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“Yes.”

“So you loved her.”

Another laugh. “Oh, Nathaniel.” He shakes his head slowly. “Surely you’re not so naïve.”

I say nothing.

The heat on my face has changed. It isn’t embarrassment now. It’s something heavier, something I can’t name.

“My marriage to your mother joined the Vexley family with the Ashborne family,” he says. “It consolidated assets, influence, political reach, and old money.”

Elena Ashborne.

My mother’s maiden name.

“It was an excellent arrangement,” Father says. “One of the better deals I ever made.”

A deal.

My mother is a deal?

I stare at him.

“I suppose I learned to love her in certain ways,” he says. “She gave me strong sons. She understands her role. She rarely embarrasses me. That’s more than many wives manage.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“That you think that.”

“She has the luxury of believing what comforts her.” He steeples his fingers. “When you take a wife, you can expect the same. Not love. Strategy. Alliance. Bloodlines. A name that opens doors and strengthens your position. You will choose your wife because she moves you up.” He pauses. “Never down.”

I flinch.

Father notices.

Of course he does.

“You may take whatever entertainment you wish along the way,” he says. “A man of your station has certain privileges. But don’t confuse appetite with destiny.”

My stomach feels strange. Too full and hollow at the same time.

“Love,” he says with faint disgust, “is the pauper’s only asset. You aren’t a pauper, Nathaniel. You’re a prince.”

A prince.

I look around my father’s throne. Clearly he considers himself a king, so why wouldn’t he think of me as a prince?

“You’re entitled to what’s rightfully yours,” he says. “Women. Wealth. Influence. Pleasure. Power. But entitlement without discipline is how fools lose kingdoms. Every move you make must move you up. Never down.”

I nod because I know he expects it. “Yes, sir.”

He turns back to the papers on his desk.

I’ve been dismissed.

Fuck.