EL Official BK5 Chapter 7 - Was It Too Much to Ask That My Wife Hate my Father? (Patreon)

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(Reference: Timeline-wise, this is directly during/after the epilogue chapters of Book 4)

“I want him to disappear, permanently,” Nathaniel ordered calmly, keeping his voice low as he spoke into my ear. His shoulders were tense and his eyes held cold judgment, but his expression was neutral, as if he were simply requesting the time.  

“Oh?” I queried. There was deep malice in his words, and that caught my interest. 

“Before they leave for Europe. Make it happen.”

 “Certainly,” I agreed under my breath as he left.

It was interesting, for the calmer of the twins to make such an impulsive request. Curious, I took another glass from the table. Swirling the wine as I swiveled toward the general direction of my target. The man stood across the room, oblivious to the orders I had received as he spoke and laughed with Ávila. His hair was braided elegantly, though some strands hung free.

I couldn’t say for certain what he had done to provoke Nathaniel, but I had some suspicion given that I had known Hasan since I was a boy. He was one of Ælfric’s high council members, and a trusted advisor. We got along cordially. However, I have little tolerance for men who would take advantage of those under their care and Hasan’s beliefs lay in old traditions. He ‘collects’ valuable people, and Nathaniel was certainly someone whom he would have considered ‘valuable’...

Otherwise, Hasan is an unassuming man with a demure nature. Well suited to the arts he held what I considered to be, a weak front with forced chivalry. Polite certainly, but through his outwardly helpful and friendly appearance I could see the entitlement he felt. He was a man who believed himself better than others, and I was looking forward to tearing him down.

Nathaniel left the gathering after some hours, his pet dragged him away down one of the hidden passages, leaving me to entertain his guests at the gathering. Things devolved somewhat after that. Someone challenged Àvila to a magic wrestle, which she gladly accepted, while Ælferic saw fit to experiment with Killian. He was asking the boy questions he had no hope of answering. When Emmerich, my father, began to move toward me, I chose to intervene rather than engage with him.

“Lord Ælferic, haven’t you tormented our young captain enough?” I commented casually, joining their conversation.

“Markos Bellerose, just the man I was hoping to talk to,” Ælferic turned to me with a wistful smile, “I’ve heard the fae child born was yours, and a son. I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you,” I answered politely while Killian took his opportunity to leave.

“But of course! And I expect I’ll be meeting your son tomorrow?”

“Certainly,” I agreed with little interest. Nothing had been arranged, but I understood well that he wasn’t making a request.

“And your wife too. I would be very interested to meet the Untrained One.”

I smiled tightly, “Claire will be present,” I assured, “However, I’m afraid that's not all I came over to speak with you about. There are some books I was hoping I might borrow from your library.”

Ælferic’s eyes gleamed, “You always were such a curious one. What theories are you working on now?”

“Lord Nathaniel has requested that I learn more about fertility. He is hopeful that I might be able to come up with a treatment that negates the need for Pets entirely.”

“How novel of him. It seems my youngest grandson is quite the innovator. I will loan you whatever you need, but I expect to see your research once it is complete.”

“Of course-”

“Ælferic, Markos-” Emmerich began as he reached us and I stepped away. 

“It’s late, I’m afraid I must be going,” I responded with disinterest, giving a small bow to Ælferic as I excused myself.

I hadn’t expected my father to be so bold as to join a conversation with Ælferic. Truthfully, I was surprised he could stand at all, given that he has no spine. He shuffled, awkwardly averting his gaze as I moved past, but made no further attempt to communicate. Emmerich is essentially Ælferic’s handmaiden and I can hardly stand the sight of him.

In appearance I take after my mother. Her features were like that of her father, cascades of wavy hair, lilac eyes and a naturally tall frame. Emmerich might as well have been a dwarf for all I cared. He’s a stout man, shorter than I by a few inches with darker purple eyes and traditionally Fae hair braided on either side.

