Paloma did not see Duke Rinne again for another month.

This time, it was intentional.

“I can’t imagine why he wants to see me,” she told Artan, moving one of her marble game pieces to an adjacent square. It was a part of the set they always used, one that had grown familiar in the fourteen months she'd been living as Irina Lis. “There is no reason for him to see an imposter.”

“Perhaps he wishes to discuss your engagement.”

Paloma’s stomach dropped. She toyed with the fabric of her skirts between her fingers, trying hard not to feel the weight of the ring still adorning her gloved hand. “Considering nothing has come of it in more than a year, I presumed it was to be canceled.”

“Einar honors his promises.” Artan sighed as Paloma took another token from his side of the board. “Society is going to start wondering why there has been no wedding, and Einar is too honorable of a man to ruin your life that way.”

Paloma furrowed her brow. “Where I’m from, a woman’s worth is not tied to her marriage partner.”

“Mother always says the same thing.” He smiled a little, glancing at an elegant watch he'd procured from his pocket. “Unfortunately, we’re not quite so forward-thinking here. I wish we were.”

“You’re checking your watch.”

“He’s to arrive any minute. I should greet him at the gates.”

“Greet me?”

Duke Rinne moved with an almost preternatural grace for someone so large. He’d traded in his starched uniform for a crisp shirt and vest, with shapely woolen trousers.

Artan rolled his eyes, but his face was fond. “Einar, you really ought to knock before you enter another man’s study.”

“I heard my name and got ahead of myself. Pardon my intrusion, Lord Lis.” Duke Rinne shook Artan's hand firmly. His face was anything but apologetic.

“Paloma is already here, as you can see,” Artan’s face stiffened, just a touch. “I trust you can behave yourself this time around? I’d hate to get written up for assaulting a superior officer, but I find myself willing.”

“I intend to be a gentleman.” Duke Rinne’s eyes skimmed Paloma’s — Irina’s — face, giving nothing away. “I’ve had time to make my peace.”

“Then what exactly is it you wished to discuss?” Artan took the lead, and Paloma was thankful, she was scarcely sure she could speak, even if she wanted to. “You so rarely come around these days. It must be important.”

“It is time we talked about the engagement.”

Paloma froze, her hands twining together in her lap. “Your Grace, I should hardly think you’d wish to maintain the engagement considering —”

“I think it is time we set a wedding date.”

Artan, for all his bravado about the Duke’s honor, seemed floored. “Pardon? Just like that?”

The Duke sat in one of Artan’s many nicely upholstered armchairs, crossing his arms. “There is little option. To reject your ‘sister’ now would be a declaration of contempt between the two ducal households. How are we to explain a falling out between two people who were supposed to be childhood best friends?”

“I will take responsibility, your Grace,” Paloma said softly. She looked down at her knees. “If it prevents me from being welcomed in society, I suspect little will be lost.”

“It’s not about you,” the Duke insisted, refusing to meet her eyes. “You know how nervous Adilet gets, Artan. And unless you want to explain to him why the most powerful financier in the Kingdom married into a family of witches, I suspect you’ll see sense.”

“The Novaks —?” Paloma started, but she thought better of it and fell silent.

“You best hold your tongue, Einar.” Artan’s tone was low. Warning. “I have tolerated a lot from you this past year. I don’t find myself particularly charitable right now.”

“So you object to the marriage?” Duke Rinne quirked a brow. “Or are you simply being hard headed?”

“It isn’t for me to decide.” Artan’s eyes met Paloma’s. “What do you think, sister?”

Paloma could see the flinch that the Duke couldn’t quite hide. “Would it hurt the family if I did not continue the engagement?”

Artan hesitated, but wilted beneath her steady gaze. “I cannot say it wouldn’t.”

Paloma paused, then stiffened her resolve.

“I must do what is best for the family. I doubt that Irina would like to see her family name smeared because I decided to be coy about which marriage partner I wish to share a loveless union with.”

Duke Rinne bared his teeth into a facsimile of a smile. “Interesting that you purport to know the heart of someone you have never met.”

