“I was so worried about you.” He gasped. “When they evacuated everyone from the cathedral, and you weren’t there... I nearly tore the rubble apart.”
The stone of guilt threatened to rip the fabric of Poppy’s heart apart. She had barely given any thought to her wedding day. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m sorry I scared you. I wasn’t thinking straight. All I wanted was to get away from Richard. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know,” her father soothed, stroking her hair. “You’ve never meant any harm, Poppy. I’ve always been hard on you, perhaps harder than was necessary, at times. But I think you know that, don’t you? Come, let’s sit and talk. We have much to discuss, and I fear...” The hand that leaned on the cane began to tremble.
Poppy immediately helped him to his chair before retaking her earlier seat on the other side of the desk. He took a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed at the beads of sweat that had appeared on his forehead.
“I didn’t mean to alarm you,” she repeated, forcing her voice to be stern. “But I need you to know that I’m serious: I will not marry Richard, and I fully intend to succeed you as vicereine.”
“I know,” her father said. “I’ve given this matter a lot of thought. I was particularly affected by what you said to me, about your being equal to any natural heir I might have had. Because you are right, Poppy. You have always been my child, regardless of where you came from. I have told you that my decision to adopt you was highly unpopular. Everyone told me that you would never be a true daughter to me. In fact, the Imperial Family even offered me a ward, so that I might have a true heir.”
She flinched. She had known that the Imperial Family had never approved of her, but she had not known that they had attempted to replace her. Would her father use their disapproval as a reason to choose a different successor? Was he going to say that he had selected a candidate from Welkland, instead?
“If I gave the office to another,” her father continued slowly, “I would be proving them right. I’d be a hypocrite to insist for twenty-one years that you were legitimate enough to be my child, but not legitimate enough for the viceroy’s office. It would be a betrayal of our relationship. This is your home, your inheritance, and it cannot be substituted by anything else, just as I could not substitute you with another child.”
Poppy twisted her hands in her skirt, not trusting her own ears. “What are you saying?” she asked, slow and cautious. She didn’t dare hope for anything.
“I’ve made you my heir,” her father said. “I’ve written an amendment to my will and had it notarized. Not every lord has agreed yet, but once I’ve guaranteed their cooperation, we will vote on it immediately. I will make them all see reason,” he added darkly.
Hot tears sprang to Poppy’s eyes. She ran to the other side of the desk, bending down to embrace her father. His arms came around her in a reciprocal gesture. For a moment, they stood like that, each holding the other.
“I know you’ll continue the Sutherland legacy faithfully,” her father said, so quietly she almost missed it. “I put every effort into civilizing you. You are one of us, of that I have no doubt.”
Poppy tensed. Though once his belief in her wholehearted change would have gratified her beyond words, she took no pleasure in it now. His embrace became uncomfortable with the sharp corners of his legacy now between them, the bones of his victims poking at her conscience. How could she love someone who had been responsible for so much suffering? How could he be so warm to her, and yet so cold to the plight of her people? Did he truly love her, or was his pride only for the civilized woman he believed he had created?
She withdrew uncertainly, opening her mouth?—but then the door flew open with a bang, scattering her next words. She spun around. Her heart plummeted when she saw who the intruder was.
“Richard? How?—how did you get in here?”
He looked more disheveled than her father?—ivory face pale, golden hair wild, police uniform creased. “The butler let me in.” Then he bared his teeth at her father. “I knew you’d make her your heir, Sutherland. For all your lies, you couldn’t lead me astray.”
He glared at Richard. “I already told you, boy. It is well within my rights to choose my own heir.”
“And I toldyou,” Richard retorted, “she’s not what you think she is. She’s been working with drug smugglers for seven years, even going so far as to fake her own kidnapping to extort you.”
His words struck Poppy in the chest, winding her. “That’s not true!” She turned to her father and placed a hand on his arm. “He’s lying.”
“She’s the one who’s lying,” Richard said. “I have testimony, proof from various sources.”
Richard pulled a wad of folded papers from his breast pocket, presumably the same documents he had sent Theodore.
“Father?—”
Her veins ran cold as her father silenced her with a look, taking the pages. She swallowed hard as he unfolded them slowly. Richard smiled like a cat with a songbird. Each second that her father spent reading over the pages agonized her. The sound of the paper shuffling chafed against her skin.
“Father,” she pleaded, no longer caring if she appeared impudent, “I didn’t do it. I promise.”
“The proof is in front of you, Your Grace.” Richard spread his arms wide, like a showman. “What are you going to believe? The flimsy word of your daughter, or the cold, hard facts?”
“Not facts, but falsehoods. Those documents have been doctored,” she insisted, her voice rising an octave. “Richard only wants the office of the viceroy. He would accuse the emperor himself of treason if he thought it would get him anywhere. There’s no lie too low for him.”
“You’re one to talk about lying with the low,” Richard sneered. “Half your Second Family allies are only helping you for the chance to plant an heir on you. I wonder if they’d still want you if they knew there was a chance that they might be raising a mongrel pup instead.”
The lecherous meaning behind his words made her body flush with rage. “The Jackal and Inever?—”
“Enough,” her father barked. He tossed the documents onto the desk. “I’ve made my decision.”
Richard and Poppy both swiveled their heads toward the duke. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears. What her father had decided would speak volumes about their relationship: Either he had meant what he had said earlier, about her complete transformation, or he would forsake her now.
