Page 183 of Vexatious Queen

Vicky didn’t want to talk about fashion. What the hell was going on? Hell really had frozen over.

Dad cleared his throat.

“Victoria?” Her eyes slowly turned to us. “I have two prospects coming to dinner tomorrow night. Your mother gave me a very detailed breakdown of the type of man you’d like to marry.”

“I’m sure either of them will be satisfactory,” she said, and looked out the window again.

Marcus shrugged and stared at her as confused as I was. So it wasn’t just me who felt like they had stepped into an alternate universe.

“Do you want to know who they are,” Dad asked.

“If you want to tell me, otherwise, I’ll meet them tomorrow,” she said, her voice flat and void of all emotion.

“Do you want an arranged marriage,” I asked, and Vicky sighed.

“What I want is not to talk about this with you,” she said, but the statement lacked the usual I-hope-you-rot-in-hell tone.

Okay, I was officially worried about Vicky.

Turning to my Dad, I decided that I’d chat with him about Blake’s college plans for us instead.

“Dad, I wanted to talk to you and get your opinion on some things.”

“Of course.”

I shared Blake’s idea for the house and school, but also brought up the obvious issues. He nodded along as I spoke, and I could see him thinking.

“You don’t want to come home and see it? I’ve been hoping that you’ll want to move there,” he said, and I knew he meant the house in Italy.

“I definitely want to visit and meet the family that I don’t know, but there is so much to consider before moving. Besides, I’d really like to study something in college that will help me understand business better and feed my creative side. Since Mum died, it’s been…insane. That is the only way to put it.”

Dad looked away and sighed. I hated how every time I brought up Mum, it caused him more pain.

“Anyway, I think it would be nice to do this before stepping into…” I glanced at Vicky, not wanting to make her feel any worse by rubbing her face in me taking over the family at some point. “Whatever comes next.”

He nodded. “I’ll give it some thought. I’m not opposed to it, but staying here long term is tricky. As long as you’re in school, you’re fine, but once you’re done, we’ll run into issues. You’re technically Russian. The Canadian paperwork is all fake. Wayward provides a buffer, but the moment you’ve graduated, we will need to sort it out. The marriage does help some.” Dad rubbed his chin.

Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. Was my passport legit, or had I been flying around with illegal documents all this time?

I glanced at Vicky, sure that she would at least be sneering in our direction, but there was nothing. She was a beautiful statue placed on the seat beside Marcus. No looks, lip curl, or anything else.

“It’s no problem, I know who I can call to get it sorted. Besides, I’d prefer not to have my daughters so far away. I just got you both together, and we finally feel like a family.”

We looked at Vicky, but there was still no reaction.

“Victoria, are you feeling well?”

She didn’t bother to look over.

“Yes, Papa, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You just seem so…”

She finally turned our way.

“Calm, uncaring, reserved, unaffected?”

“Well…yes, but it’s more than that. You seem sad.”