"You must be mistaken, sir—she was meant for the scholar, not Farreach’s sickly heir," one of General Chapman’s wives spits as the palace envoy reads aloud. "What did you say?" Cohen Winter's voice stays steady. He lifts the thin paper and lets the hall listen. "By imperial edict—Viktoria Chapman is to be the principal wife of Eli Byrd, heir of Farreach. Kallie Chapman is to join House Farreach as secondary consort." "No." The word snaps from Efrain Cotton before the rest of the hall can breathe. He slams his palm on the table and the silverware jumps. "You heard wrong. That paper's wrong. Tell your master—wrong name." Cohen sets the scroll down with both hands, then presses his heels together. "The emperor's hand is on this. I read what was given to me." "Then someone forged a hand." Kallie, all lace and pink, drifts forward like she expects applause. She claps once, sharp. "This is a joke. Father—tell him—Benjamin will—" "Benjamin who?" Molly Battle cuts in. Her voice lands flat and cold. "Benjamin's wealth is in books and polite answers. Farreach marries for power." Kallie's smile dies. Her cheeks flush with a heat that looks manufactured. "You don't understand our agreements. I was promised. Everyone knows I was promised." "Promised by whom?" Efrain counters, leaning forward until the candlelight kisses his chin. "By your own mouth? By a cup of tea and a scholar's blush? The