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past.”
    Aniri narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand. How would an arranged marriage with the Third Daughter of Dharia help keep your people from…” She didn’t want to call him a barbarian to his face, especially when he seemed to be striving so nobly for peace.
    “From falling back into barbarism and anarchy?” His smile was grim as he gestured to the palace walls surrounding them. “It must be hard to see, here in your beautiful palace and lush gardens, but you are fortunate to have a united people under a strong ruler like your mother. Jungali needs a Queen. A brand new alliance with the powerful country of Dharia would cement the tentative hold I have on the crown. This arrangement would bring peace to my country, and I wish for that even more than I wish for peace with Dharia.”
    “Surely there is another way to ensure peace between our countries.” Aniri searched the pavers at her feet, as if she could find the proper words there. “A trade agreement or treaty, perhaps. This marriage would just be—”
    “Princess Aniri.” His lowered tone drew her gaze back up to him. “I am sure you have someone you would far prefer to marry. I had always hoped my Queen would be someone I loved as well. But I’m willing to forgo marrying for love in service to my country. I’m hoping you will be willing to make a similar sacrifice for yours. This arrangement will save lives and bring peace to both our countries.”
    Aniri looked away from his intense stare. “I fear that you may be more noble than I am, Prince Malik.”
    He took her hand, and she nearly jerked back, surprised he would touch her. But he had the desperate look of a man who believes he is about to lose everything.
    “There will be no children,” he whispered, his fingers warm and gentle. “Ours would not be that kind of marriage. I’m sure you already have a lover. You may keep him. I will even raise any children that come from your love union with all the rights of royalty in my land. All I ask is that you be discrete, that you help me maintain the fiction of our marriage, so it will bond our countries together and keep us from war.”
    Then he shocked her further by bending down on one knee, still holding her hand carefully in his. “I beg of you, Princess Aniri. Whatever demands you have, I will meet them. Please accept my proposal of marriage and help me to save lives in both our countries.”
    Heat rose in her face. “I…” She paused, desperately wanting to say no, but with the prince at her feet, clearly willing to do whatever it took to convince her, the shame of shirking her duty burned in her chest. “That is…” The words were choking her. “That’s… the most noble thing I have heard in some time, Prince Malik. Please... please stand.” She took his hand in her two and urged him up from the ground. “I will consider your proposal and give you my answer in the morning.”
    Prince Malik closed his eyes briefly, and Aniri could see the defeat on his face, as if she had already given her answer. But the truth was she had never been more uncertain. She hadn’t expected him to move her. She hadn’t expected him to be noble. It dragged on her even more than the embroidered silk that weighed her down like an iron casket meant to take her to the ocean floor.
    He quickly opened his eyes, dropped her hand, pressed his two together. “I will await word from you then. Arama, Princess Aniri.”
    He bowed quickly, turned, and strode from the Queen’s tea garden, leaving her alone with her uncertain heart and Janak’s cool stare from the far side of the garden.

Aniri appraised her weapons, taking time to make her choice.
    The table was spread with sabers, foils, and scimitars glittering in the cool yellow gaslamp light of the training room. Gleaming brass handguards and elaborate dark wood grips topped strong steel blades and curved bronzed tips. The Samirians were known for their metalwork, and these imported weapons were the