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“I’m older than you. I was around when your father was at the peak of his career. He had everything. Everyone’s respect and appreciation. You have the same talent as him. He could have risen to the top. If he wanted to, he could have become president.”

Rane glanced at Cowes. “I know the story.” His father was known in the Olickie community for all the wrong reasons. He could calm any situation and had a natural rapport with everyone. Everyone wanted to be like him, and everyone wanted to be around him when he was considered a success.

Rane had grown up seeing his father showered with admiration and respect when he towed the line.

It all changed when he began to withdraw. He’d disappear for hours, and no one would know where he was. That was until the day he revealed he’d been working on a series of sculptures. His love of art was his ruination.

“Your father could have had it all. Your life would have been so different, as would your mother’s.”

Rane grimaced. Cowes was dragging him to that grim knowledge. “She made her choices.”

“She had no choice. Your father became a drifter. After he discovered sculpting, he never stuck at anything. He abandoned diplomatic meetings before they were finished and let things collapse around him, all for his obsession with his...” Cowes waved a hand in the air as if the ability to describe the stunning art Rane’s father had produced eluded him.

“He couldn’t help it. I don’t agree that what he did was right. When you have created something, it’s hard to ignore. It calls to you.”

Cowes’s gaze turned steely. “Which is why you are a risk for me. I see the way your mind wanders. You know what happens when these meetings go wrong. You cannot be like your father.”

“I’m not like him. I’m here, and I’m doing the work.”

“Your heart is not in it.”

“Whose heart can be in one of those tedious meetings?”

“It’s the outcome that is important. You must have a passion for peace. You must want to see an end to the wars that have gone on for so long.”

Rane closed his eyes for a second. “Of course.”

“Stick with us. Stay focused. That’s all I ask. Put aside this unhealthy interest of yours before you go too far.”

Rane frowned. His interest wasn’t unhealthy. Damn, it was the only thing that made him feel alive some days.

“Your mother blames your father’s artistic streak as the reason he strayed.”

That was a low blow. Rane wasn’t prone to violence but felt an urge to punch Cowes. “There’s no proof he ever strayed.”

“There’s always truth behind the rumors. Your poor mother could only take so much.”

“I noticed you were quick enough to comfort her.”

“As a friend,” Cowes said darkly. “Your mother was once a respected woman. That was taken from her when your father lost his job and his position in Olickie society. Remind me again why that happened.”

“Because we’re an uptight, static, conservative society who hates change.”

Cowes shook his head. “Because we have a particular path. He took a wrong turn and refused to come back.”

“He took a path he knew would make him happy.” Rane gestured to the paintings. He wasn’t like his father. He had everything under control.

“I see too much of him in you.”

“So you should. I’m his son.” Rane sighed. “I do my job. My art is a hobby.”

“For now. That’s how it started with him. Think of your mother. She cannot handle another humiliation. You would not want her to shut you out of her life as well.”

“She left my father because she was humiliated. I’d never do that to her.”

“If she discovers what you’re doing, her humiliation will grow. A proud female can only take so much. You have to consider other individuals here. This isn’t all about you.”

“I never said it was.”