of a House marriage was a breach of the marriage contract or death.
Shit.
Richard stood. He didn’t even try to hide his smug smile. He had me and he knew it. All I could do was make the best of it. I needed to comb through the marriage contract line by line because I had no doubt he’d try to sneak in whatever he could. I planned to do the same.
“Until tomorrow, Lady Ada,” he said with a mocking bow. “I will have someone deliver the marriage contract later today. Take care with your changes—your friends’ lives depend on it.”
He left, taking the tablet with him. I stared straight ahead, careful not to let my shoulders slump or my head bow. I could only imagine the monstrosity of a contract he would try to force me to sign. I would have to pick my battles wisely.
And then, tonight, I would have to escape.
Chapter 22
The contract came after lunch on a tablet meant for children. With a thick rubber case and no networking components, it was useless both as a weapon and as a communication device. I wondered where Richard had gotten it.
The contract was as bad as I feared. Signing it would be far worse than any marriage Father would’ve arranged for me. The irony was not lost on me. Fate was a capricious bitch and it was my turn to be hit.
I read through the entire contract then started again at the beginning, highlighting passages in various colors: red for egregious, yellow for bad, blue for livable but not great, and green for favorable.
Green did not get used.
The document was half-red by the time I’d made the first highlighting pass. The rest was yellow with just a smattering of blue. Beneath my calm outer shell I shook with rage and suppressed tears.
The second pass split the red into various shades—the darker the hue, the worse the passage was for me. At least a quarter of the contract remained dark red, even though I thought I’d been generous in my use of lighter shades.
If I signed this contract, Richard would own me entirely for the next five years. After that probationary period, I might be allowed limited freedom of movement and communication as long as I was always accompanied by a companion of Richard’s choice. If I breached the contract, Rhys’s and Veronica’s lives were forfeit.
In addition, I would be forced to feed my family false information about House Rockhurst, information that would likely cost lives during the war that was sure to come. Using incorrect encryption codes or otherwise tipping them off would be considered breach of contract. So now I was balancing my life, the lives of my family, and the lives of those loyal to House von Hasenberg against the lives of my friends.
It was an impossible situation.
If I signed the contract, my only out would be to escape or kill Richard, warn my friends to go into hiding, and then go into hiding myself. My family would not take me back or protect me. I would truly be on my own for the rest of my life.
It would still be better than the life Richard had planned for me.
I saved a clean copy of the contract then began my revisions. The foundation of my changes would be saving as many people as possible. Not only did I want Rhys and Veronica to escape alive, but I wanted them to stay alive and out of Richard’s hands. If they died early or were imprisoned in any way, it would breach the contract.
Line by line I subtly massaged the contract language. It was tedious, painstaking work. I didn’t notice the time passing until the door clicked then slid open. It must have been dinnertime already and I hadn’t even made it through half of the contract.
I also hadn’t come up with a better escape plan than rush the guard and hope for the best.
A guard carrying a tray stepped through the door. I would rush him on the way out. A second guard did not step into the room, even though I was sitting at the table, and the door slid closed before I thought to look outside. The guard set the tray on the table and backed up. I tensed.
The door clicked.
I launched myself at the soldier and threw the tablet at his head. The throw didn’t have any force behind it, but it brought his arms up to protect his face, and because he’d been backing away,