Alexander exhaled sharply, fists clenching at his sides. "They didn't even give us time to breathe. She just returned."
Amiel rubbed his temples. "And arranged marriage? Seriously? In this era? The Emperor really dug into the archives for this one."
Ahce stood quietly between them, pulse steady but cold. She wasn't sure how she felt. Not after everything else.
They moved to the side sitting chamber, smaller and more private, but tension still clung to the air.
Amiel threw himself into a seat, frustration radiating from him. "So let me get this straight. Ahce… needs to marry the Empress's youngest nephew?"
Alexander nodded grimly. "That's what the decree says."
Amiel groaned into his hands. "Brother, the age gap. It's wrong. Very wrong. Yes, Ahce is our baby sister, but she's already twenty-nine. And that boy is..."
"Twenty-two." Alexander finished. "Seven years younger."
Amiel flopped back, expression incredulous. "Seven! And they think this is a good political match?"
