***
Stefan sat down to dinner, gratified to see his daughter take her place at the other end of the table. Francesca had been more likely to spend her evenings out and about in the city than in the compound. He helped himself to baked breast of prairie hen and found her studying him. “What’s so interesting?”
She gave him a glance from under her lashes as she sliced her meat. “You are, Pop. You look very pleased with yourself.”
Stefan suppressed a stab of irritation. “I am pleased with myself. And I’ve asked you not to call me that.”
She nodded as she chewed. “I know. Why are you so pleased?”
“Lots of reasons,” Stefan said vaguely. “Ran-Del passed his test, for one thing.”
Francesca frowned at him over her glass of wine. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve decided I can’t go through with it.”
Stefan reached for his wine glass. “Go through with what?”
“With your scheme to marry me off to a noble savage. I just can’t do it, not now that I’ve met him.”
Stefan raised his eyebrows. Flat denial at this stage sounded bad. He took a sip of wine and stalled for time to think. “I thought you seemed rather taken with him. You even disobeyed me to see him alone.”
Francesca flushed, which surprised him. She rarely showed embarrassment. “It’s not that he’s repellent or anything. It’s that he’s a real person with his own life to live, and you’ve made him miserable.”
“He’ll get used to the city,” Stefan said, watching her expression closely. If she really was reluctant to proceed, it could take weeks to find another suitable Sansoussy. And if Elena Leong was lusting openly after his House, then others would be, too. No, he couldn’t afford to wait. “And if Ran-Del’s lonely, I’m confident you can take his mind off of it.”
“I can’t do it,” Francesca said firmly. “I can’t, and I won’t. You can throw this one back, Pop. I won’t marry him, and I won’t do anything to make him want to stay with me.”
Stefan said nothing for a few seconds as he chewed. This was even better than he had hoped for. She wasn’t reluctant because she disliked Ran-Del. In fact, she cared about him already. “You seem very concerned with Ran-Del’s feelings.”
Francesca waved her fork in agitation. “Of course I am. He has no idea what’s happened to him, and it’s made him very angry. Besides that, what is the poor man supposed to do with himself all day? He can’t read or work a terminal.”
“He seems to have a reasonable intelligence to me,” Stefan said, pleased she had put some thought into Ran-Del’s problems. “He’ll learn what he needs to learn.”
Francesca set her jaw in a way that reminded him of her mother. “Not from me. Let him go, please, Pop.”
Stefan saw no point in telling her that she had made him even more certain of his choice. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally, unwilling to lie to her outright. He wouldn't think about returning Ran-Del to the forest but rather finding a way to achieve his goal without risking her safety. “But I won’t make any promises.”
Francesca smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Pop.”
“And don’t call me Pop.”
“Of course not,” Francesca said in her most demure voice.
The Sixth Discipline Page 12