But in the past, when we attended family dinners together, if I so much as tried to hold his hand, he would deftly pull away. "So many people are watching—it's not proper."

So, my touch was the only one he considered improper?

I took a deep breath, pushing down the churning emotions inside me. "Don't worry. I won't force you to go through with the marriage anymore."

Marco blinked, about to frown, when an old blacksmith approached. "Miss Rinaldi, your dagger is ready."

He scoffed, an eyebrow raised provocatively. "You're already preparing all this, and you still say you don't want to marry me?" He grabbed my hand. "Give it here. Let me see if it fits."

His voice trailed off. His gaze fell on the faint, pale mark on my finger where a ring used to be. "Where is the family ring I gave you?"

"I melted it down." My voice was flat.

The day I decided to change grooms, I melted it. It was the first gift Marco had ever given me, the inside of the band engraved with our initials. The notoriously rebellious heir had uncharacteristically blushed when he'd shoved the ring into my hand. "I engraved it myself. If you lose it, you're dead."

But in the end, he was the one who lost it first.

When I retrieved the broken ring from the trash, Marco had rubbed his nose sheepishly. "Bianca was drunk and insisted on seeing it. Before I knew it, this happened. Just throw it away—I'll make you another one."

But I waited, and he never made another one. I waited until the commitment it represented had faded entirely from his mind.

Marco's brow furrowed, his displeasure evident as he stared at my bare hand. "Can you stop playing these hard-to-get games? I told you I would marry you, and I meant it. There's no need for all these little stunts to get my attention."

Bianca tugged at his sleeve, pouting. "Marco, this dagger is the latest limited edition! I've been trying to buy it but couldn't find it anywhere!"

His frown softened as he handed the dagger to her. "Want to try it?"

Her eyes lit up, and she reached for it.

I grabbed her wrist, my voice turning cold. "Hasn't anyone ever taught you not to touch things that don't belong to you?"

I hadn't even used much force, but Bianca's eyes reddened, and she cried out in pain.

Marco panicked and shoved me away. My lower back slammed hard against the cold anvil, and a flash of white pain exploded behind my eyes.

Bianca, blinking back tears, accused, "I just wanted to look at it. Why are you being so rough?"

Marco looked at her with deep concern, then roared at me, "She's crying in pain, Jennifer! Don't you think you've gone too far?"

He didn't even notice the pain that had drained the color from my face.