20. Seeing Double
20
Seeing Double
Caspian
“It’s the duplicate,” Aunt Pen explains. Meanwhile, I’m confused as hell, scanning an identical contract to the one I signed with Father. A copy that should, technically, have a signature from a member of the Council and also be in their possession.
“He never submitted it,” Aunt Pen says. “Yes, I’m certain he discussed it at length with the Elders, got their approval, but this means nothing is official. As it stands, your only commitment is the verbal one you made to a man who was no longer in his right mind, Cas. In other words, if you can somehow manage to pull your head out of your fucking ass, you’re free from this godawful situation you’ve gotten yourself into.” She smiles while delivering the news, but I don’t share in her lightheartedness.
When I meet Aunt Pen’s gaze, the smile fades from her face altogether.
“For the love of the gods,” she groans. “You can’t possibly still be thinking?—”
“This plan still works, Aunt Pen. It’s the most likely means of?—”
“Securing a fucking heir,” she says mockingly. “I’ve heard your whole damn spiel about it.”
Her lack of understanding for the dilemma as a whole is frustrating. But the woman wouldn’t know loyalty if it bit her in the ass. Still, I’d be lying if this escape route she’s presented isn’t tempting.
Very tempting, actually.
I’m admittedly torn. What’s right for the clan is still right for the clan, but I’m no longer legally bound.
I’m not sure what to think when Aunt Pen rounds my desk, standing beside me. Her hand warms my shoulder, and it’s the first sign of affection she’s shown me in years. It simply isn’t in her nature.
“You and Evander were close. Trust me, I understand that. Anyone with eyes could see that he loved and doted on you since the day you were born,” she says, and I hear the love in her voice as she speaks of him. “But it wasn’t my brother’s right to place this burden on your shoulders, Caspian. Which is why I believe he couldn’t go through with the final step. He knew you wouldn’t go against the Council because you’re good, and you’re loyal. So, maybe this was his gift to you, making it where you don’t have to go against the Council. Maybe… this is what ends it all.”
She squeezes my shoulder before letting go, and then takes her place on the opposite side of my desk again.
“At least consider it.”
I don’t speak, because how can I not consider it.
“Fine,” she sighs, “but this conversation is far from over. I’ll give you time to process the news, but we will revisit this. Then, once we successfully put out one fire, you can finally focus your attention on a far bigger issue.”
“Bigger issue?”
She nods and that menacing smile of hers is present again. “I mean, you do want that fucking faction burned to the ground, don’t you?”
My brow gathers. That information isn’t public knowledge. Granted, we can’t do anything about the mumblings on the street, but we’ve been very intentional about not allowing the media to give the faction free publicity. The last thing we need is for smaller pockets of disgruntled members of the clan seeking out other likeminded individuals.
“What’s the matter? Didn’t think I knew about that?” She smirks.
“Well, if you’re still running alongside the Fontaine family, I shouldn’t be surprised. They always seem to know what cancers are eating away at the clan. Seeing as they’re one of them.”
“Ok, yes, the Fontaines have done their fair share of dirt, but they’re allowed to exist within this clan for a reason, Nephew.”
She isn’t wrong, but that doesn’t make it easier to swallow that, for decades now, we’ve turned a blind eye toward that family and all the nasty shit they’ve done. All because, on occasion, the nasty shit they’ve done… has been at the request of the High Chamber.
“Ok, fine. No Fontaines,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But what about Phaedra Bellrose. Her military power is unmatched and if anyone can persuade her to help, it’s you. Although, convincing her to extend her resources might require that you do her a favor in return.”
Aunt Pen winks when she finishes, and we’re both well-aware of what sort of favor Phaedra would demand. The kind that would require double layering condoms, then a scalding hot shower and a priest to cleanse my soul when it’s over.
“Pass.”
Aunt Pen laughs. “That’s it? Pass? Seriously? Are you sure you’re still in a position where that’s an option?”
I lower into my seat again, now that the tension between my aunt and me has waned a bit.
“Pass,” I repeat.
Aunt Pen shrugs. “Then, I’m sorry to say it, Nephew, but you’re running out of options. Keep turning your nose up at everyone who can help you, and you may look up to find yourself standing alone.”
Her words settle on my heart as she starts toward the door. While it feels as if we’re ending on a far more peaceful note than when the conversation began, I’m still glad to see her leave.
“I’ll have Archibald see you out.”
I’m just lowering my head when Aunt Pen casts a look over her shoulder and I peer up again. The smile she flashes signals trouble.
“No need,” she says. “I think I’ll stick around a while. Shake things up some. You can still call Archibald, though. I’ll need him to have someone prepare a room for me.”
Fucking hell.
“Sleep well, Nephew,” she says with a smile. “I’ll see you at breakfast, and remember… I take my coffee black.”