Page 21 of Legacy of Succession

“I learned a lot about fine arts and history from my father. I guess choosing digital art was my way of fighting against what he expected.”

“You and your father seem to do that a lot.”

“Can we get off the conversation of my father, please. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.” He shuts down the conversation with no room for me to continue it, in any way.

“Sorry.” I pick up my glass and drink the last mouthful of brandy. He holds the bottle up to offer more.

“No, thank you. My father never allowed me to drink a lot. It’s probably best I don’t have too much.”

“Did your father allow you to do anything?” he enquires with genuine interest.

“Not really. I had my friend, Tamara, my maid’s daughter. I was allowed out once to a restaurant with her. But I had to have a bodyguard with me, and even then, my father called us home before dessert when he found out that several male friends of Tamara’s had arrived at the place we were eating.” I pause and go silent. I’m trying to find a good memory of my father. Currently, they’re all tainted with the hate I now feel toward him. “He once allowed me to go to an art sale. He brought a Van Gogh picture there. It was a wonderful experience, even if I did almost go into shock when he offered twenty million for the picture.”

“Twenty million? That’s a lot.”

“Yes, you would think that he’d have it locked away never to see the light of day, but he displays in our dining room, sometimes.” I laugh again, and he smiles at me. The conversation we’re having is natural and not strained, but I still feel nervous because of the situation I’m in.

“I’ll have all your art books returned, so you can read more about the history of paintings.”

My good mood is sullied. He's just reminded me that I’m a slave here. I can do nothing that he, himself, doesn’t allow. I sit a little more upright in my chair, and my manicured nails grip the seat.

“I’m to be here a long time, then?”

“A while longer.”

“And then?”

“Depends on my choice.”

“So my fate, my life, rests in your hands?” I purse my lips together, and I can feel the anger rising in me again.

“It does.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t get it. You tell me you don’t want to marry, but yet you continue with this,” ?I hold my hands out? “whatever it is. Put a stop to it. Let us go.”

He sighs heavily.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's my fate, just as it’s yours. It’s my birthright, nothing will ever change that. Please, Victoria, just accept what’s happening, and it’ll all be much easier for you.” He gets to his feet while speaking and holds his hand out to me. I look down at his hand as though it’s severely infected with all manner of diseases. He actually expected me just to accept this.

“I see it, now. You’re a coward. That’s why you go along with this. You may be resigned to the legacy of your succession.” ?I get to my feet and push past him with surprising strength and head to the door? “I never will be, though. You and your father have started a war. One you won’t win.”

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