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Here and now, I swear to myself to pull my shit together, if for no other reason than I refuse to let my father have the upper hand ever again.
Sweat beads on my palms and the back of my neck, and this time it has nothing to do with the alcohol literally leaking from my pores. I take a deep breath, willing myself not to lose my shit and break something.
Without waiting for my father to finish explaining the rest of his plan, I go on the defensive. “There are other ways to make alliances…money, or threats. You love threats, try that.”
“We’re past threats.” My father barks. “We need friends at least as strong as whatever the Capulets will get out of using Juliette. Do you remember Rosaline Hathaway?”
Suddenly, my phone is burning a hole in my pocket. I know where this is going, and it’s like I’m standing on the tracks watching a train barrel toward me. “...Yes.”
My father takes out his phone and opens something, like he’s reading a list. “She’s pretty, well-liked in the community, enjoys tennis and volunteers at the local animal shelter.”
She’s also calculating, ambitious and borderline sociopathic.We used to have a lot in common.
“Rosaline’s reputation is almost on par with Capulet’s daughter, and her connections are arguably better. You’ll marry her and the Hathaways will vote to support us should Emrys make any rash decisions.”
I splutter. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Father. She might not want—”
He looks me up and down. “Make her want to. For the gods sake, I didn’t think you would need dating advice. That always seemed to be one area you excelled at.”
I open and close my mouth, unable to form coherent thoughts. “Are we even compatible?”
Every child in the Order has their entire astrological chart mapped out the moment they are born. Often, a reader is brought in within hours of a birth, and sometimes marriage contracts are drawn up that day if there’s already another Order child who is a good match.
I had a reading as a child, and as my father has loved to remind me over the years, there wasn’t a single good match anywhere in the Order. Like the gods were laughing at me, telling me that I was, in fact, too fucked up for anyone.
I look warily at him, unable to believe he isn’t taking this opportunity to bring up this old wound.
My father’s gaze darts to the side. Ha, I’ve got him on something. “She’s…close enough,” Dad hedges.
Translation: she’s not a match and my Dad no longer cares. I don’t care either, but I still refuse to let this happen.
“No,” I blurt out.
“What do you mean, ‘No,’” my father drawls.
“Exactly what it sounds like. I don’t need to marry Rosaline Hathaway or anyone else so you can be head of the council. That’s absurd.”
His lip curls. “Oh? And you’re so different from every other heir in this community? Better than Juliette Capulet?”
My mind darts to the book in the golf cart. “You are not special. You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake.”
I want to laugh. I’m not special—not in the slightest. I’m nothing, certainly not better than Etta, but not for the reasons my father means. She’s infinitely better than me. She’s the sun, while I will never be more than Icarus.
Still, neither of us deserve to be used this way, and I won’t allow it. I could threaten to leave. To abandon the Order...but I know I can’t. Not until we find out what happened to my sister.
“Because you just said that it wouldn’t be hard to provoke Tyberius,” I say. “So, we won’t need alliances if the Capulets are gone.”
I hold my breath as Father considers. “Fine. Get Tyberius Capulet to attack you in public before Juliette is engaged, or you’ll marry Rosaline Hathaway by Yule.”
ChapterFour
ROMAN
The thumping bass from Pierce’s stereo reverberates through me and the blue light from my phone blurs as I stare down at the screen without really seeing it. My phone vibrates in my hand, and I have to fight the temptation to throw it out the window onto the dark, winding back road.
“What’s she saying?” Bennet asks, looking vaguely nervous, like he knows I’m this close to technological homicide.
“I don’t care,” I say flatly. “You respond.”
