Page 29 of The Queen
“Hmm.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, hmm.”
Wonderful. Dear old dad is being his usual helpful self. He is a firm believer in learning by doing. It’s how I got my scar.
Tarquin leans against the liquor cabinet, arms crossed. “Well?” His voice is steady, but I catch the undercurrent of defiance beneath.
Dad’s gaze narrows. “What do you make of her?”
“You mean Eliza.”
He glares at me. “Who else?”
“She is a true Queen. She has proved she is strong physically and mentally. She is taking the hits, dealing with them, and moving on.”
“Lila Foster is a problem.”
“No shit.” Feeling the old familiar itch of annoyance, I hold back on the attitude as much as humanly possible. “But Eliza has our loyalty. She’s earned it.” I stand firm, making sure he understands the gravity behind my words.
“Remember who you’re talking to, Raphael,” Dad warns, his tone as hard as steel. “Loyalty can be a double-edged sword.”
“Only if you’re on the wrong side of it,” Tarquin says, his casual attitude offsetting the tension in his jaw.
Dad studies us both, and there is a calculating look in his eyes that’s all too familiar. It’s not hard to see what we will look like in twenty-odd years. He can’t deny us, that’s for damn sure. His scowl is the same look that saw us through years of harsh lessons and high expectations. He’s weighing us, measuring the conviction in our voices against the memories of the past.
“What are you really worried about?” I ask, pinning him down in a way that he both dislikes and respects.
“Power shifts,” Dad says, with that edge to his voice that could slice through steel. “It changes things.”
The moment our father’s words hang in the air, I feel my chest tighten. “You worry about Eliza getting too strong?” I ask, leaning forward slightly.
He doesn’t answer.
“Eliza’s different.” Tarquin murmurs, but his eyes are sharp, hawk-like. “She’s not just taking over; she’s redefining the game.”
I nod, feeling that fire in my veins, the same one that flares whenever I think of her. “She’s got vision, and we’ve got her back.”
“She comes from two highly respected families.”
“And?”
“That means she can lead two highly respected families. Draw them together, form a tight alliance that will see the rest of us… less tight.”
And the penny drops. “I see.”
“Do you?” Dad’s lips press into a thin line, and for a second, I see something like respect—or maybe it’s understanding—flicker in his cold blue eyes.
“The Gannons were kicked out of the alliance for that very reason, weren’t they?”
“Hmm.”
The urge to roll my eyes is too strong, and it happens automatically.
“Your loyalty, first and foremost, is to me,” he says. “Not her and not Damon Hughes.”
“That’s not news. Carver’s first. But that doesn’t mean Eliza can’t trust us to have her back. She means more to us than a power grab.”
