by Rachel Aaron
I was ungrateful because my gratitude was the objective. This wasn’t the first time I’d come home to a pile of new stuff. It was my dad’s standard operating procedure: if stick fails, apply carrot. But I’d grown up with this bullshit. I knew it didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t sorry, he was just using a resource he had in excess—money—to guilt me into going along with his whims.
It might have been more effective if my parents’ lack of caring hadn’t been so obvious. I’m only human. I’m not immune to gifts, and what daughter didn’t want to believe that her parents were worried about her? But while the stuff my mom had crammed into my apartment was all quite nice, it showed zero consideration for my actual needs. See exhibit A: the white couch.
But while it was clear neither of my parents had taken two seconds to think about what I wanted, my father’s priorities were on clear display. For all the “gifts” he’d packed into my apartment, I didn’t miss the fact that none of it was stuff I could easily resell. There were no jewelry, no antiques, nothing that could be quickly traded for cash. The renovations were all legitimately high quality, but there was no secondary market for custom granite countertops. Even the “fancy” furniture was well below my mother’s usual expensive tastes. It was still way nicer than my old stuff Kauffman’s thugs had destroyed, but even if I sold the entire suite, I wouldn’t get enough to make meaningful progress toward my debt.
Which was, of course, the only reason my dad had deigned to pay for it.
“I don’t want it.”
“Opal!” my mother cried, her lovely eyes shooting wide in horror. “Your father—”
“My father is playing me for an idiot!” I yelled at her. “But I’m not a child anymore! He can’t just throw fancy stuff at me and expect me to forget that this is all his fault! The only reason I’m ‘living in squalor’ is because he cursed me to fail!”
“Don’t you dare try to make this his fault,” my mother said angrily. “Do you know how much it wounds him to see you like this? You are his daughter, his treasure! Even the curse you complain so much about is just proof of how much he cares. Do you think he would waste his magic, his very life’s fire, on any other mortal? You should be thankful!”
“I refuse to be thankful for my own abuse!” I cried. “He cursed me, Mom! He is actively making my life worse, and you’re defending him! Do you even realize how brainwashed you sound?”
“I’m not brainwashed,” she said, pulling herself to her full height, which was slightly taller than mine. “I am the First Mortal of the Great Yong! Cherished consort of a higher being! I’ve given your father everything that I am, and in return, he has lifted me to heights no other human could hope to achieve. He even recognized my daughter as his own. Do you comprehend the honor of that, Opal? The Great Yong has shared his power and protection with us, his dominion and wealth. When we are dead, he will honor our memories long after the rest of the world has forgotten our names. That is what it means to love and be loved by a dragon. That is what it means to be treasured. You’ll understand someday.”
“I don’t want to understand,” I said bitterly. “I don’t want to be treasured, and you shouldn’t either. We’re people, not objects.”
“A dragon doesn’t see the difference,” she said, her voice growing gentle. “I know it’s hard to understand, darling, but your father is a higher being. It’s only natural that his actions seem incomprehensible to us mere mortals, but he does cherish you, Opal. You know that, right?”
I glowered at her. “If he actually cherished me, he wouldn’t be doing this.”
“If you understood anything, you wouldn’t be making him,” she snapped back. “All he ever wanted was to keep you safe. Never forget that this entire situation was your idea! You deliberately tricked him into this idiotic debt. Now you’re blaming him for holding you to your word? Selfish girl! You constantly accuse the Great Yong of schemes and plots, but you’re the one who’s so caught up in your paranoia that you can’t even accept a gift for what it is. You’ve lost the ability to see that your father and I have only ever tried to do what is best for you!”
“Maybe if you actually asked what was best for me, I’d be able to tell when you were doing it! Because all I see you two doing is what’s best for you. You’re the ones who are obsessed with all this squalor nonsense. The only thing I’ve ever asked for is to be left alone.”
“You are our child!” my mother cried desperately. “No matter how ungrateful or selfish you act, we will never leave you alone!”