I sighed to myself as I reached the safety of my living quarters. Shutting the door softly, I leaned back against it, as if that would ward off the happenings of the hours prior. Part of me had known my father would arrive with the others from Europe, but I had been hopeful he wouldn’t. Now he would likely meet my son, and Claire tomorrow as well. The idea was sour, and I scowled. Kicking off my shoes and loosening the buttons of my shirt as I thought about it. If only there was some way to avoid it-..

“Markos, you’re back,” Claire’s voice interrupted my pessimism.

She was near the window, coddling our son in her arms as she swayed back and forth. Her night dress was wrinkled, as if slept in, and she smiled when she turned, taking my breath away. Moonlight kissed her skin, giving her a radiant glow like that of an angel. Her long, mousy brown hair fell in a wash like liquid silk down her back, and her pewter eyes sparkled as they crinkled at the corners.

It felt like only yesterday that she had been battered and bruised. Beaten with her hair cut and torn from her head, and our child prematurely born in chaos. I hate that I couldn’t protect her, that she suffered on my account. She is largely unchanged from the ordeal, but there is some part of her that has hardened, and occasionally she wakes in the night to cry in my arms.

“Claire…” I murmured and she grinned wider.

“Why’d you stop undressing? I thought I was getting my own handsome man strip show~?”

“Claire,” I repeated, dejected. 

“What? You look so handsome in that formal stuff, but goodness knows you look even better naked~” 

My lips twitched into a half smile, half grimmance, this woman was terrifying.

***

We were to meet with Ælferic and his nobles in the gardens when the sun touched the outer wall of the castle. Surrounded by lush greenery and unnaturally blooming flowers filled with soft insect life, we stood waiting in a neat arrangement as if preparing for battle. The more annoying of the twins, Nathaniel, stood ahead of us with his Vanir brat as the first point of contact, while Achaicus and Ávila waited in flanking positions.

I remained beside Claire, while Charles and Calla lingered at our backs for good measure. It seemed everyone shared my sentiment of concern, not that I would ever admit gratitude for such… but it was reassuring. Achaicus had spoken with the kitchens to arrange an intermittent high tea, something that was rarely done, to serve as a means of distraction and Nathaniel had Eric dress as a fae noble. That controversy alone would undoubtedly draw further attention from my son.

When Ælferic arrived he did so with a small escort of guards, Hasan, Wilhelm, and Emmerich. Strictly speaking they outnumbered us, but we outpowered them, and they knew it. The High Fae Lord’s prime was over, and no one born in the last century matched the twins. My father and Hasan were almost equally as old and useless, while Wilhelm looked like he might soil himself if either twin spoke to him. Still… an opponent that seems harmless is a fine ruse, and I knew better than to make assumptions. It is, after all, far better to scorch the earth and be certain, than to make smoke and presume.

“What a delightful garden,” Ælferic began cordially, “So full of fertile life~”

“Yes,” Nathaniel agreed with disinterest, though he stepped forward to greet his grandfather nonetheless.

“Tell me, is it all due to your Exotic? Does his power extend to the soils?”

“Wherever he goes life flourishes, it takes time, but I won’t deny that his presence over the years has benefited our gardens.” 

“How intriguing. Are you certain I cannot borrow him for a time?” 

“What an odd question to ask when I was certain of my clarity about it yesterday. Has your hearing begun to fade?” he answered with a flat insult.

Nathaniel was playing a dangerous game provoking those above him, although I’m not sure what else I expected.

“My mistake, I wouldn’t have expected someone in my lineage to be so easily manipulated by an exotic,” the man returned casually as his attention refocused, “Besides, he’s not the most interesting thing here.”

His eyes gleamed as they settled on my child and bitter distaste coated the back of my tongue. But before I could speak Claire began to move past me. Her light pink dress brushed my legs and she approached Ælferic without hesitating.

“You came to see this little one right?” She began with fearless confidence.

In less than twelve steps she had bypassed four people, including Wilhelm, and moved directly to the old fae with our child in her arms. “This is my son, his name is Hadrien-Cyraque Bellerose and he’s a bit fussy today. I think the sunlight makes his little eyes hurt. Would you like to hold him?” 

