“Oh my goodness!” Scarlet gasped.

“I know. This one had set the date for shortly after the lady’s eighteenth birthday, but by the time they were of age, neither of them wanted any part of it. If it’s in writing like that, the king himself has to nullify the contract. You’re essentially already married, so it’s like asking for a divorce. It’s no small thing.”

“Really?”

“I’m afraid so. A contract is akin to vows in Coroa.”

“Even if they were children? Even if their parents did it without their knowledge?”

I’d never thought to question it growing up. I’d been so consumed with hope that someone, anyone, would be willing to sign themselves into a lifetime with me that I never thought about how it would feel if I didn’t want an arrangement at all.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “I was in the room the day of the proceedings. Both sets of parents were still very much behind the match, so, even though the couple were both standing there in tears, King Marcellus refused to nullify it. After being by Jameson’s side, I have to believe the king had something to gain from it, but I don’t know what. It’s the only reason they do anything.”

Scarlet crossed her arms, looking both angry and sad. “What happened to the couple?”

I smirked. “They’re getting their own revenge. They had an actual wedding, of course. No way around it. But she was the last in her family’s line, so she’s set to inherit all of their land. He’s in a similar position. Their parents clearly wanted one line of grandchildren to get it all in the end. But they’re refusing to have children.”

“Oh . . . Oh!”

I nodded. “Yes. And it’s been several years.”

“That’s determination.”

“It is,” I said, turning back to the mirror. “Anyway, I was thinking about all that, and about Delia Grace. She had her moments, but she went through so much. I’m glad that, after everything, she could be queen. But if my name had been on that paper, it would be much more complicated than me simply leaving the castle.”

“Do you think Jameson will really marry her?”

I nodded. “If anyone could plot their way to the throne, it’s her.”

“If it happens, I’d like to go to that party. That’s pretty,” Scarlet commented about my hair. “Reminds me of how you looked when we met.”

“I think I’m going to leave it down. And I think I’m going to wear one of my own dresses. I just want to feel like myself tonight.”

She smiled. “I know that feeling. Here,” she said, reaching into her trunk, “let’s remind everyone you were in line for a throne.”

She pulled out a headpiece I’d seen on her before, a fan made of gold and sapphires, and placed it firmly on my head. We both inspected my reflection. “It’s going to look pretty with my gold dress,” I commented, “but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me miss the days when I wore that dress with rubies.”