Copper Veins(61)

“He’s not a Corbeau,” Dad sneered.

“Yeah, well, neither am I.” I glanced toward Micah—his lips were pressed into a bloodless line, and his eyes were practically red with fury. “Go for a walk.”

He blinked. “Whatever for?”

“Because the last time you looked that angry, you wadded up iron warriors like tinfoil and threw them at Ferra’s castle.” Micah nodded, because wives are smart and you should listen to them, and then he walked outside without another word. Once he was gone, I said to Dad, “Why do you hate my husband?”

At least he had the decency to look offended. “I do not hate Micah.”

“But, you don’t like that I’m married to him.” I crossed my arms over my chest and moved closer to Mom, channeling her bad-assedness. “Is it because he’s an elf?”

“No!” Dad rubbed his forehead and continued, “No. Not at all. I just…” He wandered toward a window, content to stare at the landscape while Mom, Sadie, and I glared daggers into his back. It was then that I noticed Max was conspicuously absent. It wasn’t like him to miss out on a shouting match. Then again, Max had never disagreed with a single thing Dad had said, no matter how outrageous.

“My entire life, I’ve had a vision of what our family would be like,” Dad said at last. “My wife and children would stand by my side, and we would end the Peacekeepers’ reign of tyranny once and for all. In my vision, we would do good things.”

“We will always support you,” I said softly, “but you need to support us, too.” Dad nodded, but he didn’t say anything. “What is it about Jerome? Why did you send him after me?”

Dad opened his mouth, then shut it. After a few moments’ thought, he replied, “Firstly, he’s a good man. Secondly, we could exploit his Peacekeeper connections to learn vital information. Thirdly, joining the families of the current Metal Inheritor and the prior Air Inheritor would be a smart political move.”

“Joining the families?” I repeated. “As in, allies?”

“More than just allies,” Dad clarified. “Marriage.”

Mom snorted and muttered something about politics being the death of us all. I heard movement near the front door and saw that Micah had left it open. No one was standing there, so I assumed it had been a silverkin and turned back to Dad. “While these are all solid reasons,” I allowed, “the fact remains that I am married to Micah. To Micah! You need to drop this fantasy about Jerome.”

Dad shrugged. “I had so many dreams for you.” He looked to Sadie. “You, too. I wanted us to lead the resistance together. You would be an excellent leader, of that I’m sure.”

Sadie stared at him, her mouth a slash across her face. “You know nothing about me,” she whispered, before retreating toward her library. Mom gave Dad a long, sad look, then she went upstairs.

“You should apologize to Micah,” I said as I also left the atrium. “Being that he’s the only son-in-law you have.”

Dad started to say something, but I didn’t stay to hear it. What I needed right now was a drink—preferably something cold and eye-wateringly alcoholic—some aspirin, and a nap. Arguing with Dad was just exhausting, and the combination of my throbbing head and leftover bruises wasn’t helping matters.

On my way to the kitchen, I found Sadie curled up on the couch. “You okay?”

“How could I be okay?” She raised her head, face streaked with tears. “My entire life, I’ve waited to have my father back. Now he’s here, and he doesn’t care anything about me.”

“That’s not true,” I said, sitting beside her. “You know he loves you.”

“He loves the idea of me,” Sadie spat. “He loves having a powerful daughter, one who can be a symbol for his cause. He has no idea who I really am.”

I didn’t say anything—I mean, what could I have really offered? Sadie was right. Dad had been gone for so long, and he was now so focused on the resistance that he didn’t know any of us. What was worse was that he didn’t seem to care.

So I sat with my sister, hoping that my presence comforted her at least a little bit. After a while, the silverkin brought us something to eat and the magazines I’d picked up a few weeks ago at the Promenade Market. I figured I’d spend some quality time with Sadie until Micah got back from his walk. I couldn’t wait to see him, go up to our rooms, and put this day behind us.





25


“He is trying to take you away from me.”

“Wha—” I blinked, bleary-eyed, and assessed my surroundings. My physical body was once again sleeping on the couch with Sadie—we must have been sleeping for a while, since someone had been thoughtful enough to tuck some blankets around us. Micah’s body was sprawled in the chair opposite from the couch while his dreamself prowled back and forth before the hearth.