No one dared so much as breathe while she spoke. Claire wasn’t following any of the Fae pleasantries as I had told her to, and Ælferic looked more than a little shocked when she came to stand before him. To him, she might as well have been a cow that suddenly stood on two legs and began speaking English, and he was at a loss for words.

“I-... Certainly?” he mused as he struggled to recover. It seemed my wife had a similar effect on everyone she met, no one knew quite what to make of her. 

“I knew you would,” she gave a devilish grin, “Here, sit and I’ll hand him to you.” 

Claire guided the ancient fae into the nearest seat with her free hand, helping him as if he were an elderly man, before beginning to hand over Hadrien.

“Here, you have to support his head, and if he cries, just jiggle him a little bit,” she instructed, while continuing to guide him into place. I’m certain she didn’t grasp the concept of how old he was, or how little he needed help. 

Still, he watched her with some kind of wistful amusement, like someone watching a toddler fumble about. “How interesting,” he commented. 

His eyes flicked over to me as Claire settled the infant into his arms and cold dread travelled down my spine. He was too interested, not in my son, but in my mate. Thousands of questions lay in the crinkle of his eyes. He wanted to know how or why she behaved this way, and if I would intervene.

“He really likes shiny things, especially if they move, I’m not sure if that’s normal for a Fae baby? Or like, any baby really…” Claire prattled on jovially while the tension between the rest of us could have cut glass.

Eventually Ælferic’s attention returned to her, “My my you are quite unusual aren’t you untrained one?”

“Um, so, my name is Claire,” she corrected him with a kind smile laced with mild annoyance, “And I don’t really think I’m anything special.”

“Did you truly undergo no training?” he continued with vested curiosity.

“Well, I’ve been training to sew things, I even made this dress… But I didn’t train like Calla did, I’m pretty useless with a sword,” she laughed.

“Are you contracted?”

“Oh, yeah of course! I mean, I can’t be here if I’m not right?” she assured, holding up her wrist as proof, “But even if I wasn’t I would never, nevverrr do anything to hurt you guys. Fae aren’t so bad, and if Markos looks as good as you do when he gets old… well, I’m going to have way too many kids.”

“You intend to carry more than one Fae child?” 

“As many as Markos can give me!” 

How I wished she would stop talking. 

Ælferic delayed a moment as he thought, before asking more tentatively, “And why would you want many Fae children? Have you some kind of plan?”

I was sure the question was loaded beyond Claire’s comprehension, and as I came to stand beside her just in case, she lowered her voice.

“You really want to know why I want so many kids?” she whispered.

“Why should I ask a question I don’t want the answer to?”

“Well, then it’s because,” she paused to reach back, taking a hold of my thigh, “This man is very good at making them with me. So you see, you can just blame him for it.”

“Your untrained pet is lustful,” Ælferic now ignored her to speak directly to me.

“She’s human,” I answered with as much calm as I could manage, “She has needs that require attention.”  

“How did you make her?”

“I didn’t. She came to us.”

Again Ælferic paused as if contemplating, “How dark was the child’s hair when he was born?” 

I wasn't permitted to answer before Hadrien decided he’d had enough, or perhaps it was more that he realised then that it wasn’t his mother holding him, and he began to scream. Claire gestured for him. But Ælferic delayed and I thought he might refuse to hand our child back. I readjusted slightly in preparation to fight and the man gave a bemused smile, “It seems the child wants his mother.”

“He’s probably hungry, is it okay if I feed him here?” Claire asked pleasantly, but the faintest tone of aggression gave her away. She had thought the same as I before our son was back in her arms. 

“Children must eat no matter the time,” Ælferic assured as she whisked her son away without another word. I wonder if she had that planned?

Achaicus moved to go with her while Nathaniel came to stand beside me and the formality of the meeting dissolved. Emmerich joined us shortly after, much to my disdain, and the conversation continued.

“How dark was the child’s hair when he was born?” My father asked curiously.

“Lighter than mine,” I responded with blunt disinterest.

“He must have got even more Fae genes than we would have expected.” 

“Who can say.”

