A Brother's Price

subject. I say you will not marry Jerin Whistler without your sister’s approval. Push me any further Ren, and I will refuse the marriage totally.”
    Ren clenched her teeth together, balling her hands into fists, trying to keep her anger in. Her mother meant it. It had been years since she’d heard such a decree, since she had lost favorite toys and been barred from outings as a child with such rulings.
    “I’m sorry you’ve set your heart on this boy,” her mother said in a softer tone. “But our line can ill afford discord between husband and wife again. Trini tried to block the marriage to Keifer, and no one listened. This time, we will listen to everyone.”
     
    Eldest Moorland cracked the door to Ren’s study and peered in. “Have you seen Cullen?”
    Ren waved her in. “He’s usually either with Lylia or Jerin.”
    Ren’s cousin sat, shaking her head and sighing. “The younger Whistlers are in the billiard room with Lylia and Odelia. Eldest Whistler is apparently trying to track me down, so I assume it’s safe to say that he’s not with her.”
    An unmarried Eldest sister looking for the Eldest sister of a marriageable man—it wasn’t difficult to guess what Whistler wanted. “What are you going to say?”
    Moorland sighed again. “Are you going to offer for Jerin? It makes a difference for us.”
    In other words, would the Whistlers continue to be poor landed gentry or would they be sisters-in-law to the princesses? Commoners might sell their brothers to the highest monetary bidder, but noble brothers went to the most powerful political tie.
    Ren sighed. She owed it to her cousin to be truthful on the matter. In sketchy details, she told Moorland where negotiations stood. “Not a word of this, though, should leave this room. I don’t want to raise Jerin’s hopes, only to disappoint him. If he has to marry someone else, I would rather he be ignorant that we love him.”
    “So that’s the way the wind blows? Well, yes, let him start with his wives with a clean slate, so to speak.”
    Ren flinched at the idea of another family being Jerin’s wives. A knock at the door saved her from having to reply. “Yes?”
    Eldest Whistler opened the door and stood in the doorway. “Eldest Moorland, I would like to speak with you.”
    Moorland made a gesture to indicate that now was as good a time as any. “It would spare me having to repeat it all to my cousin anyhow.”
    “We wish to marry Cullen.”
    There was a shout from behind the heavy drapes and Cullen tumbled out from his velvet hiding spot. He gave another whoop of delight and flung himself into Eldest Whistler’s arms. Whistler shook her head, smiling indulgently, and was soundly kissed. Ren had never thought of Cullen as a sexual creature—in that moment of frank passion, she realized he was as mature in that matter as Jerin. Her heart went out to Eldest Whistler and Cullen.
    “Cullen!” Moorland growled. “We haven’t accepted. We haven’t even heard terms.”
    “I want to marry them! Things will work out for Ren. I know they will. It’s not like any of those other fusspots would ever offer for me, anyhow. They want a biddable, beautiful man.”
    “You are beautiful.” Whistler didn’t address biddable, but Ren had no doubt that Eldest Whistler could keep
    Cullen in line. “But Moorland is right. We need to discuss terms. We’re not nobles with deep pockets. We might not be able to afford your brother’s price.”
    Cullen clung to Whistler, throwing his sister a tragic, pleading look. “I want to marry them. They would be good to me; I’ve seen them with Jerin. They have little brothers; I’d have other men around. They would teach me how to ri—” Cullen broke off at the word “ride” before it escaped completely, and changed it to “—write and read.”
    “We can only afford two thousand crowns for the scamp,” Eldest Whistler said. “Payable on Jerin’s betrothal. We might be able to work up more, but we’ll have to take futures out on our little brothers. It would take time to raise more money.”
    Moorland looked from Cullen to Eldest Whistler and then to Ren. The woman who loved her brother warred with the woman responsible for her family’s best interests. Ren could offer nothing, and waited, sure that Cullen would lose out.
    Amazingly, though, Moorland said, “You won’t have to work up more. We’ll settle on the two thousand. It doesn’t pay to beggar your sisters-in-law.”
    Whistler had