“When I met you the first time in the hallway, do you remember?” When she nodded, he continued. “I was angry. I’d just left a meeting with my father and his magistrates. I’d assumed I was the one to pick my Graces, and I was prepared to do my duty. But I’d been informed in that meeting that the magistrates choose. Well, they lobby. It’s an honor for them, a way to curry favor. If their girls are chosen, it often means increased access to the Superior. It can be very good for a province. That night, Father decreed I would select the prospects from Lanos, Golden Isle, and Sola.”

“Serina, Maris, and Cassia,” Nomi said softly. She’d had no idea the magistrates had so much power. That Signor Pietro, Lanos’s representative, could prevail upon the Superior to choose her sister.

Malachi nodded. “I was furious. I thought it was this sacred duty or something… at the least I thought it was my life. I hated being told what to do.”

Nomi rolled her eyes at the irony, but he was staring at the floor and didn’t see.

“When I met you, I had this brilliant flash of inspiration.… I thought I could choose you to spite my father. It wouldn’t interfere with the politics of it all—you were still from Lanos—but I’d be my own man, making my own decision. I just, well… I didn’t consider what you’d think.”

This was the least surprising bit of the entire story. Of course he hadn’t considered what she thought. She was a woman, after all.

“I wondered why you’d chosen two girls who obviously didn’t want to be there,” Nomi said, thinking of how angry she’d been and how hopeless Maris had seemed. “Asa said it was because you wanted to break us. The Superior said it too. I think… I think he liked the unwilling ones.”

Malachi skimmed a hand along the row of stitches on his arm. “I thought I was being rebellious. I didn’t want to break you.… I didn’t want anything to do with you, at first. You were only there to annoy my father. But then your sister was accused of reading and I was intrigued. I wanted to know if you could read too. I wanted to know all about you. You didn’t simper like Cassia or brood like Maris. And you were, well, you were mine. The only girl I actually chose. And while I did it for the wrong reasons, I found myself glad. I started feeling, caring—”

“But you told me that I could go,” Nomi broke in, an unexpected restlessness filling her. “You released me from my position as your Grace.”