She was in my face by the time she finished, her eyes on fire, and for a moment, it almost worked. I almost felt guilty for putting my parents through all of this. Then I remembered who I was dealing with. My mother was my dad’s favorite tool, the loyal lieutenant to his evil overlord. I absolutely believed that she loved me, but her first loyalty was always to Yong. She drank the “superior being” Kool-Aid by the bucket. That was why she was First Mortal, and why I was never going back.
“Get out.”
My mother stiffened. “You will not speak to me in that tone.”
“I’ll speak to you any way I like,” I said, getting louder with each word. “This is my life and my apartment that I pay for. You have no rights here, so round up your people and get the hell out of my house!”
For a moment, I thought she was going to lose it. Just like her dragon, my mother couldn’t stand being defied. This had been a source of friction all our lives, because I couldn’t stand being dictated to. As a child, I’d had no ground to stand on, which meant I’d always had to fold, but I was no longer locked up in the Great Yong’s household where she was queen. This was the DFZ: my turf, not hers. I could dig my heels down to the Gnarls if I wanted, and I did, meeting her glare for glare until, at last, my mother stepped back.
“Attention,” she called, clapping her hands as she switched back to English to address her army of workers. “My ungrateful child has decreed your efforts are unwanted. Whatever you’re working on, just leave it as is and go. She can finish the remaining renovations on her own since she’s so independent.”
I rolled my eyes at the editorializing. But the workers must have been as eager to get away from my mom as I was, because they grabbed their stuff and ran, flooding past Nik, who was still standing guard at the front door. My mother followed more slowly, pausing here and there to smooth a tasseled throw pillow or adjust one of the tastefully boring paintings the interior decorators had hung on my walls. I kept on her the entire time, practically walking on her heels until, at last, she too made it to the doorway.
“One more thing,” she said as I was reaching out to slam my new, mostly finished security door behind her.
“What?”
She scowled at me, but then the anger fell away as her lovely face grew worried. “Be careful, Opal. Your father’s enemies are on the move.”
I shrugged. “So? They’re always on the move.”
“This is different,” she said, voice dropping to a whisper. “You were safe until a week ago because the world still thought you were under your father’s care, but thanks to your brilliant idea to call in the Peacemaker over some chickens—”
“Cockatrices, Mom. They were cockatrices.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. What matters is you made a scene, and now every dragon in the DFZ knows that Yong’s Opal is running around loose. Even worse, they know about the curse.”
“That’s not my fault,” I said. “I didn’t even know I was cursed until that Heartstriker told me.”
“Yes, well, she also told everyone else,” my mother said testily. “Thanks to her, the whole world knows you and your father are at odds. He’s already come over to deal with the fallout, but—”
“Dad’s here?” I interrupted, heart pounding. “He’s in the DFZ?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know how your father feels about the Peacemaker. He’d never stoop to asking permission to enter that ridiculous dragon’s territory. We’ve bought a house across the
river in Windsor, Canada. It’s nothing fancy, just a mansion on the river, but your father wanted to stay close while all this nonsense was being sorted out.”
Just bought a mansion on the river. Of course. Because my dad could never do anything normal like stay in a hotel.
“I cannot stress how dangerous a position your defiance has put us in,” my mother went on. “If it were up to me, you’d already be on a plane back home to Seoul. That would be the easiest solution, but your father’s indulgence knows no bounds when it comes to you. He’s already decreed that you are to be left alone until you inevitably default on your loan.”
“Really?” My dad’s rigid honor had been the basis of my entire debt ploy, but I hadn’t expected him to be that hardcore about it.
“Of course,” my mother said, lifting her chin. “Your father’s word is his bond, but that’s actually bad for you in this case. Everyone knows you’re Yong’s treasure, but now they also know there’s a rift between you. His allies see that as a gross liability, while his enemies see an opportunity to use you as leverage. Neither can be trusted not to grab you off the street for their own purposes, and thanks to your foolish ploy, there’s little your father can do to stop it.”
