5
The daysshe wasn’t at the lab, she mostly worked at a cafe a short walk from her apartment. She was predictable, so anyone who wanted to waylay her only had to watch her routine a coupledays.
Petru took a seat at her small, outdoor table. Surah sighed, continued to sip her chai and type at her laptop, and hoped he’d go away if she ignoredhim.
He shut herlid.
Surah sat back in her chair, staring at him. “I could have had unsavedwork.”
“Prince Geza gave us formal permission to wed. I am here to ask for your hand inmarriage.”
She laughed. “You two are funny.” But on the inside she was uneasy. It wasn’t entirely unheard of to drag a gargoyle bride to the altar when politics and bloodlines and money were involved. Mostly the practice had lessened over decades of constant exposure to humans, but…it stillhappened.
The misogynistic fuckers. If she didn’t love Malin, and her brother, she’d let the Ioveanu bloodline die and take all its antiquated ideas with it. But that wouldn’t change the culture–only nudge things along the rightpath.
“I’m a good choice foryou.”
He looked so serious as he said it, that she actually couldn’t help but ask him, “Why?”
“We grew uptogether.”
“Well, no, not really. And you were a jerk to me when I was ateenager.”
He shrugged. “Females who want to be warriors should expect to be challenged. I am already aware of the difficulties with your personality. Another warrior might just beat you out of frustration–as long as you’re available to me when I want, I will otherwise leave you alone.” He paused, expression thoughtful. “Despite what we all thought growing up–you haven’t embarrassed Geza. You work, your affairs are discreet. You haven’t gotten fat like human womendo.”
Petru looked around the cafe, mild distaste flashing across his face. “I don’t understand how you can be around cattle all day long and not want to knife yourself in the evening. They can’tfly.”
She wanted to knife herself now. “I’m not going to marry you, Petru.” Surah gathered her things and rose. “And you know what? I’m going to go tell Malin on you and Geza for being mean tome.”
Petru’s eyeswidened.
* * *
“Geza, did you sign a betrothal agreement?”
The pause on the other end of the connection had her heart thumping. “Not yet,” her brother said. “Look, Petru isn’t a bad choice. He’s so obtuse most of your insults would bounce off his thick skin. I wouldn’t have to listen to complaints about your behavior all thetime.”
She leaned her head against the brick. She’d walked a block and tapped her wrist unit, unable to wait even another ten minutes to get to her lab. “Geza, I don’twant—”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t run around single. Eventually someone will kidnap you in order to use you as leverage against me–everyone seems to think I like you. So you’ll be forced into a marriage–or just used as a rival’s whore–whether you like it or not. Unless you have someone else inmind?”
“No. And you do like me–you just don’t like that I’m smarter than you.” This wasn’t the time to mention Malin. That subject would have to be broached with care–the political ramifications would be interesting since she was, technically, Geza’s heir. Until he had children, she occupied a unique position at court. Petru was right. She wasn’t an Ioveanu, but she was still considered an Ioveanuprincess.
“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, and disconnected, then calledMalin.
He answered on the second ring. “Surah?”
“We need to talk. And promise you won’t get mad. I’ll be there in an hour.” She glanced over as movement alerted her. Petru approached on foot, shades over hiseyes.
“I want to say one more thing to convince you to do this willingly,” hesaid.
Surah wanted to tear her hair out. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’ve got to go.” He was in front of her now, backing her against the brick wall. “What are you doing? You can’t beserious.”
His head lowered, hands on either side of her head. “I’m handsome. You won’t suffer in bed with me. I’ve fucked enough cows to know how to pleaseyou.”
“Are you not even worried about how incredibly speciest you are? So now I’m acow?”
He looked confused. “Of course not. You’re anIoveanu-“
