Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X, #1)(114)
His words had left her breathless. Or maybe it had been the light on his face. Whether his motivations were honorable or not, he believed wholeheartedly in what he was saying.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” she said quietly. “The military is all about following orders. How is that any different from around here?”
Gan smiled. “Because you choose to follow them. And because they give you purpose. Do you have a purpose, Miss Koskinen?”
The question sent chills down her spine, but she tried to put on a mask of indifference. “Of course,” she said politely. “But I appreciate your advice. You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.”
His expression told her she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’ll be sticking around here for another hour or so if you’d like to talk more, then I have to head back to the Gustav. Early flight—otherwise I’d stay longer.”
“I understand.”
Someone called her away then, and she murmured a polite farewell. Her heart was racing, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was the glory he’d described. Maybe it was the thought of simply not doing what she’d been raised to do here. Or maybe it was just someone speaking to her candidly for a change. She never bothered to find him, though.
The night wore on. More smiles, more compliments, more dancing, and more champagne. She felt a headache coming on and slipped away from the party to find a painkiller in the kitchen. Before she could reach it, however, someone caught hold of her arm. She flinched.
“Mae, come here.”
Kris Eriksson stood in the doorway to her father’s office, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “What are you doing here?” She was more surprised at someone intruding in the sanctuary of her father’s office than Kris’s soliciting her attention. The Eriksson family were longtime friends of the Koskinens, and Kris was one of her more persistent admirers. She liked him well enough but had never given him anything more than friendly thoughts.
Glancing around to make sure no one would see her sneaking off with a guy, she followed him into the office and shut the door behind her. “What’s going on?”
His blue eyes were alight with excitement. “It’s all settled,” he said. “I didn’t think it would happen this quickly. I thought we’d have to wait weeks after tonight. Maybe even months. I knew you’d be getting lots of other offers and didn’t think your mother would take ours so soon.”
Mae felt as though she were trying to understand a conversation in another language. “What’s all settled?”
“You and me.” Kris moved close and clasped her hands in his. “Getting married. Our families worked out the details. Your mom’s going to get a partner’s share in our stock, and we can get married within the year.” He put on a mischievous grin that didn’t quite manage to reach his cheeks. The Erikssons were heavily affected by Cain, and Kris had had a number of skin treatments. “I’d rather have it sooner, but I suppose we’ll have to take the time to do a wedding right.”
A cold lump settled in her stomach. “No one asked me. It can’t be settled. And I wouldn’t—” She hesitated, unable to say that he was no one she’d choose. Not that it really mattered who they’d “settled” on.
Kris didn’t seem deterred. “I can ask you now.”
And then, to her complete and total horror, he got down on one knee in her father’s office and produced a ring box from his coat pocket. He opened it up with a flourish, giving her a glimpse of some glittering mess.
“Maj Erja,” he said, still grinning like they were in on a joke together, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Mae stood there for several agonizing seconds, her mouth agape. Finally, she simply blurted out, “No. I can’t. This isn’t right. Something’s not right.”
Not waiting for his response, she nearly ripped open the door and tore down the hall to the kitchen. There, her mother was engaged in some kind of altercation with Claudia, Mae’s sister, while their brother Cyrus leaned against the wall and looked on with amusement.
“Mother,” exclaimed Mae. “What in the world is—”
Her mother held up a hand for silence. “Be quiet. Something important is going on.”
“More important than you selling me off?”
The angry expression reserved for Claudia shifted to confusion and then understanding. “Ah, that.”
Mae felt her eyes widen. “Yes, that! How can this be some kind of afterthought? We’re not in some kind of Regency novel where you trade me for a dowry!”
“So dramatic.” Her mother tsked. “You know these kinds of business transactions are made all the time.”
It was true. Although antiquated by plebeian standards, marital arrangements involving exchanges of goods weren’t uncommon among the castes, especially the upper classes.
“Yes, but usually the parties involved get asked!”
“Why? Is there someone else you wanted?”
“I didn’t want anyone!” Mae told her. “Not yet.”
“Maj.” Her mother put on what was apparently supposed to be a kindly look, but it came across as condescending to Mae. “You can’t really have thought you were going to flit your days away doing nothing of use, did you? Look at you. You are our last, best hope to turn this family around. You need to redeem us, save us from the ruin others would see us plummet to.”
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