The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,176
thought I actually saw respect in his eyes. “I didn’t realize you understood that.”
“I’m a Prince of Cats. I have been since I was born. It was never . . .” I paused, looking for the right words, and finally said, “It was never optional. I could run away tomorrow, tell my Uncle Tybalt I won’t take his throne, trap him in a position he’s no longer suited to hold, and I’d still be a Prince of Cats. It’s not about being someone’s heir. It’s about having the kind of power the Court of Cats requires to survive. It doesn’t matter what I want. People will always need me to be an anchor for them. If I ran, someone would eventually challenge me for the crime of being in their territory, and I’d only have to win once to wind up King somewhere else. Somewhere that isn’t here and isn’t home. I’d rather stay here and keep my word and be someplace familiar when I have to be King. But I do have to be King. I can’t say no.”
“And that means you’re going to have to put yourself in danger,” said Willis.
“It means we’re going to have to break up.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting his reaction to be. Anger, maybe, or relief that I was finally going to get away from his daughter. He just nodded, though, and turned his attention back to the eggs.
“You’re young, you know,” he said. “Honestly, if I’ve ever had an objection to the two of you being . . . involved . . . it’s that you’re young, and I remember being young. I didn’t always make the best choices. It’s hard for human kids, or kids like Helen, to understand that something they do today can impact them in five years, or ten, or twenty. For kids like you, like the one I was, it’s even harder, because we’re looking at a scale of centuries. When we screw up, it can haunt us for hundreds and hundreds of years. That’s not easy. That’s not fun. So yeah, I haven’t always totally approved of how close you two are, or how much time you spend together, but it’s not because I don’t approve of you. I just . . . I don’t want her to do something she’s going to regret later.”
“That sounds like I’m something she’s going to regret,” I said, voice as neutral as I could make it.
“That’s not what I meant.”
I took a deep breath, forcing my fingernails to stay the way they were, rather than extending into claws. “I know Helen’s your daughter, and you don’t want her getting hurt. But she did get hurt. Blind Michael hurt her. He didn’t do it by mistake, and he didn’t do it because he loved her and thought it would be okay. He did it because he was a monster. Monsters hurt people. October killed him, and I guess if you asked him, he’d say that made her a monster, too, and maybe I’m a monster because I’m glad he’s dead. I’d kill him every day while Helen watched if I thought it would help her. Lots of things can hurt her. I don’t want to be one of them. I’m afraid I’m going to be because I’m always going to be what I am. But it’s not because we’re young. It’s because the world sucks.”
“I understand.” Willis lifted the pan off the stove and began portioning the eggs onto the waiting plates. “Let me guess: you either expected relief at the idea that you’d be getting away from my daughter, or anger, because why wouldn’t you be planning to spend the rest of your life with her? She’s smart and funny and beautiful and good. You’d be lucky to have her.”
He was right, which made my stomach curl. “I guess this is where us being young makes a difference, huh?” I couldn’t imagine marrying Helen, even if the throne weren’t going to get in the way. I liked her a lot. I probably loved her. But Willis was right when he said the choices we made today could last for centuries, and I wasn’t ready yet to decide which choices were the right ones.
“I guess so,” he agreed.
“How old were you when you met Helen’s mother?”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Four hundred and nine. Still a young man, by the standards of the Hobs I was living with. When I started stepping out with a human woman, they called me