Legacy

Chapter 4: Lies of Leaders

"There was a fight down at the Partners Convention," my father started this conversation, his words pointed at me but his eyes focused on the message in front of him: golden writing on a white eXeScroll. His mouth twitched and the tablet crumpled without him touching it. Dad waved his hand and it rose in the air, depositing itself neatly in the incineration basket. 

Golden smoke unfurled from the steel grey receptacle - like tendrils of a sea-monster. It smelled crisp and fragrant: so near a taste you could have dined on it. Dad looked up from his papers, sweeping it all to the side in a motion, the papers returning to their places in a militarised action cutting through the dust motes in the air. 

Neat trick - but if Dad was only doing that with his telekinesis, he was slightly underworked.

"People can be such barbarians," I replied, shaking my head. Dad gave me a look. "Technically Dad, I didn't start it. I just ended it." How did he know? Alexei wouldn't have whined this early, the memory of Tatianya's touch would still be sore. I sighed, resting myself on the arm of a dark-red slick chair. "Besides, you should be proud. I didn't even hit him. I just threatened him with my words." 

Shoving him back at the wall doesn't count as hitting, I reasoned. Tatianya did the most damage, really.

"While watching as your girlfriend inflicted agonising pain on him," Dad said sharply. "Yes, I know what Tatianya did. You would do well to rein her in. She attacked Christian Riverane's son and though he doesn't know of the incident yet, Tatianya has placed herself in a dangerous position. Her parents could pay for her hasty actions." 

"Ex-girlfriend, actually," I amended. My legs dangled over the side of the chair and I swung them so that they dug into the chair, a constant repetition of attack. "And she doesn't care what happens to her parents. They're not exactly close."

"Well, regardless of what your ex-girlfriend does," he responded. "I care as to what you do. If Christian Riverane hears of your involvement in that kind of attack, this will rebound on me. As my right-hand, he stands to gain quite a lot if I'm slandered. Your actions have a far greater consequence than you know."

"Oh, Dad," I said lazily, swinging myself off the chair to walk up to his desk. I slid my hands along the cool wood while he eyed me with that steely look in his eyes that he still thought intimidated me. "I would have been listening but I kept on thinking about how if you finish your work early tomorrow, you'll invite one of your sluts back to the house and do it right... here." 

My hand traced the wood's patterns. Wasn't exactly soft. "So, you see, I would care a lot more about you if you didn't fuck different women once a month."

"That doesn't concern you." 

"Does it concern your wife?" I asked him, drawing out my venom and spitting it into his face with each word I spoke. "I'm fairly sure your sex life does concern her. I have to tell you, normally the other partner in the marriage is expected to be part of said sex - and not just as the bystander in the other room."

"You've gotten a filthy mouth lately," he pointed out icily. 

"I've just been expanding my vocabulary."

He sighed, drawing his hand through his black hair. My father used to be a handsome man. Maybe he still was - but under all the lies and lust, I just didn't see it anymore. His skin was pale, his eyes dark blue, his height: not as tall as everyone seemed to think. Once, his face was carved delicately and you could almost see Sol himself in such a man.

But then you learned the truth: that he was a man at war inside himself and beyond, that he screwed random women weekly, hadn't talked to his wife properly in years and killed more than many could count. The only real accomplishment to his name was raising such a skilled and talented daughter (it was me).