Chapter Seven
Greginald
We arrived at the Faust estate just in time, not a minute early and, much to my dismay, without time to obtain coffee on the way or dawdle. But, we’d solidified our union. No doubt about it. The bond between us hummed with both pleasure and satisfaction.
I moved to knock on the door, but Esmeray opened it without a word, inviting me in without a moment’s hesitation.Right. His father’s home.
The fact Esmeray felt so comfortable doing so brought me a modicum of comfort. Esmeray, for his part, marched forward, calling out, “Father! I’m here.”
“You’re on time.” His father’s comment came from a side room, a study, I guessed. The scent of old books drew me in as I followed Esmeray’s clipped step and stiff posture. The pride that welled in me needed a swift kick as I appreciated the slight lilt to his well-fucked step.
“I am.”
“Being late would have been excusable this time.” Draevus Faust stood from an old judge’s desk and stretched, his eyes full of questions and equal dismay.
“I like being on time.” Esmeray opened his arms and fell into his father’s embrace, breathing deeply. The poverty that Esmeray had lived in and his humble dwellings I’d heard about didn’t match the opulence around us. Marble floors and vaulted ceilings carried ancient scents and deep history as well as notes of deeper pockets.
“And your mate?” Draevus turned his attention to me, gaze flicking to the side, presumably at our shadows. I spared them aglance and found them to be behaving, if not grinning wide with jack-o-lantern smiles. Creepy, but otherwise behaved.
“Punctuality is structure and order, both of which are powerful things.” I offered my best smile but only earned a snort. Draevus had no more words to spare for me as he gushed over Esmeray.
“I’ve been house hunting. Calamisis can be persuaded to go back to hell, and I could purchase his manor for you, Esmeray. I truly wish for you to be closer. I cannot bear to lose you. Not like your father. I knew it was ahorrididea to let you move out.” Draevus all but stroked his son’s head patronizingly, his voice holding a tone of command to it.
I remained silent. Whatever Draevus commanded, I likely would have no say in.
“Father, we’re fine where we are. He has a lovely home.” Esmeray pulled away from the hug and moved to his father’s desk wordlessly, gathering papers to eye them and sort them as a force of habit.
“No staff, no—” Draevus leaned against a bookshelf, watching Esmeray sort through things with a crimson eye out for anything odd.
“I have a chef if that counts and a few sprites that tidy things,” I added helpfully. It didn’t impress him.
“I insist, Esmeray.” Draevus didn’t give me a moment’s thought.
“His chef cannot leave the place, and I would sorely miss never eating Vincenzo’s cooking again.” Esmeray frowned as he thumbed apart some documents and stared at them then the clock, before he fished out his phone with a fumble.
“Father, what is this?”
“Some papers that were served this morning during all the hullabaloo?” He shrugged it off before Esmeray pushed a sheetinto our gaze. It was a court date change. Draevus took the sheet as his eyes flared to life. “Gods alive…”
“We need to go, now.” Esmeray flailed his arms as he gathered one thing and another. “We have thirty-eight minutes.”
“Sixteen minutes to the courthouse,” Draevus said, wheeling about to a wall rack to pluck a set of rather glossy keys.
“I apologize. Am I missing something?” I glanced about as Esmeray pushed the paperwork into my hands. I needed to be in court. In… Thirty-seven minutes.
“I don’t have any of his papers. Father, can we file a motion to ext—” Esmeray halted when Draevus shook his head. “We’d needed to file that two days ago. What is he playing at?”
Draevus waved us over, and we followed as Esmeray typed in his phone, adding my home as a stop along the way and swearing. “I need your paperwork… You keep originals and copies, right? I don’t know where my documents were. I had them when—”
Draevus and I flinched as his face paled and he shook his head. Recalling one’s death wasn’t a pleasant thing, I imagined.
“Easy. The memory is fresh,” I said, moving to reach over and clasp his hand at the same time Draevus did. He gave me a territorial glare that spoke volumes of his affection for his son. Affection I don’t believe I ever had.
My biological parents had abandoned me, and my adoptive ones had used me as an accessory.Look how generous we are for adopting a mongrim!
They’d used that term until their later years when they understood how hurtful it had been.
“Deep breaths. We’ll have to wing it on memory and…” Draevus glanced around and pulled out a thick file. “I have some of the documents. Why specifically you, though? You were only named as one of twenty litigants, and that was far down the list.”
