"What... why... how?"
The words tumbled out in a complete mess while his brain promptly threw up an imaginary error message and shut itself down.
The shock nearly knocked him over, but the relief that followed nearly did the same thing for an entirely different reason.
Thank God. It wasn't Zarius.
There was no imperial decree forcing the Duke of Valtrane into a strategic match with a foreign princess. The crown hadn't cornered them into a political marriage that would force Cherion into the shadows.
Not that he'd let them, of course. He'd simply have to become everyone's least favorite political scandal.
It was Marielle.
Cherion swallowed, blinking rapidly as his brain desperately tried to put itself back together. Not that Marielle and Iryna wouldn't make a striking pair. They were both sharp, formidable, from perfectly respectable families, and possessed the rare talent of making an entire room of noblemen reconsider their life choices with one look.
