The office was quiet that afternoon.
No secretary. No aides.
On the desk lay a single sheet: the draft marriage contract Rosalind had written herself that morning. A quill, an inkwell, a small dish of sealing wax. The light through the window, reflected off the snow, was softer than usual.
"Your Grace, please be seated."
"All right."
Lucas did not take his usual seat at the head of the table. He sat down beside Rosalind.
That chair was meant for the secretary. But there was no secretary in the room now. He sat next to her as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Rosalind slid the paper in front of him.
"Then let us read it through together."
"You read it aloud."
"As you wish."
She took up the paper and straightened her posture.
"Article One. Transfer of Abilities clause. Upon the marriage taking effect, the contracting party Rosalind Abel pledges to exercise all of her abilities in economics, administration, and contract negotiation for the welfare of the Grand Duchy managed and governed by her spouse, Grand Duke Lucas Vernant."
"Mm."
She squared the edge of the paper with a finger and let her eyes drop to the next clause.
"Article Two. Mutual Respect clause. The contracting parties shall be obligated to defend one another, so that neither party's judgment, character, or field of expertise is insulted before any third party whatsoever."
The tip of Lucas's pen paused, just slightly.
"—Insulted, is it."
"Merely as a precaution."
"Nobody writes it out in this much detail as a mere precaution."
Rosalind moved on without changing her expression. She lent him her quill and took a fresh one for herself.
"Article Three. Equal Decision-Making clause. All decisions arising within the household shall be made by consultation between the two parties. Any arrangement in which one party decides alone and merely notifies the other is prohibited."
Outside the window, a single flake of snow drifted quietly down.
When she had read that far, Lucas set down his quill.
"Rosie."
"Yes?"
"May I add one more article here myself?"
Rosalind looked up. It was the first time he had ever offered to add a clause of his own.
"Of course. Please, go ahead."
Lucas took up the pen and, beneath Article Three, wrote slowly in his own hand.
"Article Four. Should a child be born, the child shall be raised under the responsibility of both parties, not as an heir, but as our child. Naming, upbringing, and education shall all be decided by consultation. No third party shall be permitted to decide these matters alone."
When he had finished, he quietly slid the paper over to her.
"...This is..."
"A precaution."
Rosalind very nearly dropped her quill, and caught it just in time.
Lucas saw, and added in a low voice:
"It's an addition to the list of things you were afraid of."
Rosalind looked away, just a little.
"...As a precaution, then."
"Yes. As a precaution."
That was all he said, and he was not asked to change a single letter.
"Article Five. Termination clause. This contract may be terminated by mutual agreement of both parties. Penalty provisions are set forth in a separate annex. However, no clause shall compel the other party to performance."
"No compelled performance, hm."
"I have no wish to bind you. Should Your Grace's feelings ever change, I shall respect that as well."
Lucas was silent for a while.
Then he said, quietly:
"They won't change. They haven't changed in the three years since you came."
"...That is not the sort of clause one can put in a contract."
"I suppose not."
She sensed that he had smiled, faintly.
"It's a very you sort of clause. —By the way, isn't this contract rather too favorable to me?"
"In what sense?"
"I'd be monopolizing your abilities. That's an excessive gain for the Grand Duchy. To balance it out, I'll have to transfer something to you in return."
Rosalind considered this for a moment.
"Your Grace's time and judgment, perhaps? But I already receive a more than sufficient share of those."
Lucas covered his eyes with one hand. Even so, his shoulders were shaking slightly.
"No. Something a bit more personal."
"...Personal?"
"Yes. Personal."
The point did not quite land with Rosalind, but she concluded that, as a reasonable consideration, it could simply be added to the document later, and answered only, "Then I shall await your draft clause at a later date."
Lucas laughed again, without making a sound.
Then his gaze fell to the last line on the page.
There was one final sentence there, which Rosalind had added in her own hand.
Lucas read it aloud.
"Article Six. The fundamental obligation of this contract shall be that both parties respect one another's lives, and continue to call one another by name."
He raised his eyes from the paper and looked at Rosalind.
"...Rosie."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I'll keep calling you by your name. I promise."
Having said that, he added, as if it had just occurred to him:
"—That clause did say one another, didn't it."
"Yes. That is what I wrote."
"Then you'll call me by my name too, won't you?"
Rosalind lined up her quill neatly on the desk.
"...We have not signed it yet, Your Grace."
For an instant, Lucas looked caught off guard. Then he laughed, low.
"No compelled performance. You're the one who wrote that."
"Indeed. And so—I shall fulfill my part on whatever day I please."
Rosalind looked him straight in the face.
And she smiled.
Not a professional smile. Not a courtesy offered in thanks for his labors, nor an ironic one. Simply a smile of her own.
Lucas's eyes wavered for a moment, as though he had caught his breath.
Side by side, they signed.
Rosalind Abel
Lucas Vernant
The wax dropped onto the seal. No secretary, no witnesses. It was a private signing, just the two of them.
When she looked out the window, the snow had stopped.
Rosalind carefully folded the contract and opened the drawer of the desk. Beside the baked sweets that were always kept there. She put the paper away, as if setting it right next to them.
Only that one motion, closing the drawer, was just a little more careful than usual.
She sensed Lucas rising, and looked up as well.
"Your Grace, are you retiring for the day already?"
"Yes. —You should rest early today, too."
"Yes."
"You've been pushing yourself too hard lately. With one signature you've taken half this country onto your shoulders. At least today, get some rest."
"The advisor's working conditions shall be the subject of labor-management negotiations in due course."
"...You're putting that in the contract too?"
"Indeed. In the next revision, as Article Seven or thereabouts."
Lucas laughed without making a sound.
Then he stopped once at the door and looked back at her.
He seemed about to say something, and in the end said nothing.
There was only, around his eyes, the softest color they had held all day.