Chapter 5 #3
“Well, I have to make you feel better about yourself.” I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t hold back, and my grin twitched at the corners of my lips. “Okay, it might be the best one you’ve made.”
“That’s good to hear. I was starting to get worried since you shoveled your dinner into your mouth without stopping to breathe. You didn’t say anything about it, and I know it’s your favorite.”
I swallowed hard. “It was…great.” My compliment came out hesitant and unsure, giving my lie away. I wasn’t going to take it back or tell her the truth, tell her that I didn’t taste anything before this slice of pie. Instead, I stuffed my mouth with another colossal bite and moaned again.
All too soon, the pie was gone, the tabled cleared, and Gina kicked me out of the kitchen when I attempted to help her clean instead of meeting with my dad in his study.
I shouldn’t fear anything he had to say, and yet, something had me hesitating.
It wasn’t that I was afraid we would get into another fight, it was something else.
“Son, come into my office,” my dad ordered from the foyer, his tone brooking no argument.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath. Louder, I said, “Coming.”
It was time, and I could no longer put it off.
Straightening my shoulders, I held my head high as I walked into the foyer and turned right, moving past the staircase to the rear of the house where my father’s study was located.
My inner animal wanted to fly away and fought to get out, but I pushed it down.
My father was also a swan and no predator.
This house was a safe haven, even if I chose not to stay here any longer.
Knocking three times, I waited. Years of living here and being chastised any time I simply barged into my father’s inner sanctum prevented me from entering without permission.
This was where he used to conduct business via phone and computer.
This was where he talked to esteemed clients who had been invited to stay for the weekend.
And this was where I always received the long lectures which made me cringe and want to run away.
My father wasn’t a mean man by any stretch of the imagination, we were just oil and water, and I had always been a precocious child.
“Come,” the deep voice of my father invited, filling the hall with its sound.
As a swan, we could be loud when threatened or by choice, but we didn’t have the presence we did in our human forms…
especially my father. When I was younger, before I resented what he had done to me, I thought he could be a god or the king of everyone.
I’d put him on the pedestal, and when my eyes were opened, I pushed him off, and he plummeted many stories.
I slid my hands down my shirt and slacks, wiping away the sweat while also smoothing out my clothes. I was presentable, but this gave me another whole second before I had to face my father.
Slowly, I pushed open the door and took a few cautious steps inside.
“Close the door,” he ordered from his seat behind his giant oak desk. From there, he appeared intimidating and powerful, as if one swipe of his hand could knock me to the ground or kill me.
I cringed inwardly while I moved to do what he said. I was right, my mother wasn’t anywhere in the office—unless she was hiding behind the curtains, which I seriously doubted.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “What did you need, Dad?” My voice sounded strained and tight as if I was trying to force the words out.
“Sit.” He pointed to one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk.
There were two, both antiques, made in the days of Henry VIII.
Deep colored wooden arms with a seat that had been reupholstered more times than we’ve had presidents.
Some of those times were my fault. Like I said, I was a precocious kid and seemed to find myself in trouble a lot.
Those chairs were sturdy and massive, and yet, they fit this room and didn’t stand out too much.
“I’ll stand,” I told him, forcing myself to remain calm. Whatever he had to say to me wasn’t good. “Are you dying?” I blurted, instantly regretting my loss of control.
His jaw dropped open and his eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of his head like in the cartoons. Stammering for a moment, Dad finally regained his wits and snapped, “What in the world is going on in that fool head of yours?”
“You retired early, you are acting strange, you call me in for a private discussion, you are checking up on me with Mrs. Harris.” I ticked off each statement on my fingers, sounding more nonchalant than I felt.
I didn’t want something to be wrong with him, but at the same time, I was on edge having a discussion without Mom present.
He didn’t move, didn’t blink. I fought the urge to check to see if he was still breathing or had a pulse.
“Dad?” Leaning forward, I snapped my fingers in front of his face causing him to jump.
Shaking his head, he dropped his gaze from me to the top of his desk and breathed deeply, releasing it slowly and did this twice more before he said anything else.
“Love…” He stopped and sat there for a moment before he began again, “Life is too short to be worried about…not living. We have enough money to continue with our lifestyle for two lifetimes, and not spending the time with your mother?—”
“Is something wrong with her?”
He chuckled softly, probably at my utter lack of patience.
I’d never really been a patient man, and if I didn’t have to exercise that particular virtue, I wouldn’t.
Holding up his hand, he met my worried stare.
“No, son, nothing is wrong with her, but once you find that person who is your other half, nothing else matters. We may be human, but we are also swans, and swans mate for life…as do we.”
Personally, I would never do what he or my grandfather had done: retire early to do whatever with my life with no real purpose.
“Dad…” I didn’t know how to respond. My parents’ relationship, as well as that of my grandparents’, had always been something to strive for and envy.
Many tried to come between them, to insert a wedge between the happy couple, but everyone failed.
In this world, too many fed off drama or longed to see others suffer, and they tried to do what they could to create strife.
“I know you think love doesn’t exist for you, but you never know what is going to come in life. You have to roll with whatever it throws at you.”
“Any more clichés you want to throw at me?” I bit out sarcastically.
His glare could melt a candle. “Maximillian…” I realized I screwed up when he basically growled my full name instead of my nickname, but I would not back down.
“What did you need?”
At that moment, I was surprised I hadn’t died. If looks could kill and all that. My father glowered at me, and I wanted to wiggle in my seat. I didn’t, but I wanted to.
Finally, he released me from our staring contest and shifted to open a desk drawer. “Trouble is coming. I’m not sure who or what, but something is coming for you.”
“Me? What did I do?”
He dropped an open envelope onto the desk in front of me and leaned back in his chair. “Nothing…”
I noticed his hesitation and the way he suddenly appeared anxious and sad all at once. His fingers on one hand rubbed back and forth along the edge of his desk, and a line of sweat appeared on his forehead while his other hand pushed through his hair. What the hell was going on?
“What?”
His face flushed red, and he shifted in his chair, pushing away from his desk, only to pull back again and rest his elbows on top of it.
“Dad?”
Without waiting for him to say anything, I grabbed the envelope and ripped out the letter inside, uncaring if I was destroying something my father wanted to keep intact.
“Tell Max to be careful. Something is blowing in, seeking out payment for old debts.” I frowned, my forehead creasing more than it ever had before.
“Old debts? Payment? What the fuck is this?” Usually, I tried to refrain from cussing in front of my parents.
He was digging at his cuticles, picking at the skin around his nailbed. A sure sign he was worried. “Dad?”
Sighing, he stopped what he was doing and ran a hand through his hair again before clearing his throat. “It’s a warning.”
“I get that,” I snapped, any patience I’d had, vanished.
“We knew this day might come, but we hoped it never would, that both families would leave the past in the past.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” But maybe I did. My dream, that feeling I’d been carrying around with me since I’d woken up. Something was coming…either that or I was losing my mind, and my father had already done so.
He breathed out long and loud. “You remember the story, right?”
There was only one story he could be referring to. “About how we were cursed? Yes, of course, I do. I live it every day of my life!” I sniped, frustrated at my annoyance and his cryptic talking.
“Someone survived.”
“What are you talking about? The witch died, burned at the stake or something.”
“One did.”
I sucked in a breath. “What?”
“The witch had a daughter. The family tried to find her and killed her relatives, but she never appeared. In addition, the king’s mother was related to them. It was her sister.”
“I’m confused.” My head was swimming.
Nodding once, he wiped his head with a handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket. “I’ll start at the beginning.”