“With any luck, he will inherit our magic levels.”

“If he’s lucky, he won’t get any of your inherited traits at all,” I corrected, and the man fell silent.

The conversation diverged into talk of the future and my father slipped away. Ælferic wanted to know all of Nathaniel’s plans, succession details, construction projects, political ties. If I could have left the conversation I would have, but I knew well that if I were even to try, Nathaniel would disallow it. 

Still, as they discussed the fine details my attention drifted to find Claire. She sat a little way across the gardens to feed our son. Achaicus was with her, so she was safe there, but Emmerich had also joined them. He lingered gently until Claire invited him to sit and her face lit up when he did.

She was gushing over him, undoubtedly asking endless questions and throwing the word ‘grandfather’ out carelessly as if he deserved the title. My lip curled involuntarily. I couldn’t imagine the things he was telling her. 

“Markos, did you hear me?” Nathaniel asked firmly, dragging my attention back. Ælferic had departed with Hasan to speak with Àvila, and torment Charles, leaving only the two of us.

“What,” I demanded.

“If Achaicus doesn’t have a child, Hadrien will be Leúchtend’s heir.”

I wasn’t expecting that, “...Pardon?”

“It’s logical, you’re our closest living relative, and Hadrien is your eldest son.”

“We aren’t direct descendants, why would you-”

“It’s not set in stone. If the boy decides he doesn’t want it, I won’t force it on him. Nor will I allow him to take it if he’s unworthy. But… it is my wish.”

“…Then I suppose I hardly have any right to refuse.”

Nathaniel gave a faint, irritating, smirk, “What kind of fool do you think I am? You would never refuse it.”

The arrogant, rude, petulant child. Who raised him to be so insolent? 

*** 

By the time the affair ended it was after sunset. The twins escorted our guests to the main hall for dinner, while Claire and I returned to our chambers. She lounged across the bed with Hadrien between her arms, babbling at him about how strong he was as he held onto her fingers with his fat hands. 

The way she watched him was… foreign to me. She looked at him as if he were her whole world with unconditional admiration. He giggled and squealed, squirming as if they were playing while she tried to change his clothes. 

“Uh-uh. Leg through the hole. Come on now little man, don’t be this difficult-” she complained. Even her scolding was laced with love so thick it could have almost made me nauseous. Was it an act? Did her affection come with a set of rules? Would she have become annoyed with him if he were too loud? Or if he struggled too long?

“There we go!” she cooed as she fastened the last button of his clothes, “Are you just going to stand over there all night?” 

I didn’t immediately realize she was talking to me, until she looked up, “Well? I need help getting out of this dress you know.”

“…I’m coming,” I assured, unfolding my arms as I moved to join her. I pulled the pins from her hair and the thread from her corset one line at a time in silence.

“...Are you okay?” she asked at last.

“Why should I not be?”

“You’re quiet…”

“I have nothing to say.” 

Claire took a deeper breath in, “I met your dad today…”

“I saw.”

“I was expecting him to be awful, you know. Rude or mean or something, but he wasn’t… He was actually very nice… soft spoken and polite… I thought maybe he hurt you, but he doesn’t seem like the type… so I was wondering why you don’t like him?” she asked more gently.

“I never said he hurt me.”

“…Then why do you hate him so much…?”

It was a difficult question to answer with any level of precision, and when I was quiet for too long, Claire spoke again.

“You don’t have to tell me… But maybe one day I’d like to know.”

She waited again, but I couldn’t find the words to say.

“…He also told me a little bit about your mom…”

“Did he?” I asked with disinterest.

“Yeah… so… I think… I don't want to use her name for any of our kids, if you don’t want to… But, I do sort of want your dad at our wedding…”

“Why?”

“Because I think you might regret it later if he’s not there on such an important day…”

I sighed to myself, this woman, “I’ll think about it for some more time.”

She smiled, looking back at me, “Also, did you like the little trick I taught Cryi~?”

“What trick?” I answered with tentative hesitation.

“To scream on command,” she beamed like a child in a candy store.

I should have known.

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