Page 108 of Tears Like Acid

“Sit down or it’s military school for the lot of you,” I order through gritted teeth.

This threat gets through to them. One by one, they flop down on the chairs.

“Not you,” I tell Johan just as he’s about to take a seat. “You clean up that mess on the counter.”

His mouth twists into a frown. “Why me?”

“You’re the oldest. You should’ve taken responsibility and stopped this.” I walk to the table, pinning him with a stare. “And I don’t need a reason.”

“That’s fucking unfair,” he mutters.

I get into his personal space. I’m not his frail great-grandfather. I hope he takes me on, because I’d love to teach him his place. “What did you say?”

He sneers. “Nothing.”

“They’re uncontrollable,” Heidi says, looking miserable.

“I’ve got it from here.” I indicate the door with a flick of my head. “You can take care of your other duties.”

She looks between me and the children. After a moment’s hesitation, she leaves the room.

I motion at the ruined cake. “Who did this?”

The three of them all point at each other as they say in unison, “Him.”

“Fine.” I narrow my eyes. “All of you are punished.”

Sophie jerks her head up. “I didn’t do anything.”

Johan steps up, putting himself between me and his sister. “It’s true.” He puffs out his chest. “It’s our fault. She didn’t join the food fight.”

“Sophie,” I say. “Go to Heidi.”

She hops from her chair with Beatrice in her hands, but she doesn’t budge.

“I said go to Heidi,” I repeat in a stern but gentle tone.

“Are you going to hurt them?” she asks in a small voice.

The question throws me off kilter. Is that what she thinks? My father was strict, but he never laid a hand on me. “Of course not.”

I only realize how much she trusts me in that moment, when she nods and walks with a bowed head from the room. I follow her with my gaze, the severity of her confidence in me sinking in. It’s vital that I never betray her trust lest she loses faith in me.

Johan lifts his chin. “How are you going to punish us?” His dark eyes simmer with contempt as he bravely stands his ground. “The cane or the whip?”

“What?” I look at him, even more taken aback. “Neither.”

I’d never do that to a child. But I was ready to do that to my wife. I did it to her. I punished her for things she hadn’t done and things she’s yet to do to me, and that makes me worse than a monster.

Johan’s lip curls. “What then? Your fists? You think I’m scared?”

I can’t listen to this any longer. “You’re all grounded. You’ll stay in the guards’ quarters until after the weekend.”

“Without going out?” the youngest, Guillaume exclaims.

I take in his unruly auburn curls. The color reminds me so much of my mother and Adeline’s hair that my chest caves, trapping a painful breath in my lungs. “You’re limited to the yard, but more mischief from any of you and even the yard will be off limits to everyone.”

“You can’t do that,” Étienne, the middle brother, says with his arms pressed tightly at his sides.

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