Page 20 of Cursed

. . . right?

Prudence plunged on. “If the family had united earlier against the monarchy, it’s quite possible that it would be a Saleri upon the throne now, not the Andrises. By the nineteenth century, however, overthrow was no longer on the table. Instead, marrying into the monarchy was the preferred method of regaining family honor. As you can see, however, it’s never been accomplished.”

“Because the Andrises don’t want it.”

Prudence shrugged. “In all truth, previous generations of Andrises have come close to intermarrying with the Saleris, but such is the nature of curses . . . it’s never happened. The family remained at odds with itself. The curse evolved over the years, and it couldn’t be broken. The Saleris have always married well, but not well enough. And certainly not well enough to bring the family together.”

“Bring the family together,” Vince frowned. “So that really is required?”

“So it would seem,” Edeena took up the narrative from Prudence, since Vince seemed determined to hear it all. “Father has reviewed and interpreted what he’s found as an edict requiring me to find a man of princely comportment who can bring together our extended familial factions. I do that, then success for the Saleri family is assured for all future generations.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Technically, the family dies out,” Edeena said, grimacing. “More realistically, one of my sisters will be put under tremendous pressure to marry a man she doesn’t love, will never respect, and will likely end up resenting all the rest of her days.” She shook her head. “There’s no way I can allow that to happen.”

“So, what, you’re just going to sacrifice yourself?”

The anger in Vince’s voice made Edeena look up sharply. Over the course of the past hour she’d gone through every emotion imaginable, from manic laughter to grim acceptance. But anger was new, and anger mixed with defensiveness was both new and sharply irritating.

“Yes, I’m going to sacrifice myself, Vince. And before you express your outrage, I’d suggest that if you had a similar situation befalling your family, your first instinct would be to sacrifice yourself, too.”

“You don’t know that,” he taunted her back. “You don’t know a thing about my family. You don’t have any idea what I’d do.”

“Yes, I do. I’m not an idiot.” Edeena’s tone was sharper than she intended it to be, but she didn’t care. Vince didn’t—couldn’t—understand what she was facing. “You don’t handle your business, handle women, handle your work the way you do without a strong family bond. If your parents, your brothers and sisters were here right now, they’d tell me you’d do anything for them.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “We’ll ask them ourselves tomorrow. But that’s not what’s important here. You don’t even know what you’re giving up.”

Edeena stiffened. ‘Tomorrow?’ she wondered, but Vince kept going

“You’re so quick to give up your freedom because you’ve never had freedom. So my challenge to you is: live a little. You’ve got all the time in the world to cozy up to Prince Wafflecone or whoever you decide to marry. Why not enjoy yourself until you turn twenty-seven or whatever, and experience what life truly could hold for you?”

Edeena lifted a sardonic brow. “And I suppose you’ll be my guide?”

He stared at her, eyes glittering. “You could do worse.”

Vince gripped the sides of the ridiculous wing-backed chair and leaned forward, sure that he’d gotten Edeena’s attention. “Way I look at it, you’ve got one week. One week to choose one of these idiots for your husband, and one week for you to realize there’s more to life than doing what your daddy tells you.”

As he suspected, that hit a nerve, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t know anything about what it’s like to be me,” Edeena said hotly.

“You’re right, I don’t. And the only way I could possibly figure that out is if you tell me. So I’ll give you that option. Let yourself go for the next week, be crazy, actually take the vacation you’ve so carefully set up for you and your sisters. Go on a bike ride. Eat ice cream sundaes and elephant ears and walk barefoot on the beach at sunset. And if along the way you can convince me that your way is the better way, that your way makes sense, I’ll personally escort you back to Garronia and serve you up to your father on a silver platter. If you don’t, however, I’m going to track you down and hold you accountable for making the dumbest decision I’ve ever heard of in my life. I’ll send Christmas cards to you and your husband until three years after you’re dead. My mother has a neighbor who does that kind of thing.”

Edeena stared at him. “She sends Christmas cards? That’s a job?”

Vince snorted. “Not the most ridiculous job we’ve discussed today, I can tell you that. But every year you’ll get your card, and you’ll lean over and kiss—” he looked at the nearest file folder “—Frederic, and know that he may be an absolutely stand-up guy but you married him because you were in the chute and you’d decided to get married, not because you loved him or loved yourself. You’re making a choice for your past, not your future, and that never ends well.”

“Why are we even having this conversation?” Edeena retorted. “I’m paying you and your team to provide security services, not to be my therapist.”

“Because somebody needs to do it.” Vince had her though. He knew he did, and he suspected Edeena knew it, too. He swiveled his gaze to Prudence.

“First things first. How many of these . . .” he waved a hand at the stacks of dossiers, “guys know that Edeena is now on the menu? Is her father making a general announcement in Garronia, or will it be more circumspect than that?”

“At this point, he’s in no position to act,” Prudence said. “He’s only recently emerged from . . . ah, convalescence after he attacked Prince Aristotle, and he’s being watched very closely. I suspect that will continue until Edeena’s birthday.”

“So we have a week.”

“I fail to see what value a week will provide one way or another,” Edeena groused, but Vince ignored her complaint, instead fixing on her for a different reason.

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