“Protected?”
“Somewhat.”
“Enforceable?”
“Not fully.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Explain that.”
I took a moment before answering, because this was the part she would understand too quickly.
“If you acknowledge the claim publicly, you become the legal center of the pair.”
Her brows drew together. “Meaning?”
“My obligations become enforceable through you.”
“What obligations?”
“Protection. Residence. Political allegiance. In some clans, voting proxy.” I held her gaze. “In older law, command rights.”
Her expression changed.
Calculation.
“You shouldn’t have told me that.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to use this.”
“I assumed you would.”
“And you’re comfortable with that?”
“No.”
That made her blink.Good.I had not intended to comfort her withthe answer.
“I am not comfortable with the council using you,” I said. “I am not comfortable with your agency using you. I am not comfortable with Solberg’s clan using you. And I am not comfortable with the fact that the best protection I can offer you is a place inside another system.”
Her face went still as she took in the truth neither of us could make cleaner. She did not answer.
Then Catalina looked back at the mark on my shoulder, her thumb hovering just beside it. “So the question isn’t whether I’m claimed,” she said.
“No.”
“It’s who gets to define what that means.”
“Yes.”
Her mouth tightened. “Wonderful.”
It was not.
“But I would rather put the teeth where you can see them,” I said, “than smile while someone else closes them around you.”
Her mouth curved faintly. “That was good.”