“Einar, enough.” Artan sighed, running his hand over his face. “She’s right and you know it. It would break Irina’s heart to see us all fracture apart over this. If you’re willing to follow through, even if only on paper, and Paloma agrees, I doubt father will protest.”

“What of the Novak bloodline?” Paloma asked quietly. “Does that not worry you?”

Duke Rinne’s face was resolute. “I’m not worried about the Novak bloodline,” he stated, his expression stern. “Because our marriage will be a childless one. Let my brother sire the next duke.”

___

“He truly intends to go through with it.”

Duke and Duchess Lis joined them later that evening, after Artan had debriefed them on Duke Rinne’s meeting. Duke Lis had been equally as startled as Artan when Duke Rinne paid his respects that afternoon and began to discuss arrangements.

The Duchess took a slow breath, resting one slight hand on Paloma’s knee. She’d grown used to that touch by now, but it was still unmooring to her, to be the recipient of such motherly affection. “Paloma, dear, are you certain this is what you want?”

Was it?

She couldn’t see a better option. Duke Rinne — Einar, as she would soon need to call him — didn’t seem like a bad person. He wasn’t particularly kind to her, but he would not harm her. Everyone spoke well of him. He didn’t wish to force a relationship where there was not one, only to bind them together for political reasons.

And perhaps her bar should not simply be her physical safety, but it was.

After all, Paloma was used to living in the spaces between. She knew what it took to survive somewhere she was unwanted.

She had to honor what Irina would have done. What she wanted would never matter, and that was okay.

This was not her life. Not really.

“I think it is prudent.” Paloma gnawed her lip. The dim firelight danced on the glossy wood of the coffee table, where their pot of tea had long since cooled. “He will take care of me, and it will prevent the royal family from asking too many questions about the Novaks.”

The Duke’s face softened. She could still see the grief in his eyes, most days, but he never spoke it aloud. “My dear, you need not sacrifice your happiness for us. If you say so, we will cancel the engagement. We could certainly care for you for the rest of your days. We have had so little time to get to know you. You know we see you as family.”

“Irina is your daughter,” Paloma insisted. She squared her jaw. “And she would want the Rinnes and the Lis’ joined. I must trust what she saw in Duke Rinne.”

“If that’s what you would like, Paloma...” The Duchess gave her knee a gentle squeeze. “But you always have a home here. Remember, I was once where you are now. I’m not sure which of the rumors you’ve heard, but the Novaks are made of stronger stuff than you know.”

The Novaks had already entered a marriage contract with the Lis heir when Irina’s mother had been reincarnated here. Still, Irina’s father didn’t know the original Adela Novak. Not the way Duke Rinne knew Irina.

“Just think about it, Paloma,” Artan told her. He walked to the bar beside his desk and poured two fingers of liquor in a sturdy crystal glass. “We will support you. Just because it would be hard to end the engagement, does not mean it would be impossible."

“I have no business leeching from your kindness forever.”

Paloma stood abruptly, straightening her skirts and hiding behind a thick curtain of her —Irina’s— blonde waves. “I already took your daughter from you. The least I can do is honor her wishes. I know what Irina wanted because I read it in the diary. She wants me to give Duke Rinne a chance. How can I not?”

“Paloma, you don’t need to martyr yourself —”

“I’m quite tired,” she said abruptly, fooling no one. “Please forgive me, but I think I will turn in for the evening. I will see you all at breakfast.”

Paloma could hear the sound of Duke Lis silencing a protesting Artan as she scurried down the hallway, her shoes pinching her toes and her eyes glossy with tears.

Because she didn’t want to marry Duke Rinne.

She had finally made a home here, with people who genuinely cared for her, and now it was going to be taken away. Although she knew she had no business stealing this precious thing that was not hers, the childish part of Paloma wanted to keep it.

But, as with all lovely things, it was not for Paloma.

So she did what she always did.

She nodded softly and accepted the hand she was dealt. After all:

It could be worse.