Andrei’s eyes linger on me for just a second. I look away, hoping my father doesn’t notice.

When Andrei leaves, Benicio sighs. “Your mother has the same effect on people.”

“What effect?”

“Draws their attention like a flame.”

I duck, my cheeks red. “I don’t want to,” I say quietly.

“You never have, have you?”

Curious at my father’s calm tone, I look up at him.

His eyes study me. I definitely favor my mother in terms of looks, but I can see how my father and I are related. The high, proud cheekbones, for one. I have his nose, arching and patrician.

Have I noticed the gray in his hair before?

Or the scars that feather out from one side of his head?

“You are quiet.”

“I have nothing to say,” I murmur.

“Nothing to say, or nothing to say to me?”

I don’t answer that question.

My father sighs and looks over the table. “You know, I would let you have a choice, if you wanted it.”

That makes me bite back an acidic laugh. “Excuse me?”

“In the suitors. You could tell me who you prefer.”

Absolutely not.

I look at my father. “Do you remember when I was six, you kidnapped Mamá and me, and you kept us in your house that was on the plains?”

He grins. “Ah yes. I loved that time.”

Of course he did. “You told me you would buy me a horse.”

“Anything for my princess.”

“It was a nice horse. I think they call the color palomino.”

“Gold,” he grins. “For my golden girl.”

“Then, when Mamá and I escaped, you sent its hide to us.”

His face falls.

I stand. “I would not tell you my choice, even if I made one. I will choose whatever you want. There will be no horse hides on my conscience. I will agree to this marriage. I will participate in your farce. But do not think that for one second, you can pretend to be a father.”

“Marisol, I…”

I hold up my hand. “You have done nothing but hurt me. This is no different. I will not be manipulated by you, Benicio.”

I can tell the use of his given name instead of “father” or “Papao” irks him, because his eyes flash. “You are my child. I am free to do with you as I wish.”