“I’m not afraid,” I told her stubbornly.
“You should be.”
I scowled at the implied threat, and my mother sighed. “I know you’re mad at him, darling,” she said pleadingly, reaching up to cup my cheek. “But your father is trying so hard to do what’s right for you. Even at great risk to himself, he tries. I wish you could see that.”
I sighed against her touch. This was the side of my mom that hurt the most: the one who trusted her dragon utterly and couldn’t understand why I refused to do the same. In a sad, painful way, it was comforting to know that at least my mother wasn’t trying to hurt me. She was just doing what she thought was best. Too bad her worldview was completely subservient to a selfish monster who only saw us as collectibles.
“Just go,” I said. “Please.”
My mother stroked my face one last time, and then she turned on her ridiculously high heels and left, her perfectly shiny black hair swaying with each step as she clicked down the cement walkway.
“Do I want to know what that was about?” Nik asked when she was gone.
“Only if you want to hear about stupid family drama.”
That came out more bitter than I’d intended, and Nik’s dark brows pulled into a scowl. “Do you need help?”
I looked up at him in surprise. It was such a simple question, but no one had ever offered to help me with family stuff before. At least, no one who knew what my family was. But while it would have been nice to vent to someone who was actually on my side for once, I was tired of talking about my dad.
“You’re already helping a ton,” I told him with a warm smile. “But annoying as it was, this visit is actually a good sign. If Dad’s resorted to sending Mom to meddle in my life directly, that means we’re doing well.”
“Or you could actually be in real danger,” Sibyl pointed out.
I was waving her worries away when Nik’s eyes widened in alarm, and I realized that Sibyl had just said that over my external speakers, not into my earpiece.
“Are you in danger?”
I shrugged. “I’m always in some kind of danger. I live in the DFZ.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I was too dirty to flop down on my new white furniture, so I just hunched my shoulders with a sigh. “It’s complicated. By most metrics, my dad’s a perfect dragon. He killed his father and took over his territory, he ruthlessly puts down anyone who opposes him, he has detailed plans to murder his enemies, all that normal tyrant stuff. But he’s also famously attached to his humans, and dragons being dragons, you can’t have anything you’re attached to without someone else seeing it as an opportunity.”
Nik nodded as if he understood that completely. “His enemies will come after you.”
“They’ll try,” I said. “But loath as I am to say anything nice about my dad, he’s a pretty badass dragon. He’s not the most powerful, but he’s big, old, rich, and he has a lot of human support. He’s not a beast you want to poke, in other words, which is good news for me. Everyone who’s read a fairy tale knows that the fastest way to get a dragon pissed at you is to mess with his stuff, and as much as I hate it, I definitely count as ‘his stuff.’ I mean, my name is ‘Yong-ae Opal,’ which literally means ‘Dragon’s Opal’ in Korean.”
“But there must be some risk,” Nik said. “Your mother wouldn’t have warned you if there wasn’t.”
Possibly. There was always risk when dragons were involved, but I suspected Mom had played up the danger to scare me into running back to Daddy. But that was part of the family drama I wasn’t burdening Nik with, so I just moved on.
“It’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Yong’s ruled the Korean peninsula for fifteen hundred years. You can’t be in power for that long without making a lot of enemies, but they’ve been nipping at him since way before I was born, and they’ll probably still be at it long after I’m dead. He can handle himself. I’m way more concerned about how much time my mom took up. I’m supposed to meet Peter in thirty minutes, and I haven’t even showered.”
Nik stiffened at the mention of Peter’s name. “I’ll get out of your hair, then.”
“I’m not trying to kick you out,” I said quickly. “You can stay as long as you like. I just need to—”
“It’s fine,” he said, opening my door. “I have some other business to take care of, anyway.”
“What business do you have on a Saturday night?” I knew he was a workaholic, but even Nik didn’t usually work more than ten hours a day.
