Chapter 8
Callum
“Have you thought any more about your father’s proposition?” Alex dismounts his horse in front of the stables, handing the reins off to one of the waiting stablehands.
I had been about to dismount myself, but now I reconsider.
Perhaps I should dig my heels in, giving my horse the signal to hightail it away from here.
I would love nothing more than to escape this conversation.
But I sigh, jumping from the horse and passing off the reins.
“You know I have thought of little else.”
It’s not entirely true. My thoughts over the past day have swung back and forth between the need for me to murder my own father, and the gorgeous face of the woman I am supposed to trust to help me.
I’m not sure which line of thinking has been more disturbing.
“Is there a reason you do not want to become the Scotan candidate?” Alex removes his riding gloves, shoving them in his pocket before turning to walk back to the estate.
“Aside from the fact that in order to do so I need to kill my father?”
“Aside from that, yes.”
I glance at my uncle, but he does not mean the words in jest. Alex has always been insightful. He comforted me when my mother died and gave me advice before the first time I bedded a woman; he has seen me through every phase of life.
“Something is keeping you from accepting this responsibility, Cal.” He comes to a stop under a large tree, the canopy of leaves shading us from the midday sun as it peeks through Scota’s ever-present clouds, as well as any prying eyes that might be sweeping the grounds of the estate.
“And I don’t think it has as much to do with killing James as you might want us to believe. ”
It might have something to do with the person I would need to trust once the act was done.
It also might have something to do with the insecurity I feel deep in my bones, an insecurity I couldn’t acknowledge to anyone else other than Alex.
“It is one thing to think about ruling Scota. I was born for it, bred for it, have been preparing for it my whole life.”
Alex nods, letting me know he is listening, but he does not interrupt.
“But it is another thing entirely to think about presiding over all of Avon. Not only that, but to be the first one tasked with bringing the four provinces together. It is a job I am not sure I am equipped to handle.” A weight lifts off my shoulders, the act of admitting this fear already alleviating it.
“You would make a good leader, Cal.” Alex slings an arm around my shoulders. “You have the experience and you’re one of the most even-keeled people I know. This country is going to need someone kind, someone levelheaded, someone intelligent. You have all of those qualities in spades.”
I scoff, turning away from him so his hand is forced to drop from my shoulder. Something about the physical touch chafes instead of comforts. “I am not sure that I do.”
“Is this about the Gifted?” he asks after a quiet moment.
My shoulders stiffen. My opinion on the Gifted and my thoughts on them regaining their rights under the new regime haven’t shifted so greatly since I saw Lady Caterine perform. But the thought has crossed my mind: Maybe I have judged the situation harshly.
Though maybe that is Lady Caterine using her Gift. She brushed up against me when she approached me at the bar. Perhaps she knows exactly who I am, what I intend to do, and is attempting to use her Gift to stop me.
“You know, your mother was a fierce advocate for the Gifted.” Alex takes a step forward, forcing me to look at him.
“And look where it got her.”
“I do not believe that someone as smart as you, Callum, can truly base your opinion of an entire group of people on the actions of one single person.”
“I believe that when that one single person kills your mother, it’s understandable.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, likely to keep from reaching out to strangle me.
“Your mother believed that the Gifted had been oppressed for much too long. She believed that all citizens of Avon deserved equal rights. It is part of the reason why we do not enforce the laws against the Gifted here as strictly as they do in the other provinces.”
“And you agreed with her?”
“I still do, Cal. And I think deep down in your heart, if you let yourself move beyond the past, you would too.”
I shake my head. “The Gifted want me to move beyond the past? Fine. How about what they are forcing me to do in the present? They already stole one parent from me and now they want me to murder the other.”
“That is not the work of the Gifted but the decision of the Uprising.”
I snort. “You and I both know they are one and the same.” I run a hand through my hair.
“Perhaps you are right, Uncle. Perhaps I am the right leader for this new united nation of Avon. And perhaps the first thing I will do once elected is make sure the Gifted never have the power to hurt anyone else the way they hurt my mother.”
Alex places his hands on my shoulders as if to hold me back, though I made no move to strike him, would never. “It’s okay to be upset, Callum. This is a terrible situation, and you’ve been given an impossible choice. It’s understandable to be mad about it.”
I wish I believed him. But I don’t have time to be mad.
I don’t have the right to be mad. My father can be mad, my sister can be mad, even Alex can be mad.
But it’s not a luxury I can allow myself to sink into.
Too much is riding on me, riding on this decision I don’t think I have the strength to make.
“Do not patronize me.”
Alex sighs, patting my cheek and ruffling my hair as if he wants to do exactly that. “I hate what this has done to you. There is the possibility of so much good that can come from this, but it isn’t fair that you have to be collateral damage. I wish there were another way.”
I let my anger simmer down to something closer to anguish. “What would she tell me to do, if she were still here?”
Alex’s eyes, the same blue as mine, the same blue as my mother’s, pierce through me. “She would have told you to follow your heart, and as long as you do that, everything will work out as it’s meant to.”
Everything will work out as it’s meant to. Sounds like a bunch of trite nonsense to me.
