"I do not want," Larissa said, "a stately country home, with or without attached lands and title," holding the deed of investiture as though Eric had just handed her a week-dead rat.

"It's a stopgap, of course, until you become a Princess," her father said. "Sign under my signature."

Larissa favored him with an especially acid look, and tossed the parchment back onto his desk.

"You will make every little thing a battle, won't you?" Had he worn spectacles, his tone would have called for him to look at her disapprovingly over the top of the frames.

"It must be a family trait." She slouched in the wingback armchair.

"Granted, it's small," he continued undeterred, "but it's a lovely piece of property. Five minutes walk from Arden, and a view out over the sea that's worth killing for--"

"So you keep it, and I'll visit."

"I've already divested myself of that particular holding," Eric said, waving a piece of paperwork with his seal in the corner.

"There's a fireplace right there." Larissa made a grab for the document, but Eric flipped it out of her reach with a snap of his wrist.

"Larissa. It's important that I be seen as generous to my supporters--but I would rather keep lands in the family as much as possible. Investing you is also to your benefit." He leveled a finger. "They call you 'Lady' because they don't wish to risk my ire, or Islain's, but your...populist sympathies stand you in poor stead. Like it or no, you are a member of the ruling class, and pretending to be a mere mortal will not endear you to anyone."

"Horrors."

Eric gave her a moment to correct her attitude, looking at her fixedly, one finger tapping the blotter. She squirmed, but only a little. "Utter disregard for the opinions of the world at large is a time-honored tradition in this family."

"Be as eccentric as you like. After my coronation."

She wrinkled her nose.

"Or," he said, appearing to consider, "I could give it to Lord Osravan. He has been hinting--"

Larissa straightened, scandalized. "The snotty one who says 'lesser orders' unironically?"

"That's an uncharitable decription. And you might consider interrupting less frequently." Eric pushed the deed toward her again.

She glared at him, then sighed. "One day, I'll win an argument with you." Larissa reached for the pen.

"No," said Eric, "you won't." And he grinned.