Page 10 of Broken Mercy
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
“I mean, has Dad ever changed his mind before?”
“There’s always a first.”
“Maybe.” He sucks his teeth and fiddles with his pants. It’s clear he thinks I shouldn’t bother. He’s worried about me and notexactly good at hiding it. “I’m sorry, you know. I always thought arranged marriages were, like, something you see in old fantasy movies or whatever. Then it happened to Annie, and now?—“
“It’s not your fault. And I’m not married yet.” I get to my feet and ruffle his hair. “Don’t stress too much about it, okay? I’ll be fine.”
Even if giving myself to some stranger for the rest of my life is a nightmare.
I keep thinking about that chance meeting in the office. How much of that was actual coincidence? And how much of it was planned? Brenden McGrath is apparently some kind of master thief, or at least that’s what I’ve heard, and I’ve been asking around since I learned he’s going to be my husband. But something bad happened to him, he got in some kind of trouble, botched an important job, nearly got killed, and has been on the outs with the families ever since. Why him, of all the men in the Brotherhood? Why not someone like Annie’s Leon?
I know why, even if I can’t admit it to myself.
Annie gets a Leon because she’s pretty, demure, and a perfect daughter.
I got a disgraced thief because I’m the opposite.
Everyone knows it. Even Davit can’t pretend like that’s not the case. Heck, I can see how much of a failure I am every time my little brother sets foot in my room. That boy can’t hide a darn thing.
I knock on Papa’s office door and let myself in when he calls. He’s sitting behind his desk, a half-eaten bowl of cereal and a big mug of steamy coffee at his elbow, a newspaper unfolded in front of him. Annie tried to get him to use an iPad a few years back,but that didn’t take. Haik Sarkissian will be analogue until the day he dies.
“Good morning, Papa,” I say as brightly as I can, but he immediately notes the false cheer. His face tightens in response.
“Youngest daughter,” he says, not lowering the sports page. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Are you the reason Davit was hanging around?”
I don’t bother answering that last question. “I was hoping we could discuss my future.”
“There’s not much to say that hasn’t already been decided.”
“I understand, but I was thinking maybe, I don’t know, we could talk about it anyway?”
“I know you’re worried, darling youngest, but your cousin Arsen wants this. He wouldn’t pair you with someone dangerous. I’m sure Brenden McGrath will make a wonderful husband.”
Papa does not sound convinced nor does he sound particularly worried about it.
I stand before him, hands clasped in front of me, feeling like a child again, inwardly hating myself while outwardly doing my best Annie impression. How does she hold her face when she wants something? What kind of pleading tone does she use? I swear, my sister knows how to work my father for just about anything she wants. While I’m stumbling around awkwardly.
“I’m sure Cousin Arsen’s right—“Because Cousin Arsen is always right in our family. “But I don’t know Brenden at all. Maybe we can have a longer engagement? Maybe a few months, so we can get to know each other? There’s no reason we have to rush into anything.”
Papa lowers the paper, his attention on me now. “That’s all you want?”
“Well, I mean, I suppose, if maybe, uh, if we find we’re not compatible?—“
His eyes narrow. “Say it, Tallie.”
“Maybe we could call it off?”
Papa sighs and puts the paper down. He shakes it, folding the creases. “That is not an option.”
“There has to be a way, Papa. I don’t know him, I don’t want him, I can’t marry a man I’ve met once for only a few seconds.”
“I’ll set up another meeting then.”
“Papa—“
He holds up a hand. My mouth shuts with a click, my heart racing into my throat. All the usual good humor is gone from Papa’s face as he puts his paper aside and lifts his coffee to his lips.
