Andrei’s eyes linger on me for just a second. I look away, hoping my father doesn’t notice.
When Andrei leaves, Benicio sighs. “Your mother has the same effect on people.”
“What effect?”
“Draws their attention like a flame.”
I duck, my cheeks red. “I don’t want to,” I say quietly.
“You never have, have you?”
Curious at my father’s calm tone, I look up at him.
His eyes study me. I definitely favor my mother in terms of looks, but I can see how my father and I are related. The high, proud cheekbones, for one. I have his nose, arching and patrician.
Have I noticed the gray in his hair before?
Or the scars that feather out from one side of his head?
“You are quiet.”
“I have nothing to say,” I murmur.
“Nothing to say, or nothing to say to me?”
I don’t answer that question.
My father sighs and looks over the table. “You know, I would let you have a choice, if you wanted it.”
That makes me bite back an acidic laugh. “Excuse me?”
“In the suitors. You could tell me who you prefer.”
Absolutely not.
I look at my father. “Do you remember when I was six, you kidnapped Mamá and me, and you kept us in your house that was on the plains?”
He grins. “Ah yes. I loved that time.”
Of course he did. “You told me you would buy me a horse.”
“Anything for my princess.”
“It was a nice horse. I think they call the color palomino.”
“Gold,” he grins. “For my golden girl.”
“Then, when Mamá and I escaped, you sent its hide to us.”
His face falls.
I stand. “I would not tell you my choice, even if I made one. I will choose whatever you want. There will be no horse hides on my conscience. I will agree to this marriage. I will participate in your farce. But do not think that for one second, you can pretend to be a father.”
“Marisol, I…”
I hold up my hand. “You have done nothing but hurt me. This is no different. I will not be manipulated by you, Benicio.”
I can tell the use of his given name instead of “father” or “Papao” irks him, because his eyes flash. “You are my child. I am free to do with you as I wish.”