I leave Alex under the tree, striding across the grassy green lawn of the castle grounds.
I don’t know where I’m going, or where I’m supposed to end up.
It feels like I don’t know much of anything these days, and despite his best intentions, I’m not sure Alex helped me gain any clarity on the matter.
I would be na?ve not to realize that the other provinces have not been so lucky as Scota.
I have heard stories that turned my stomach, seen the evidence of the economic disparity that plagues the other provinces.
Maybe assassinating the monarchs of those provinces is the closure the people need to move on and focus on a new future. A befitting punishment.
But that is not the case here, and I do not know how to come to terms with it.
I wind up back at my suite of rooms, sinking into an armchair in front of the stone fireplace.
It is still early afternoon and the flames have not yet been stoked.
The light shining through the windows provides its own kind of warmth.
I only have a few minutes of peace before a knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, perhaps just in time.
Dom enters the room without waiting for permission, heading directly for the decanter of whisky sitting on the small wooden table in the corner. She pours two glasses, handing one to me before sliding into the seat across from mine. “You should drink that before we have this conversation.”
I’m too weary to argue with her, too lost in my own thoughts to worry about what she could possibly be here to tell me that requires bracing myself with liquor. I just toss back the contents of the glass, enjoying the burn.
Dom takes a dainty sip from her own glass. “I went to meet with Lady Caterine this morning.”
My hand, halfway to reaching for the bottle for a refill, freezes.
Her face has haunted my dreams—both waking and asleep—ever since my visit to La Puissance.
The only time I’m not thinking about her is when my mind is consumed with the impending death of my father.
“What could you possibly have to discuss with Lady Caterine?”
“I went to La Puissance with the goal of trying to get a read on her. And to ask her for a favor. Well, a favor I’m paying for, so really, asking her if she was up for a job.”
“Spit it out, Dom. What did you ask her to do?”
She takes the bottle from me and refills my glass. “I’ve arranged for you to spend the week with Lady Caterine.”
I choke on my drink. “I’m sorry, you did what?”
“There is less than a week left until…you know…and if you are going to need Lady Caterine’s assistance to deal with the aftermath then that means we have one week for you to learn to trust her.”
“You’ve gone mad,” I mutter, knowing full well she can hear me.
“This needs to be done, Cal. There isn’t much I can do to help you with this situation, so I decided to do this.
” On the outside, she is nothing but blustery confidence, but I know her well enough to see the pain in the depths of her blue eyes, and I wonder what all of this is doing to my sister—watching me struggle with this decision and being powerless to help.
“So what, I’m just going to spend the week hanging around La Puissance? Joining their dance rehearsals and palling around with scores of the Gifted?” The thought doesn’t sound as terrible as it once might have, not if it means seeing Lady Caterine again.
“Lady Caterine is going to be giving you sex lessons.”
Whisky comes flying out of my mouth. Luckily Dom is quick enough to duck.
“Sex lessons? You asked her to give me sex lessons?” I picture the woman I watched glide around that stage, her knowing smile and lush curves.
I think about my sister telling that majestic woman that I need sex lessons.
My entire body flushes with heat and shame, and perhaps underneath all of that, maybe a tinge of excitement.
Her eyes meet mine, the blue twinkling with mischief. “You brought this on yourself, Callum. You are resistant to what needs to be done. Don’t blame me for finding a way to make this situation work.”
“There wasn’t a slightly less humiliating reason you could’ve come up with?” I grumble. It doesn’t escape me that it’s been a long time since Dom had anything close to humor in her eyes, and how grateful I am to see it, even if it is at my expense.
“She’s expecting you in her suite tomorrow evening. She doesn’t know the full extent of what you might require of her.”
Well, there’s that small bit of relief at least. She doesn’t yet know I’m being pressured to murder my own father.
“Use this time to learn to trust her, Cal.” She swigs the remaining whisky from her glass. “And if nothing else, maybe let her relieve some of your stress, if you know what I mean.”
I glare at her, because I know too well what she means.
Dom heads for the door, but she hesitates for a brief minute. “Lady Caterine’s Gift is powerful, but specific. She can’t manipulate your emotions unless you…finish…in her presence. So if you are feeling wary, abstain from release and you’ll be fine.”
“How am I supposed to relieve my stress if I can’t—” My question is cut off by the door slamming in my face. “Why couldn’t I have been an only child?”
I down the remaining liquor in my glass. Then I finish the small amount left in the bottle.
Sex lessons.
My stomach flutters, the mere thought of my hands on Lady Caterine’s curves enough to set my emotions whirling.
Embarrassment floods through me, but I’d be lying if I said there also wasn’t a hint of anticipation.
A whole week to be spent in Lady Caterine’s bed.
My skin begins to itch, like something spiky is coursing through my veins.
My blood begins to heat, before it rushes to my cock, the mere thought of Lady Caterine wrapped in silk sheets enough to make me hard as granite.
Then the reality sets in. A whole week in Lady Caterine’s bed without allowing myself to orgasm lest she manipulate my emotions without my consent.
A week that will likely end with me stabbing my father in the back.
Will this be the best week of my life, or the worst?