Dad rubs his chin with his right hand. “Quite true.”
Quite false, actually. If they think Adair’s holding off on sending me to Hell because of some agreement with her father, they’re nuts. Not that I’m sharing that fact at this point. That particular assumption is a key part of my secret back-up plan. I cross my fingers under the table. Let’s hope I don’t have to use the secret back-up plan. It’s a little crazy.
Come oooooooooon, special ops mission.
Connor shakes his head. “I hate being the bearer of bad tidings, here. I know how attached you two are.”
Lincoln’s face is stone. “But the Earl has demands.”
“Yes, he does,” says Connor. “They aren’t anything we haven’t discussed before.”
My chest tightens with a sense of fear and dread. I know what those demands are. Marriage contract. My Lincoln stuck with that psycho.
Hell, no.
“Please, my boy,” says Connor. “I’m no King without my best solider at my side. We need you back in Antrum. Alone. And by first thing tomorrow morning.” He pats Octavia’s hand. “You can thank your mother for that. She fought hard to give the pair of you time to say good-bye.”
Lincoln pins his father with a look that could freeze lava. “And what about the betrothal jewels? At least, grant me that.”
Connor scratches his neck in a nervous rhythm. “Still missing, my lad. We’ll find them. When you come to Antrum, we’ll hunt them down together.”
Meaning that he’ll only get them if he goes to Antrum and does what Adair wants. My mind fogs over as rage, frustration and despair ricochet through my thoughts. I force myself to focus and slowly, my internal haze clears. A dark determination settles into my soul.
I don’t care what the consequences, this isn’t happening.
“So this is it?” I ask. “We sell out Lincoln to Adair. I refuse to believe this is our only option.”
“It’s the only option right now, my dear,” says Octavia gently. “A war is battles. We lost this one, I’m afraid. I assure you, I’ll do everything in my power to avoid actual nuptials with Adair.”
“Then give Lincoln the betrothal jewels. Now.”
“What if Adair hears of it?” asks Octavia. “There wouldn’t be an iconigration tomorrow. You must see reason.”
I focus on my parents. “And what do you two think?”
“The Earl of Acca’s offer changes things,” says Dad. “At least, for the next twenty-four hours.”
Mom’s been quiet this entire time, watching the scene with a diplomatic eye. Now, she rises to her feet. “Thank you, Octavia and Connor. We’ll take it from here.”
There’s no question what ‘taking it from here’ means in Mom-speak. She agrees with Dad, too. I know they’re both only doing what they think is best for everyone—me included—but I still can’t help feeling betrayed and hurt. A crushing sense of sadness weighs down on me, making every word I say a chore.
“You don’t have to shoo them away, Mom. I know what you’ll tell me when they go. You agree with them. We need to let Adair move the souls and think she gets Lincoln, at least until the crisis is over.”
“I’m with your mother on this one, Myla,” adds Dad. “Adair’s too powerful. Gaining back your Scala abilities isn’t worth losing your life in a last minute attack with no intel. And it seems like the girl’s willing to be reasonable, do the work of a Scala, at least for now. It’s the most we can do for the next twenty-four hours. There’s no advantage in antagonizing her until this crisis in Purgatory is over.”
I shift my gaze between Octavia and Connor. “So this may be the last time I ever see you two.”
Octavia’s eyes widen with surprise. “I certainly hope not.”
“Of course, we’ll cross paths again,” adds Connor with an easy grin.
The way Connor talks, it’s like Lincoln’s only going on vacation. His casual attitude really ticks me off. Before our talk, I promised Mom that I’d keep my mouth shut around Connor, but now? If there’s one advantage to this crap situation, it’s that I can finally speak my mind.
I steel my shoulders. “Connor, I’ve something to say before you go.”
“What is it, child?”
I turn to Lincoln. “You mind if I?”
“Be my guest.” He sets his hand in mine. “I’ve got your back.”
Some of my sadness lightens. Lincoln and I really do have each other’s backs.
Octavia fidgets in her seat. “I appreciate that this situation is trying for you, my dear. However, you must understand. It isn’t the thrax way to criticize—”
“Well, it’s my way.” I focus all my attention on Connor. “From the first time I met you back in Purgatory, you’ve been concerned about one thing. The House of Acca. Never about your son’s feelings. Or what’s best for him and his life.”