Chapter 2 #2
Father refills his wineglass. “The monarchs agreed to relinquish our claims on our individual provinces. We will give up both our land holdings and our titles.”
I have to fight back the triumphant smile when Dom blanches at that news. How will she feel when some Gifted sympathizers, or even the Gifted themselves, move into her bedroom? Take over the boxing ring and tear down the artwork and destroy hundreds of years of family history.
“And the Gifted?” I ask through clenched lips, hating that I have to.
“The laws regarding the Gifted’s ability to bear children, gather in groups, own businesses, and work without a sponsor will be rescinded as soon as the new government secures their place.”
“How will the new government be selected?” Alex questions, his eyes darting to me.
“They have not determined that yet. But they did concede one point to us.”
I bite my tongue to keep in my sarcastic retort because so far these terms seem wholly weighted in the Uprising’s favor. I cannot help but feel like we should have fought harder before giving in.
“Though I and the other current monarchs will be ineligible for any position in the new government, our descendants will not be similarly barred.”
Dom and I exchange looks, the implication in this news clear.
I have been primed to take over leadership of Scota from the moment I was born.
Scota doesn’t forbid women from inheriting titles, unlike the other three provinces, but I was born first, and Dom has never shown any interest in leadership.
If one of us is going to work within this new government, it’s going to be me.
Truthfully, I want nothing to do with this new government, would leave Avon altogether if I thought it would make my life easier. But Father said the laws regulating the Gifted won’t be officially rescinded until the new government is in place. Which means there might be hope still left.
“However it is the Uprising decides to select a new leader, we all know what needs to be done.” Father picks up his knife and fork once again.
Dom’s and Alex’s eyes land on me.
Father spears a bite of roasted meat on his fork, with more fervor than required. “I can admit, I do not know what comes next, but what I do know is that we will do whatever it takes to protect Scota and protect this family’s legacy.”
I swallow thickly, burying my gaze in my plate of food, even though I no longer have an appetite. Ruling not just Scota, but the entire country of Avon? Running a new government full of people whose ideologies don’t match with mine? “I do not know if I am up to the task.”
Father swirls the wine in his glass, his outwardly calm appearance hiding whatever true emotions he feels about losing his title and legacy. “There is no doubt in my mind that you are the leader Avon needs, Callum, and you must be prepared to do whatever it takes.”
“What if whatever it takes is something I’m not willing to do?
” I know I sound like a petulant child, but I want him to give me more.
I need him to show me that the loss of life as we know it is as devastating to him as it is to me.
I need to know that he thinks this is truly the best course of action for Scota, that he’s not just rolling over to play dead.
He leans his elbows on the table, pushing his plate out of the way.
His dark eyes meet mine, piercing. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t do anything to keep this family’s legacy?
To protect the citizens of Scota? To build a society where all citizens of Avon can be cared for and prosper and live in safety? ”
Heat flames my cheeks as shame flows through me. “You know I would.”
“Then let this argument be done. Whatever the decision might be, whenever it is to be handed down, you must be ready to act, son.”
I push back my chair, needing to escape the heavy stares from my sister and uncle. My father has already dismissed me, waving for a servant to come clear my plate.
Dom catches up with me in the hallway, her shorter strides rushing to keep up. “I’m going to head over to La Puissance tonight. Maybe you should join me, help take your mind off things.”
“The last thing I need is to spend my evening with a bunch of Uprising sympathizers. I can’t believe you patronize such an establishment.
The gold you spend there goes directly to funding our enemies, to providing room and board to the Gifted.
” The little food I managed to eat curdles in my stomach.
She grabs my elbow, yanking me to a stop in the grand foyer, my shoes squeaking on the pristine marble floors. “Your bias against the Gifted is truly wearing thin, brother.”
“I’m not biased.” The defense is automatic, even if we both know it’s not true. But we have laws regulating the Gifted’s use of their powers for a reason. We know why such laws are necessary, better than anyone.
“She was an outlier, Cal. The rest of the Gifted are not like her.” Her voice softens, as it always does when we broach this subject.
Dom was six when our mother died, I was ten.
Mother was tossed from her horse and a Gifted healer was brought in to save her.
For a short while, it seemed like her Gift would work, but at the last minute, something changed in her.
Rather than healing my mother, the Gifted woman sat by and watched Mother choke on her last breaths.
She listened as my father begged her to do something, as I sat in the corner and sobbed.
And she did nothing. When my mother’s chest stopped rising, her heart gone still, the Gifted stood calmly, looked to my father, and said, “The penance has been paid.”
I didn’t understand what her words meant then, and I was too afraid to ask. All I knew was the chill that raced through me as she delivered them so calmly, as if sitting by and watching my mother die meant nothing to her.
Now I know that the woman was attempting to make some kind of statement, lodge some kind of protest against the restrictions in place against her kind, even though they were enacted long before my father took power. All she really did was prove the need for those very laws.
I shrug off Dom’s hand, forgoing the easy escape in favor of turning back toward my rooms. “Do what you wish with your own time, Dom, but don’t expect me to come along.
Don’t expect my coin to fund the people trying to destroy everything this family has built.
Some of us have responsibilities to think about instead of focusing on our own pleasure. ”
I don’t have to see her to know my words have scored a direct hit; the soft intake of her breath is enough to let me know.
I regret the insult immediately, but I don’t take it back, striding up the stairs as quickly as possible.
Putting distance between us, between all the things I can’t bear to think about.