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“Two,” Alastair clarified. “Two years.”
“Even still.” Cassiel shifted in his seat. “I approve, Alastair. I saw her when she came before the council, you know. And she has… a fire inside her. Power. I think she is a good match for you. A good match for my son.”
Something softened in Alastair’s chest. His father approved of Fey. Liked Fey. It made him feel… good.
Huh.
“Thank you,” Alastair said, and he meant it. He’d never sought his father’s approval, never cared much whether it was given or withheld. But, somehow, hearing his father voice his approval of his love for Fey… it felt nice.
Maybe he was being too hard on him. Maybe his father had been trying, in his own way, to connect with him over the years. They hadn’t always hated each other, after all. Maybe his father did want to connect with him, want to know him and his life.
Cassiel leaned forward, placing a hand on Alastair’s shoulder. And it felt like just the right amount of parental affection. Alastair almost smiled.
Almost.
“I think we should talk seriously about marriage,” Cassiel said.
Too shocked to do anything else, Alastair barked out a laugh. “Marriage?” he repeated incredulously. “You must be joking…”
“Not at all,” Cassiel said, staring into his eyes. Goddess damn him, he was serious, wasn’t he? “I think it’s the obvious next step for the two of you, don’t you agree?”
Alastair shook his head slowly from side to side. “No, no. Fey and I haven’t discussed marriage. I don’t even know if she wants to get married.”
“Of course she does,” Cassiel said, sitting back with a bemused smile on his face. “All women do, Alastair. Some are just a little more obvious about it than others. But it’s something they all want, at the end of the day.”
Alastair laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s even remotely true. I think you’re way off themark on that one.”
Marriage? He hadn’t thought about it, he realized. He supposed if it was something Fey wanted…
But why? What would even be the point? It was an archaic ritual, one rarely practiced anymore, and certainly not one their Faction put much stake in. That had always been a Witch thing, and even then, it hadn’t been in vogue for centuries. Alastair didn’t need a mindless ceremony and a ring binding Fey to him. He loved her, heart and soul. They would spend the rest of their lives together, he had no doubt about that.
Marriage just felt unnecessary, given that. It felt insignificant compared to how he felt about her.
“It’s important,” Cassiel continued, “to acknowledge her ancestry. Consider it a way to pay homage to her ancestors. Wars were once fought over marriage, you know.”
“Oh please, her Faction knows so little about their ancestors, Father. I doubt they even remember that. And it’s not something she’s ever mentioned. I really don’t think marriage is something she’s even thought about.”
“Well, maybe you should be thinking about it, then.” Cassiel said, voice dropping slightly. “After all, once she becomes queen?—”
“Fey doesn’t want to be queen,” Alastair interrupted, frowning.
Cassiel waved away his words. “Of course she does. And she will, trust me. There’s enough chatter about it around the city to guarantee it will happen, eventually. Sooner rather than later, most likely. And once she does become queen, well… you would want to have some sort of contract binding the two of you, wouldn’t you? Something that would ensure you take the throne as her equal, and not just… not just a consort, or some such thing.”
So that was it, Alastair thought, sitting back until his back hit the chair’s cushion, a familiar feeling of disgust forming in his gut. That was what this was all about, wasn’t it?
His father wasn’t interested in Fey at all. This wasn’t some visit to bring her into the family, to get to know her. To spend time with her.
This was another chance for him to put a Salvatore on the throne—to finally guarantee his lineage turned royal. This was just another path that he started three hundred years ago when he’d crowned himself the Vampire King.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” Alastair said, stunned. “I can’t fucking believe I almost fell for your shit again.”
“And what on Earth are you talking about this time, Alastair?” Cassiel asked in a frustrated tone.
“Fey doesn’t want to be queen, Father,” Alastair said, and when Cassiel opened his mouth to argue, Alastair spoke over him. “And even if she did, I don’t want to be king. I don’t want a fucking contract ensuring that we’re equals. Because we’re not.”
He stood, staring down at his father, and bared his teeth.
“In every possible fucking way, I am not her equal,” he continued. “She is better than I am on every level. More powerful than me. Stronger than me. And if you only see her as a means to an end? If you can only see her as a way to get what you want, what you’ve always fucking wanted, then stay the fuck out of our lives.”
