Felix straightens immediately beside me but I don’t move.
My eyes drop to the keys as Father tosses them onto the table. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The stupid red cross mocks me as I take in the worn metal that is scarred from years of use. I was too young when I first saw it to understand the irony. Now I hate it. The theatrics. The symbolism.
He isn’t a religious man. He doesn’t kneel, or pray, doesn’t answer to anything higher than himself.
If Father is the devil, then why does he insist on playing God?
I scoff before I can stop myself, both Felix and Father snap their attention to me. Father is a bottomless pit of rage. Felix just looks worried.
“Care to share what’s funny, daughter?”
I lean back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other like we’re discussing the weather as I nod to the keys.
“Just admiring the theatrics,” I say lightly. “The red cross. Very on brand.”
Felix shifts beside me, but I don’t look at him. Father’s jaw tightens and I see his anger simmering there, like it always does around me. At some point, I stopped caring what he thought, stopped trying to please him. He always moved the goalposts anyway, so what was the point in aiming if I was always going to miss?
“You’ve always struggled with symbolism, Fae,” he says after a moment of silence.
“No,” I reply, meeting his stare head-on. “I understand it perfectly.”
The silence feels heavy between us as we play this stupid dance. His gaze flicks briefly to Felix before returning to me.
“That key,” he says, resting his palm over it possessively, “represents sacrifice, purity and rebirth.”
A chuckle escapes me again but this time Felix squeezes my knee as he tries to rein me in.
“Of course it does,” I snap. “You don’t believe in any of those things, Father. Well… except sacrifice.” My lip curls. “Maybe your disciples follow you blindly, but I see you.”
His eyes darken as something cold slides into place. I brace for the anger, steeling my spine as I lift my chin, ready for the slap that always follows. But just as Father steps forward, Felix moves first, pushing out of his chair and angling himself in front of me as he clears his throat.
“You asked for us, Father.”
“I did,” Father replies. “Sit down, Felix.”
Felix huffs and drops back into his chair as Father exhales heavily, like he’s burdened by all of this. He moves around the desk slowly like a predator circling its prey, I clench my hand so tightly my nails bite into my palm.
Stopping in front of me, he leans back against the desk.
“There are changes coming,” he says. “And you will both be involved.”
“Involved how?” My spine straightens, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a visible reaction. I’m met with silence as Father flicks his eyes to Felix.
“Involved how, sir?” Felix says through gritted teeth; my pulse kicks once, and hard, as I hold Father’s gaze.
“If this is another test,” I say evenly, “you should know I’m getting bored of passing them.”
Felix’s foot brushes mine, a silent warning that he doesn’t feel good about what Father has planned. I don’t know if it’s Roman’s confidence or the fact that, one way or another, Father will no longer control me, but I feel overly confident.
Until Father just… smiles.
It isn’t warm. It isn’t proud. It’s the kind of smile that belongs on a corpse and a shiver racks through my body. I can count on one hand how many times Father has smiled at me and it is never a good sign.
“This is not a test,” he says viciously. “It is an announcement.”
My head begins to pound as I watch the colour drain out of Felix’s face from the corner of my eye. My breathing picks up as Father crouches down in front of me.
“You will marry Fisher.”
