“Perfect,” Auntie said.
“Which doesn’t mean I’m accepting. Educated, you said?”
“She’s-”
“I’d like to hear from her. Assuming the blonde has enough brains to speak.”
“I can speak,” Sandra said, biting back her temper.
“And?” he asked. He’d asked it in a way that made it feel like he was making a point.
“And I completed a degree.”
“In?” he managed the same tone.
She managed to avoid stuttering or stumbling. It would only play into his hands. He was shaping the conversation to put her off balance and reinforce the ‘brainless blonde’ idea. “I majored in English, minored in theology.”
“At nineteen?”
“At nineteen.”
“Why English and Theology?”
“If you’re destined to grow up to be a scientist, you study sciences. If you’re going to go all-in as a practitioner, you have to focus on the esoteric. Symbolism, myth, ideas, and structure, among other things.”
“You’re not the only girl they’re marrying off, are you?”
She glanced at her aunt, but didn’t get any cues.
She met his eyes, then said, “No. No I’m not.”
He stared into her eyes. No glancing around for connections. His way of looking at things sought out something else altogether. “You didn’t choose those degrees, did you?”
“No. The family set out several options, saying they would pay for my education and work harder to find a good match for me if I followed their plan.”
“Meaning you’re interchangeable. If I wanted it, I could pursue this other one. Which is it, Missy or Sandra?”
“That’s Missy, I’m Sandra.”
“So?” he addressed Auntie. “If I asked, could I have Missy instead?”
“Missy’s my eldest daughter, my first choice for taking over the household. A different case.”
“Ahh… a hierarchy. One girl worth more than another.”
“I wouldn’t put it so crudely.”
He snorted, “I don’t care how you’d put it. That’s the way it is, isn’t it?”
Auntie paused. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
“Where do we stand, little Sandra?” he asked. “How do I rate? How do you rate? I take it you aren’t the smartest, most beautiful, most talented of them?”
“No. But I have my strengths.”
“Don’t we all? Meaningless words. Don’t waste your time on them. More importantly, you shouldn’t waste mine. I’m not one for patience or delayed gratification.”
“Fine,” she said.
“Where do you stand? Your family is whoring it’s daughters out in bids for power-”
Stung by the choice of words, Sandra glanced at her aunt. The woman hadn’t flinched in the slightest.
“-and I’m asking, what am I worth, and what are you worth, do you think?”
Sandra collected herself. “There are a lot of practitioners we could have contacted. Out of all of them, my aunt chose you.”
“Very diplomatic wording,” he said. “Still ambiguous.”
“Do the other practitioners you deal with speak so honestly? I’m surprised,” Sandra said.
“I don’t speak with many, and no, they aren’t entirely honest,” Jeremy said. “But I’m not being asked if I want to marry any of them.”
The word marry hit Sandra harder than she might have expected. She’d grown up with it, had known it was in the cards a decade ago.
Her stride broken in the simplest, most minor way, she found she was further put off by the animal gazes, the smiles and smirks and the pacing movements that framed Jeremy Meath.
She looked to her aunt for reassurance and didn’t find it.
“The honest truth,” Sandra replied, “Is you’re seen as a gamble.”
He smirked. “A gamble. An incarnation of Conquest, with no conquest to be had, our Lord of Toronto is dying.”
“That’s a large part of it.”
“And you want to tie yourself to me, in hopes I’ll take the seat.”
“No,” Sandra said. “My family wants me to tie myself to you, in hopes you’ll take the seat. I don’t play so big a role. This is between you and them.”
He tilted his head, looking between her and her aunt.
“You wanted honesty,” she said.
“Okay,” he said. He turned to her aunt. “Why should I bother?”
“Because you might have reasons to pursue power,” the woman said. “Maybe you want it for yourself. Maybe your god wants you to. It could be your way out of a bad situation, should you be in one or find your way to one. Every powerful man has had a great woman behind him.”
Jeremy scoffed.
“Platitudes aside,” Sandra cut in, “If our husband proves to be a natural manipulator, a player of that game, we can play to their strengths. We make them stronger. If they aren’t, and you don’t strike me as someone who is, we can account for the weakness. Shore you up where you don’t have the knowledge or experience.”
“Ah. You would help me wage war against my peers, should the opportunity arise?”
“My family would help you win any wars against your peers,” Sandra said.
“Dangerously close to being a promise,” he said, “I didn’t miss the other meaning. You might argue you have no part in the losses, instead of being indebted to help find the victories. Nevermind. What do you get?”
Auntie spoke, “Any daughters are ours. We teach them our way, in addition to anything you teach them as you raise them. We swear them to our manner of doing things. We also get a share of your power. One token offering, every three years.”
“You play a long game.”
“That is the nature of dynasties, Jeremy Meath,” the woman said.
“I didn’t plan to marry, nor did I plan to have children.”
“Plans can change. You would dictate the nature of your marriage with Sandra Duchamp. We know practitioners have different demands, and we can adapt. If you don’t want to raise children, then don’t raise them. You could sire them and involve yourself only as much as you wish.”
“Children and a small offering from time to time?”
“You could say that. If you had no plans for leaving a legacy-”
“I do have plans, a shrine, and establishing a place for the subjects my god in slumber placed into my service and care.”
“But no legacy as far as a bloodline.”
He shook his head.
“Then you lose nothing. You could raise one of your children to look after your shrine and subjects. We have familial ties to Japan and the shrines there, resources you could draw on. Through us, you stand to gain a great deal.”
“Assuming I care so much about what happens after I’m gone. Earlier, I think I said I wasn’t much for patience or delayed gratification?”
“You did.”
“There you have it. What does this cost me in the now? A dreary, carbon-copy Barbie doll tied to me for life?”
He took advantage of the shocked silence to take a drink from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You insult me,” Sandra said.
“Yes. I believe I did.”
“You insult us,” Sandra said. “My family. My sisters and cousins, my mother and aunt, who are doing the same thing I am now.”