Alesia sat down in the chair next to her, resting her chin on one hand and watching Tamsin closely as she read. Under Alesia's intense gaze that feeling of tiny pins all over Tamsin's body began to return, although more gently. Tamsin rubbed her arms to try to dispel the sensation, and did her best to concentrate on reading.

She had a few starts and stops, and there were several passages she read through more than once, just to be sure, but by the end Tamsin was certain she had understood every word and sentence of the contract... individually. But as a whole it didn't make any sense.

"This can't be right," said Tamsin. "This says that, after the divorce, all of Gwedric's land and titles will be transferred back to me."

"That's right," said Alesia. "I double-checked it myself."

"I'm confused," said Tamsin. "I thought the whole point of waiting for three years to get divorced was so that you could retain control of Gwedric. I promise I'll really be fine if you just let me have a little house out of the way and a small allowance or something. Maybe not even an allowance, maybe a little shop that I can make a small income from, just enough to live off of. I don't need anything more than that."

Tamsin wasn't actually entirely sure she'd be able to successfully run a shop. She had been to a few shops a handful of times, back in Gwedric town, selling things like small trinkets or baked goods. But Tamsin wasn't really sure where it was that they got the things that they sold. Or how they decided what price to sell them for. Or, really, anything at all about the practicalities of running a shop. But she was certain she could figure something out, somehow, if she really had to.

Alesia had narrowed her eyes and was giving Tamsin an evaluative look, like she was trying to work something out. Tamsin squirmed slightly in her chair, feeling those pins again.

Tamsin mumbled her way through the rest of her point. "Anyway, you can change that, if you need to... Don't you need Gwedric, for your plans?"

Alesia tilted her head, eyes still narrowed. "You don't actually know why we need Gwedric, do you?"

"Of course I do," said Tamsin, defensively. "You need to slowly expand your territory and your armies in a way that won't allow for the Emperor to legally retaliate against you. Obtaining Gwedric through marriage is a simple, legal way to begin that process."

"Alright. In that case, does Gwedric have a large, skilled military force for me to add to my armies?" asked Alesia.

Alesia delivered it as a casual inquiry, but the question stung Tamsin. She thought about her nation's meager armed guard, run by a retired old soldier, and she thought about how easily Alesia's army had overrun them.

"No," said Tamsin. "I suppose not."

"Then Gwedric must be a really useful territory, then," said Alesia. "Strategically important? Gives us a strong foothold to begin expanding our influence elsewhere?"

Gwedric was only accessible via narrow mountain passes, and the path between Gwedric and Jordain was the easiest one to traverse. The paths between Gwedric and the other Aldwian nations were even more difficult to travel, especially for large groups like armies.

"No," admitted Tamsin. "But what other reason could you have for conquering us, then? For our... trees? I know we export quality lumber, but surely you can get enough of that elsewhere."

There was a stipulation in the contract that Jordaine would remain a 'preferred trade partner' with Gwedric, even after the divorce. Which was why lumber was legitimately Tamsin's best guess, although the notion felt ridiculous.

But Alesia shook her head, indicating that Tamsin was still wrong. Alesia frowned a little, furrowing her brow again. "I can't quite figure you out, Tamsin Gwedric. You know some things that you couldn't possibly know, but don't know other things you probably should. Roger knew exactly what it was I needed from Gwedric. I suspect your parents know as well. Did none of them tell you?"

Tamsin felt miserable at the mention of Roger. Whatever it was, of course he had known it. He had been personable, and competent, and likable enough that people actually told him things. He had been involved. In politics and in life. He hadn't just hidden in his rooms all day.

"My family has never really spoken to me much..." Tamsin admitted, feeling herself blushing out of shame and embarrassment, and hating herself for that, too.

"Hmmm," said Alesia. Her expression was unreadable, and Tamsin couldn't be sure she wasn't thinking about how much she regretted having such an ignorant, useless new husband.

After a moment of silence Alesia stood up, stretching and yawning in a way that very much reminded Tamsin of the old tom cat that used to hang around the manor gardens. "Sign the contract," Alesia told Tamsin. "Your own name, not your brother's." Alesia shrugged. "Or don't. But if you have any other complaints about the terms, take them up with me tomorrow. I'm done with thinking about anything today. Oh, and don't mention anything about this contract to Hugo, and don't let him know that you know anything about our plans. He's far more dangerous than he seems. Take my word for it."

Hugo? What could be so dangerous about a soft-spoken manservant like him? But then again, he had seemed oddly close to Alesia for a mere servant.

"Goodnight," said Alesia, turning to walk away.

"Wait," said Tamsin, reaching out to grab Alesia's arm without thinking about it. Even through the cloth of Alesia's chemise, Tamsin could feel the woman's taught muscles. Alesia looked back at her with an expression of surprise and Tamsin immediately let go of her arm. "Sorry, I just... are you not going to tell me why you need Gwedric?"

Alesia's mouth twitched upward in a small, mischievous smile. "No," she said. "I'm willing to bet that my new husband is clever enough to figure that out for herself. Why don't you try to prove me right?"

Without another word, Alesia grabbed a blanket from off the bed and moved to one of the cushioned box seats, curling up and wrapping herself in it.

"Wait a moment!" said Tamsin, jumping to her feet. "If anyone's going to sleep by the windows, it should be me! You should be the one to sleep in the bed."

"No," said Alesia. Her voice was getting softer with sleep.

"But it's your bed!" said Tamsin.

"It's our bed," Alesia yawned. "We're married now, remember? It's shared marital property, or whatever the term is.

"But—"

"If you keep trying to argue with me, I'll stab you," mumbled Alesia.

Tamsin was pretty sure Alesia meant that as a joke, but it sent a small shock of panic through her anyway, and she sat back down again, keeping her mouth shut.

What a bizarre wedding night this was.

Alesia began to snore quietly, and Tamsin turned back towards the one thing she felt like she could at least partially control, if she had enough information: The contract.

She started from the beginning again, carefully scrutinizing every word. She read it and reread it as the fire burned lower until eventually she fell asleep at the desk with her hand stretched out in front of her, the quill pen laying where she'd dropped it after signing her name, her handwriting only slightly shaky:

Tamsin Gwedric.

As Tamsin drifted out of consciousness, she felt oddly exposed by that signature, but also oddly proud in a defiant sort of way—she couldn't hide behind Roger's name, not for this. There were no easy smokescreens or legal fictions here. There was only Tamsin herself. With a promise to make and a task to fulfill.

And gods be damned, she was going to fulfill it. Or she was going to die trying.

But, as much as she tried not to think of the likelihood of the second scenario, her dreams were full of fire, faceless soldiers, and a woman with wild red hair and pitch-black eyes like a hole in the world.