No entourage, no assistants.
It’s hot in there, stifling.
‘Take a seat, Julian,’ he directs in a distracted murmur.Lachlan stands at the side of the chair.They both wait in silence until the old man is ready.The old man sets his pen down, looks up.‘Have you no greeting for your father?’
Jules crosses his arms.‘Hi.’
Alistair surveys him with unnerving interest.‘Why do you think I’m here?’
‘It’s not for me to know how you operate.’
Lachlan stays neutral.He can’t help him here, can’t steer him away from answers that will almost certainly end with Jules getting slapped by Lachlan’s own hand.Headstrong is an understatement when it comes to Jules.
‘Is that what I asked you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why do you think I’m here?’
‘Maybe you missed us both so much you couldn’tbearto be away?’Jules guesses, facetious in the extreme.Lachlan buries a wince.
Penhalyx’s eyes crease with displeasure.‘I felt certain we were past this.’
‘Past what?’
‘This wretched spectacle you’re staging to court attention.’
‘I don’t want attention.’
‘No?That’s certainly not what my head of household informs me,’ Alistair muses, tone light although his gaze flits onto Lachlan for a beat, who feels it like a gut punch.‘Tell me what you lack, Julian.’
‘Why?You don’t care.’
‘What you lack in this life I will provide, you know this.’
‘Because you don’t consider freedom and friendships essential.’
‘You have ample freedom and limitless resources.The type of “friendships” you seek to cultivate leave much to be desired, so Harker informed me last year.I must restrict you to this permitted sphere for now.’
‘Sphere?’Jules echoes with a bitter smile.‘You mean the fucking staff?’
‘Then who, precisely, should I permit near you?’Alistair asks mildly.‘Some vagrant dragged in from the street?Addicts?Grubby-handed teenagers from the slums?You are my son.You will always have a target on your back.I have explained this to you at least once a year since you were born.Your sister endures it with better grace, and she is an infant.’Alistair rises to stand, graceful as ever, walking around to face his window.‘To hear from my people what you have become places you so far beneath my expectations that disappointment no longer applies.I have been patient with you beyond all reason,’ Alistair says, gazing into the sunshine while his son sits in stifling shadows.‘Absurdly so.You are indulged, delusional, and weak.’He about turns.Lachlan braces himself.Jules swallows very subtly.‘I will summer here.’
It lands hard and hideous, steals the air from the room.
‘What?’Jules blurts out.
‘I will relocate staff to operate from the West Wing while in residence as well as hosting here until September.’
‘Father, please.’
‘You beg for independence, Julian, and yet you stray so far from strength in my absence.I am withdrawing what little latitude you were generously granted.Congratulations for proving exactly why you can’t be trusted with it.’
Jules stands quickly.‘Please, don’t.I was just doing it to—’
‘Towhat?’the old man demands sharply, and Lachlan realises he’s never actually seen him angry until now.‘Pray tell, whatmessylittle outcome did you foresee when you began this crusade?Look at you,’ he sneers, cold and cruel.‘My pretty boy, so handsome, so charming.None of them know how vapid you are, how weak, how empty.That you shine so well under harsh lights is your only saving grace from the fate you are tempting.I’ve no doubt your bodyguard’s clever friend could innovate where others failed to convince me of the suspension technology, and my life would be far easier for it.’
Lachlan has no idea what he’s talking about, hopes he neverdoes.
