Chapter Three #2
It was as if Elestine were a vampire, the way her words drained Scarlett of her energy.
Had Elestine caught up with them just to talk about her son?
Was Alastair, who’d told her in the past he thought depression was a choice, struggling emotionally for the first time in his life?
Or was Elestine just using this tactic to see if Scarlett could be brought around to console him, potentially—in her mind—leading to a reconciliation?
Trickery would be less of a surprise than Alastair actually being devastated, but even so, Scarlett wanted him to be okay.
Just not in the same time and space as her.
Her dad stopped and pulled them to the side to avoid blocking the procession of lords and ladies streaming through the hallway. “Is it too late for him to make his way here?”
Scarlett’s eyes went wide, and her stomach dropped. It would be better for me if he stayed home. Why can’t you see that, Dad? She tried to meet her father’s gaze to convey some of her thoughts, but he was staring at Elestine.
Elestine shook her head. “With all the streets blocked for the motorcade? He’d have to take the northern canal all the way around.”
Scarlett relaxed slightly.
Her dad furrowed his brow. “That’s a shame. Perhaps we can all go visit him after the festivities.” He gave Scarlett a pointed look.
She stared at him. Is he serious? It was as if he’d forgotten their conversation in his office.
Even if he only wanted them to be friendly, he was prioritizing a political alliance over her feelings.
How could he ask her to visit him when she’d told him only an hour before that every fiber of her being needed to be away from Alastair?
The thought of going to the Spencer house after the parade filled her with dread.
She bit her lip, fighting for diplomatic words, and blew out a breath.
“It’ll be late by then.”
“It won’t take that long,” said her father, a hard glint in his eye. “Not if we go straightaway.” He wasn’t backing down.
“We literally just spoke about this, Dad. What part of ‘he doesn’t really love me, and I’m dying to get out of Soleil’ did you not understand? I don’t want to see him right now. I’m sorry, Elestine, for having to say this in front of you.”
Her father took a step backward as if her words were a physical blow.
Elestine looked between them uncomfortably.
“Scarlett, I don’t mean to overstep, but Alastair told me he regrets some of the things he said yesterday.
I know he does love you very much, and he’d never have intentionally hurt you.
I know he wants to apologize as soon as he can and make things up to you.
There doesn’t have to be an immediate engagement. ”
The corners of Scarlett’s mouth turned down, and a tension headache hit her out of nowhere—a result of all her repressed rage.
Alastair had told his mother enough for Elestine to know he’d behaved badly, but Scarlett doubted he’d told her how badly he’d behaved.
He’d tried to destroy her self-worth, spoken as if he owned her, and implied her only value was as a partner to him and his ambitions.
No, she definitely didn’t want to see him again today.
Her dad nodded. “Yes, it would be good to clear the air, dear. Relationships require work. Remember, you’ll be working together for decades.”
Their refusal to acknowledge her feelings pushed against her skull until the pressure exploded, scattering her thoughts like broken glass. It was time to move to a delay tactic.
“I’ll consider it during the drive,” she said finally. It was the best she could do with both of them staring at her. She could talk to her father while they rode in the car. She needed time before she was ready to see Alastair again.
“Excellent,” said her father as if she’d just agreed.
She stared at him, full of disbelief. Had he always been this unyielding?
She’d thought speaking her truth would be enough, but her father wasn’t accepting her honesty.
A dark part of Scarlett was gleeful as she imagined wordlessly leaving after the parade.
That would be one way to avoid continuing their argument.
They made their way onto the circular driveway.
A row of gnarled oaks surrounded the manicured lawn, but they didn’t keep the sun from beating down on Scarlett’s face, exacerbating her headache.
A frazzled-looking woman with a clipboard led Scarlett and her father to the armored car they’d be riding in.
Two soldiers in fatigues and sunglasses were already seated in the front.
Scarlett climbed into the back seat, and her father slid in after her.
“Let’s roll our windows down,” said her dad. “I want to be able to wave at the crowd.”
The eternal politician.
“It’s absolutely boiling today.” Scarlett pressed the button to lower her window and sighed as a hot breeze immediately kissed her face.
