The palace garden’s wall offered little protection from the heat, but the heavy, suffocating silence between them had nothing to do with the sun.

Marielle stayed frozen by the edge of the marble fountain, her hand clamped tight around the hilt of her dagger. Her boots were planted firmly on the sun-baked cobblestones, every muscle in her back coiled like a pulled bowstring.

In front of her, Iryna stood completely unfazed, the silk of her gown swaying slightly in the faint breeze. She looked for all the world as though she’d just suggested a casual stroll through the market rather than an unprecedented betrothal.

"Let me make sure I am not misinterpreting this," Marielle said, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone as she narrowed her eyes. "You are standing here, in broad daylight, telling me that you expect me to drop my dagger, and play house with you for the sake of a piece of treaty?"

"I expect you to listen to reason," Iryna replied, her tone completely even. "And I never suggested you drop your dagger. You’re welcome to keep it. I like it on you."

Marielle let out a harsh, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she took a slow step around the edge of the fountain. "Don’t play word games with me, Princess. A marriage alliance means being tucked away, wearing five layers of heavy silk, hosting tea for spineless nobles, and spending half your life sitting in a nursery waiting to produce an heir. That is what wives do in your court."

"That is what normal wives do in a traditional court," Iryna corrected smoothly, turning her body to track Marielle’s movement. "Do we look like a traditional women to you, Marielle?"

Iryna took two slow, measured steps forward, closing the distance between them without a shred of hesitation.

"As my official spouse," Iryna continued, her voice clear and carrying an undeniable weight of authority, "you would not be bound by traditional noble expectations. You would not be restricted to female court quarters, nor would you be required to bow to a husband’s command, because you would not have a husband. You would hold equal power under my house’s banner. You keep everything."

Marielle scoffed, though her grip on her hilt loosened just a fraction as the words sank in. "An equal power holder? You talk as if you’re offering me a promotion, not a leash."

"I am offering you a position of absolute immunity," Iryna said sharply. "Think about the political reality, Marielle. Stop reacting like an insulted soldier for ten seconds and look at the board."

Iryna stepped directly into Marielle’s space, stopping barely an arm’s length away.

"Auzelian needs this peace treaty signed and sealed," Iryna laid out, her voice dropping into a low, incisive murmur. "I chose you, Marielle. If you refuse my request, where does the fallout land? It falls straight onto your house. The capital’s court will claim House Valtrane is rejecting a royal hand in bad faith. It puts an target directly on the Duke’s back, forcing him into a political trap or creating a dangerous vulnerability between your people and the throne."

Marielle’s posture stiffened instantly, her eyes flashing with anger. Her jaw clenched so hard the muscle ticked beneath her tan skin.

"Are you threatening my family?" Marielle growled, her voice dropping an octave as she leaned down slightly, bringing her face flush with Iryna’s. "Because if you think you can use my brother to corner me into a bedroom, Princess, you severely underestimate how fast I can draw this steel."

Iryna didn’t flinch. She didn’t draw back, nor did her eyes shift toward the weapon at Marielle’s hip. Instead, she met Marielle’s furious glare head-on, her expression utterly calm, her pink lips curling into a faint curve.

"Not at all," Iryna murmured softly, reaching up with two slow fingers to lightly brush a stray lock of dark hair away from Marielle’s forehead. "I am simply laying out the positive and negative variables of your decision. It is not a threat to state a factual reality. Frankly, Marielle, the benefits of you agreeing far outweigh the consequences of your refusal."

Marielle felt a strange, frustrating heat flare up her neck at the brief touch of Iryna’s cool fingers against her skin. She swatted Iryna’s hand away with a sharp flick of her wrist, but Iryna merely let her hand drop gracefully back to her side, completely unfazed.

"You gain full royal protection for your house," Iryna continued, taking full advantage of Marielle’s momentary silence. "You gain royal authority that outranks every arrogant lord who has ever looked down on you for being a northern woman. You protect your brother from royal political badgering, you secure your family’s border, and in return, you spend your life paired with someone who actually has the nerve to match your temper."

Marielle stared down at her, her chest rising and falling in heavy, agitated breaths. Her mind was racing, furiously trying to tear holes in Iryna’s logic, looking for the catch, the trap, the hidden clause that would reduce her to a political pawn. But as much as she hated to admit it, every word tumbling out of the princess’s mouth made her start to think about it.

"You are insane," Marielle spat out, though the bite in her voice was lacking its previous venom, replaced by a deep, unsettled fatigue. "You are completely out of your mind."

"Perhaps," Iryna conceded smoothly, her eyes gleaming with a strange, intoxicating light as she held Marielle’s gaze. "But I am also right."

"There are dozens of capable men and noblewomen across the continent who would jump at a royal match. Go pick one of them."

Before Marielle could pull away, Iryna leaned in closer. She reached up, her fingers brushing lightly along the sharp line of Marielle’s jaw, tipping her chin up just enough to lock their eyes together. "Besides, none of them interest me half as much as you do."

Iryna took a half-step back, smoothing down the front of her dress. The crisp, clean scent of her rose perfume hovered in the warm air between them, thick and lingering.

"I am not asking for your answer right now," Iryna said, her tone softening back into that smooth, velvety purr that made Marielle’s skin itch. "Think about it carefully, Marielle. Consider what you stand to lose, and consider what you stand to gain. I know you are far too smart a woman to let cheap pride blind you to a winning tactical move."

Marielle opened her mouth to snap back, but Iryna didn’t give her the chance.

With a small, elegant tilt of her head, Iryna turned back, her heavy silk skirts sweeping across the stone as she began to walk away toward the arched gateway leading back to the inner estate. Her posture was straight, confident, and entirely unhurried, as if she already knew the outcome of the game she had just started.

Marielle stood alone by the splashing fountain, the silence of the garden crashing back down around her. She stared at Iryna’s retreating figure until the dark green dress vanished around the stone corner.

Slowly, Marielle let out a long, ragged breath, her hand finally falling away from her dagger hilt. She dragged both palms over her face, groaning loudly into the quiet morning air.

"Hells," Marielle muttered to herself, staring up at the clear blue sky in sheer frustration. "Hells take it all."

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