Chapter Twelve

Eliot pressed his clenched fists against his legs, struggling to keep hold of his temper as Climence and Leighton’s argument escalated.

“How did you find this out?” said Climence, an angry flush colouring her face. “Have you been spying on me?”

Leighton snorted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I told Uncle Leighton,” said Marcelin.

Climence snapped her fan shut. “How dare you discuss my private affairs?”

“When your so-called private affairs affect the family,” said Leighton, “it is no longer private.”

She glared at him, breathing heavily. “Even if that is the case, this family has nothing to do with you.”

Leighton remained silent, but Eliot lost his struggle. “Uncle Leighton is part of–”

“Silence.” Her narrow-eyed gaze swivelled to Eliot. “Your words, your thoughts carry no weight with me.”

Leighton moved to stand between Climence and Eliot. “Enough. I didn’t come here to witness your unwarranted harshness. You still haven’t explained this idiotic plan against an innocent tall-folk.”

“Innocent?” She barked a humourless laugh. “Why so bothered about a stranger?”

“Because it’s not right. And because antagonising them might endanger our family.”

“Our family?” She leaned closer, her fan inches from Leighton’s face. “If family is so important to you, you should have married and had your own instead of trying to take what’s mine.”

“Mother–”

Leighton raised his hand, stopping Marcelin then moved the fan away from his face. “Is that what you believe?”

“Even as children, Father treated you like a second son. Then Chaney died in that damned war, and Father replaced him with you.”

Eliot frowned then remembered Chaney was Climence’s older brother, who had died at eighteen in one of the last battles of the Gallanan War.

“He did not replace Chaney with me or anyone else,” said Leighton, his voice low. “No one could replace him. He was my best friend, more than a brother–”

“He was my brother.”

Leighton flinched at her shout.

“You took my brother’s place. You took my father’s love that should have been mine. And now you want to take my family from me.”

Eliot could only stare. He’d never seen Climence in such a state, she was always in control.

“Mother, please, calm yourself.”

“Calm? Calm?” Visibly shaking, Climence spun to face Marcelin, shaking off her daughter’s attempts to hold her arm. “I told you. I told you he was trying to steal my family, but you called me foolish. Now do you see?” Jabbing her fan at Leighton, she continued, “You almost took my estate.”

“What?” Nostrils flaring, Leighton almost spat the word out. “Who was the one who stood by you? Who helped you prove to your father you could run his estate?”

Leighton’s gruff words earned them a respite from Climence’s fury.

Dropping her fan, Climence reached for Marcelin. “Oh, oh. Marcelin, help me, my chair, I feel faint.”

As Marcelin supported Climence, Leighton’s expression didn’t soften. “Have you forgotten, my dear? Your delicate act has no effect on me, I’ve known you too long.”

Still standing, Climence fixed him with an icy stare. “I wish you had died instead of Chaney.”

Leighton stiffened before his shoulders slumped.

“Mother, how could you?” Marcelin visibly recoiled from her.

Wide-eyed, Lina clamped her hands over her mouth.

His body tense with the effort to keep his temper in check, Eliot went to Leighton’s side.

“So, we finally have it,” said Leighton. “How you truly feel.”

Her back to him, Climence marched to stare out the tall windows. “Get out. You’re no longer welcome here.”

With a soft cry of denial, Lina hurried to his side just ahead of Marcelin and hugged him.

“I haven’t felt welcome here for many years.” Leighton kissed Marcelin on the cheek, hushed Lina and squeezed Eliot’s shoulder. He paused at the door. “I cannot begin to imagine what you hope to gain from this mad plan. But I implore you to think long and hard before it goes too far. Before your actions jeopardise us all.”

Climence remained staring out the window. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I know you’re not foolish. You know the merchants won’t stand for any trouble. As much as it pains me to say this, you’ll find yourself alone with no support.”

“It is one giant who doesn’t even live in our city. Why would the merchants care what happens to him? And I’m not alone, I have support, connections.”

“If you believe, what’s his name, Garlon? If you believe his connections will keep you and him and your foolish faction safe, you are mistaken. You know how important familial ties are to tall-folk. Pray this one you have chosen is not connected to a tall-folk merchant or advocate. Our monarch values his lucrative trade links more than your wellbeing.”