armour?”

“No, I simply won’t be spoken to like that in my own room.”

“Oh, really?” Sophia enjoyed seeing a little bit of fire in her. “Because I think that might be exactly what you need.”

“Don’t presume to know me or my needs.”