His answer was an angry shrug as he walked out of my apartment. I instinctively started after him. To do what, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t like how this felt. The clash with my mom had left me angry and on edge. I couldn’t handle being on the ropes with Nik too, especially since I didn’t understand what I’d done to piss him off. Before I could take two steps, though, Nik suddenly whirled around.
“I almost forgot,” he said, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and shoving it at me. “Here.”
I took it with a frown. “What’s this?”
“Your cut from yesterday’s unit.”
My frown grew deeper. I’d thought yesterday’s unit had been breakeven. That made it a lot better than today’s, but I hadn’t been expecting any money. Especially not this much.
“Holy crap,” I said, opening the envelope, which was stuffed with cash. “What’s all this?”
Nik shrugged. “Sales from the salvage auction. Bidding was hot, so everything went for more than you estimated.”
That didn’t make sense. I didn’t go with Nik to the nightly salvage auctions because my mere presence was enough to crash prices thanks to my curse, but I was damn good at estimating value. If I was wrong about a price, it was never by more than ten percent in either direction. To make this much on a fifty percent cut, I’d have had to have be off by a factor of ten, which simply wasn’t possible. “Are you sure?”
“Are you going to make me show you the receipt?” he asked menacingly.
I backed off at once. It was clear Nik was still pissed about…whatever he was pissed about. I was starting to get pissed at him for being pissed, but I was smart enough to keep it to myself. You did not punch a gift horse in the mouth, especially when said horse was the only thing keeping you out of your father’s talons.
“Thanks,” I said instead, clutching the money to my chest.
“You’re welcome,” Nik replied, turning away again. “Should be enough to treat the death priest to something nice.”
It was enough to feed Peter and cover half my rent for the month. Hell, if he could get sales this good every time, I might actually make my payment to my dad on time after all.
Just thinking about that made me forget all about being mad at Nik. “Thank you!” I called after him.
He waved my thanks away. “So what do you want me to do with the couch?”
“The what?”
“The couch from today’s unit,” he clarified. “We brought it back for your place, but I don’t think you need it anymore now that your apartment looks like a magazine.”
I’d forgotten all about that ugly orange monstrosity. I definitely didn’t need it now, but it was still a perfectly good couch. I didn’t want to just throw it away. “Could you use it?”
Nik looked appalled. “What the hell would I do with a couch?”
“I don’t know, sit on it? I know it’s not the prettiest piece of furniture, but all you’ve got right now are folding chairs. I’m just saying it’d be nice to have something not made of metal to sit on when I come over, you know?”
He turned his back on me again. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll have Sibyl drive the truck to your place,” I called after him. “I have to return it by midnight, though, so make up your mind before then.”
But Nik was already jogging off down the open-air hall that ran along the outside of my apartment building, picking up speed with each step as if he couldn’t wait to get away from me.
***
I was late for dinner.
It was not my fault. I’m not someone who takes forever in the shower, even when it’s a new fancy shower with three inexplicable knobs, none of which seemed to control the hot water. I didn’t even get waylaid by the wall of salon-branded bottles that had overtaken the nook where my normal shampoo and conditioner should have been. No. I took a cold shower and washed the slug gunk out of my hair with whatever floral, soap-like substance my hand landed on first. The holdup came when I wrapped my shivering, dripping body in a giant monogrammed towel so fancy and slick it didn’t actually absorb water and opened my closet to discover that all of my clothes were gone.
Apparently, in addition to replacing my furniture, my mother had also decided to replace my entire wardrobe. With the exception of the filthy tank top, shorts, and Cleaning boots I’d been wearing when I’d come home, every piece of reasonable, practical clothing I owned had been removed. In their place, my fancy new dresser and closet were stuffed full of next-season couture from my mother’s favorite designers. To add insult to injury, all of the new stuff was in the size my mother felt I should be rather than the size I actually was. The only reason I was able to squeeze into any of it was because I’d been living off Cup Ramen and coffee for the last three months.