Page 20 of Summer

We. I slow my fighting but eye him warily. He loosens his grip, and when I don’t run, he raises his hands again, a motion of surrender. I cross my arms over my chest, unwilling to give him an inch. The moment I admit that I intended to run is the moment he has the upper hand on me.

“Listen,” he says quietly. “I have no desire to marry, but my parents insist. What if there’s a way we can plan this – so you escape and I remain unmarried?”

“And how would that happen?” I ask. I quickly bite my lip, mad that I’ve spoken at all.

“Well,” he begins, then stops. “I’ve…I’ve had a few ideas, but knowing that you don’t want this either changes everything.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to marry you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He averts his gaze, sheepish. “If you want to, I suppose…uhm, well…” He stutters, then shakes his head. “You’re running away! That is not the play of a female that wants to be married.”

“And I’m just to trust you?” I press. “That you’ll help me escape and not inform your parents of my deceit?”

“Have I given the slightest inkling that I’m interested in you?” he asks.

“Some males play hard to get,” I offer.

“That hard? Don’t answer that,” he says quickly when I quirk a smile. He tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling of the stable and lets out a long sigh. “I suppose you’ll have to trust me.”

“Trust is earned,” I say.

“That it is,” he replies, regarding me curiously. “Then I will earn your trust, and together we can avoid marriage to one another.”

“In what universe does your father allow me to disappear and you to remain unmarried?” I press. “I have the feeling he’d hunt any stolen property to the ends of the galaxy.”

“Unless,” Aaoric says, raising a finger to point at me. “You’re dead.”

All the air leaves my lungs. He means to kill me. And I’ve allowed him to do so without detection. He could kill me here and leave my body for the servants to find. If I’m found with the stolen items, they would get a refund from Protegre, because I’d be an unfit bride.

Aaoric’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head rapidly. “No! If he thinks you’re dead. Thinks!”

“Was that your plan? To kill me?” I hiss. I consider kneeing him in the groin. I wonder if all male aliens carry the same sensitive dangly bits between their legs. I’d very much like to crush his.

“Fake your death. If you’re presumed dead close enough to our nuptials, I can invoke mourning as if we were married,” he presses, his words coming quicker.

“Will your parents stand for that?” I scoff. I highly doubted the unsentimental old duke or duchess would allow their son to mourn his betrothed for more than a few days.

“If we are very much in love,” Aaoric reasons. “And your death were to happen…the day of our wedding?”

I eye him cautiously. “You’ve thought this through.”

“A bit,” he admits, shrugging.

“Did you plan to kill me yourself? Or have me killed?” I ask.

“I wasn’t…” he starts. “I was planning on being the one to die. Or at least, to fake my death.”

I stare at him in the dim light, trying to read him for the hint of a lie. He isn’t as reserved as his sister. His eyes are wider, more expressive. In the brief time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him try to conceal his disgust for me. Even when he speaks in Tatinnish at supper, he openly tells his family of his dislike of me.

“Fake your own death?” I echo, perplexed. “But you’re to be the duke after your father dies. You’d give up all this wealth?”

“I care little about this estate,” Aaoric says with a wave of his hand. “This is no more my home than Frihus was, or any other hovel I’ve stayed at. Gennelle cares for the manor, I do not. Let her have it.”

“But your wealth…” I press.

“There’s more to life than riches,” he shoots, and I laugh. “What?”

“That is something only those with riches say. There may be more to life, but you cannot experience it without money. Did you plan to fake your death and set out a penniless beggar? Or have you been hiding money away so that your father won’t notice that you died, and he was suddenly out a large amount of funds?”