As they sat side by side waiting for the cars to begin moving, Scarlett contemplated how to tell her dad off for how he’d double-crossed her with Elestine. Before she could say anything, though, he grasped her hand from his side of the back seat.
“I don’t think I’ve said this yet in the pre-speech frenzy, but you look lovely today, darling. You’re the spitting image of your mother when I met her.” He pulled his hand away and rested it in his lap.
“Thank you.” The unexpected compliment dispelled some of her anger.
Scarlett was silent as they moved slowly around the circular driveway in front of Parliament, police on motorcycles flanking their vehicles.
She went over their route in her mind. She’d ridden in the motorcade every year for as far back as she could remember.
The route was always the same: The procession would move along Prince’s Street, past the University of Soleil, and over the Cobalt Canal Bridge to the business district, as well as through the southern portion of the city via Elysian Street, where the army was based.
There, they’d all lay wreaths on Soleil’s Great War monument, the obelisk outside the army headquarters.
All in all, she was trapped with her father for several more hours.
Scarlett’s gaze lingered on Elestine alone in the car ahead, and she said a quick prayer of thanks to the Goddess that Alastair had stayed home. She was going to avoid seeing him today even if it meant running off into the night.
The citizens of Soleil waved flags and called out to the procession in excitement as the line of cars appeared.
Today, Remembrance Day parties would be taking place all over the city.
Many of them would begin right after the motorcade.
People waved at their vehicle when they spotted the distinctive Soleil flags on its headlights, and Scarlett and her father smiled and waved back.
Scarlett turned toward her father. “I need space from Alastair for a while. I’m not going to his house today.”
He didn’t look away from the crowds, and his bland, public-facing demeanor didn’t change. “I understand why you don’t want to see him, but it’s better to not let things deteriorate too much. You’ll need to be able to work with him when you both join Parliament.”
Scarlett’s anger bubbled to the surface once more. “Isn’t it okay to put my private life first sometimes? You married Mum for love, didn’t you? Even though it wasn’t advantageous.” He’d once told her the story of how he’d defied his father to marry her mum, and she wanted him to tell her again.
He didn’t hesitate. “I loved your mother completely. It caused a huge falling-out between me and my parents when I told them I wanted to be with her, but I was happy to fight for her. Of course your private life should ultimately come first, but I hardly think it’s a big ask for you to be courteous to Alastair.
You don’t have the option of never speaking to him again. ”
“Dad, he said awful things to me. It’s like he thinks he owns me because he took my—”
“WE LOVE YOU!” a young woman holding a baby shouted at them from behind the barrier. “Lord Heroux!”
Scarlett sighed. Maybe the universe was trying to prevent her from telling her father how she lost her V-card, even if it did illustrate her point.
“Scarlett, we love you too!” called an old woman.
Scarlett turned away from her father to smile brightly at her.
They both continued waving to all their well-wishers. Sweat beaded on Scarlett’s forehead. The breeze had ceased, and her blazer was trapping the heat.
“Dad—”
“We’ll finish this conversation later, okay?”
“Fine,” said Scarlett. But I’m going home—
A whoosh of air sliced through the car, and wet warmth sprayed across the side of her face.
Deafening bangs in quick succession assaulted Scarlett’s eardrums as the car veered left and slammed to a stop.
Her stomach tightened into a knot as her head whipped around, searching for the source of the sound.
She touched her cheek. Red coated her fingertips.
Scarlett’s window went up. The soldier in the passenger seat yelled at them as the driver hit the gas.
“Lord Heroux, Miss Heroux, get on the floor of the car!”
Dread overtook Scarlett as she reached for her father.
He was slumped over, his face hidden. Her hands shook.
Screams from the crowd grew louder, but Scarlett heard them as if from a distance as she stared at her father.
Was he unconscious? She had to help him.
They could get him to a doctor who could help.
Her heart thudded in her chest. There was so much red covering the back seat of the car.
Where had it all come from? Was it blood?
It couldn’t be. Was he shot? Her father had been shot.
She looked down, and it was like staring at herself from some faraway place.
She’d been thoroughly sprayed with red. It was stark across her white skirt.