“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 naïve 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.
