Page 53 of Take My Throne

My father picks up a large chunk of cheese and takes a bite, closing his eyes to savour the taste. “Oh my, but that’s good. Would you like to try some?” He holds it out to me, but when I hesitantly reach for it, he snatches it away. “Of course, you wouldn’t. You’re watching your figure, remember?”

“Yes, father.”

After that, there is nothing left to say, so I sit there, watching my father take his time to enjoy every single bite of cheese. Part of me wishes he’d choke on it, but then that would take away the fun of shooting him.

“Right, my child. How much of a tip shall we leave?” asks my father, when he is all done and the waiter brings the bill.

“At least 20%,” I reply. “We can afford it, after all, and the food was amazing.”

“It was all right,” my father says. “But the service was slow and not of the standard I would expect from a place like this. I think a couple of pounds is fair. It’s more than they deserve really, but leaving nothing would suggest we’d forgotten. This way, they understand their worth and will do better next time.”

“Two pounds?” I shake my head. “You can’t do that. The bill’s over a hundred pounds. That’s like a slap in the face.”

“Like I say. More than they deserve.”

My father scribbles his signature on the credit card slip. I peer across the table and see that he really did only tip a couple of pounds, but when the waiter sees the amount, he is as professional as ever, merely thanking my father for his generosity.

“Thank you for a delightful evening,” my father says as we walk out to his waiting car. “We must do it more often. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

“Me too,” I lie as the driver opens the door for us to climb in. “Maybe we can make it a regular Friday night event?”

“If it means you start to become more of an Archaic, then I think it would be a very good idea,” my father agrees. “Who knows? If I start seeing an improvement in your behaviour, I might even take you with me to Italy one day. There are some wonderful designer shops in Milan. If you maintain your slim figure, I’d be more than happy to let you loose with my credit card.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

When we are settled in our seats, the driver pulls away for the short journey home. My heart starts pounding. There are three possible routes he can take back, and one of my lovers is supervising each of them. We agreed on a suitable ambush site and whichever way we went, my father was going to find himself caught up in a roadblock. Once the car had stopped, guards from the other Houses were going to capture my father and hold him until the other two Houses had a chance to reach us. Then I was going to make my father pay for his countless crimes.

The moment of justice is almost here.

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