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The idea of anything of Harrison’s going anywhere near my mouth makes me want to vomit—not a great sign when going into any marriage, but especially not one bound in the Order’s black ink.
“You wait, when this happens to you I’m going to besounhelpful.”
Cat laughs. “Please. My dad’s greatest terror is that his daughters will get married. He wouldn’t ask me or Bianca to do anything, even if it made him the president.”
We fall into silence, while I consider if I would prefer Cat’s father who is overprotective to the point of smothering his fully grown daughters, or my parents who want to use me as a political chess piece.
I take a deep breath as I reach for my purse. Maybe I’m overthinking this. It won’t be that bad, right? I mean, it’s not like I’m marrying a complete stranger or anything. We’ve been betrothed for years, that should count for something. It will be fine.
Famous last words.
* * *
Ipeer out at the shadowy darkness whipping past the car, the occasional distant porch light or headlights passing in the opposite direction. The ride reminds me oddly of wintertime drives with my parents when I was little, going too and from relatives’ houses or late night holiday parties. It’s certainly the wrong vibe for a date—perhaps it’s the silence.
I glance over at Harrison in the driver’s seat. I’ve learned two things about him in the last twenty minutes that I never needed to know about anyone. He finds the light from cell phones—even other people’s—intensely distracting, and drives in complete silence. No music. No podcasts. No chatting.
Like a serial killer.
I don’t think he’s an actual serial killer, and this isn’t exactly the worst thing that anyone has ever done, but it’s certainly not something I would list as an attribute on a dating profile. I envision a lot of very silent dinners in our future. Silent car rides. Weirdly silent sex.
I shiver.
Harrison spares me a look. “Are you cold?”
“No,” I say too fast. “I’m fine.”
He smiles benignly. “Okay.”
I feel guilty. He’s not even bad, just veryquiet.I suck in a breath. Okay—he’s not going to take the conversational lead, so I guess I’m going to have to.
“So,” I begin, and then realize I have no idea what to ask him.Where do you see yourself in five years? What are your biggest strengths and weaknesses? Do you have any questions for me?“Tell me about yourself.”
He laughs ruefully. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m actually pretty boring.”
I want to bang my head against the dashboard.
“No, I’m sure that’s not true.”
I cast around for anything I know about him. Anything I can ask about.
The Dane family is one of the original eight founding families in the Order, along with my family, the Lawrences, the Avons, the Hathaways, the Minolas, the MacBeths, the Cesarios, and the Montagues.
They own a multi-media empire, with arms in news, print, and Hollywood. They’re responsible for both the laws against subliminal messaging, and for creating ways to creatively skirt those laws. The company was taken over a few years ago by Harrison’s uncle after his father died. Harrison’s brother is the vice president. Truthfully, I suspect my mother would have preferred to set me up with his brother, since he’ll eventually inherit both the company and the Dane’s council seat, but it’s common knowledge that he’s been betrothed since infancy. Most Order children have their marriages arranged at birth, however, mine wasn’t set up until I was thirteen.
“Which division of your family’s business do you work in?” I ask.
To my surprise, he bristles. “The news,” he says shortly. “Do you follow the papers?”
I raise my eyebrows, shrinking back slightly. “Sometimes. I’m more of a fiction reader, personally.
“Ah. So, you don’t understand current events, then?”
I recoil. “No, I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’ll have to start. The entire family works in the business in some way. You can consider that when you pledge. What are you bringing to the table, Juliette?”
We fall silent again, as unease settles over me. He doesn’t ask me anything about myself, or seem inclined to elaborate.
