The one who was never quite right. He had filed those descriptions where he filed everything, without deciding yet what they meant.

Cosima, for her part, had walked into the marriage the way a prisoner walks toward any open door — not because she trusted it, but because it was the first one that had opened in ten years.

She had no illusion that Caspian loved her.

She had, in fact, been counting on his not loving her, because a husband who wanted nothing from her heart was a husband who could not use it against her, and she had learned the hard way that the people who claimed to love her were the ones who had done her the most harm.

She married a stranger because a stranger was safer than her own father.

That was the whole of the romance, on the day of the wedding.