"I will have a concubine," Prince Carter declared. Silence snapped like a cord. Someone knocked over a glass. Chairs scraped. "You mean—" Chancellor Andre Pinto's voice quivered for the first time all evening. "This is a jest?" "It's not a jest," the prince said. He smiled as if he tasted victory. "There are duties beyond sentiment. The crown must secure alliances. The girl from Pinto House is an excellent match." Guadalupe Ellis sank into her seat and faked a sob. A dozen cameras of expression in the hall leaned toward her and recorded the moment. "Guadalupe," the prince said softly, almost cruel. "You will do me the honor." "You promised me," I said, pulling my veil back with a single motion. A hundred eyes found me. The banquet candles made my hair look cheap. The crown on the table looked small, brittle, like a child's toy they expected me to accept. "You promised the court," the prince said. "You promised the people of Evermere. Your father promised ceremony. All that was for the show. I will keep my side. I will take a concubine in public, and return to the matters of state." I stood. My steward Marina's hand gripped my sleeve. Tomas, who had been tasked with the silverware, shifted behind a pillar and stared at the floor. "You will take a concubine?" My voice was calm. "You will make a public mockery of the marriage we signed in good faith? The contract names me