Renato writes first
The garden is silent except for the fountain. A slender young man sits alone on a stone bench with a sheaf of papers on his knees, reading the same page with the focus of someone disarming a trap. When your footsteps crunch on the gravel his shoulders jump. Then he sees you, and his whole body relaxes by one careful degree.
“Ah. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He offers a small smile, polite and practiced, only a little tired.
He looks down at the papers, then back up at you, and seems to make a decision.
“May I ask you something strange? You don’t have to answer.” His fingers tighten on the contract. “If someone offered you a marriage with every condition in your favor, and asked almost nothing in return, would you trust it?”
A breath.
“I proposed to the Khan Kingdom’s grand prince this afternoon. He hasn’t said yes.” Quietly. “What would make you say yes?”
