Twisted-Games

meant Bridget gained the upper hand. Politics was a game and losing a match
—especially to someone Erhall deemed inferior for no other reason than her
gender—had to sting.
The grandfather clock ticked in the corner, the passing of seconds
deafening in the silence.
Finally, Erhall’s shoulders slumped, and a thrill of victory darted through
me. “Even if I bring the motion to the floor, Parliament will never pass it,” he
said spitefully. “Public opinion only takes you so far.”
Bridget’s smile didn’t waver. “Let me worry about the rest of Parliament.
You do your part, and the world never has to know about your indiscretion.
You might even sit in the Prime Minister’s seat one day. But remember, Mr.
Speaker, I’m going to be queen. And I will still be queen long after your
political career is over and you’re hawking your memoir about your glory
days on morning talk shows. So, it’s in your best interest to work with me
and not make things difficult. Don’t you agree?”
Erhall was an asshole, but he wasn’t an idiot. “Fine. I’ll open the motion
at the next session of Parliament,” he said, tone sullen.
“Excellent.” Bridget rose from her seat. “I do love a productive meeting.
Mr. Larsen, is there anything else you’d like to add?”
I stared at Erhall. While certain things he said and did pissed me off, my
overall feelings toward my father had shifted from loathing to indifference.
Whatever hold he had over me, it was gone.
“I spent my life building you up in my mind,” I said. “You were the
decision that changed two lives irrevocably, the monster who changed my
mother into the monster she became. I could’ve found out your identity a
long time ago, but I chose not to. I told myself it was because I didn’t trust
myself enough not to kill you for what you did”—Erhall flinched and scooted
back another inch—“but the truth is, I was scared of facing the ghost that had
haunted me my entire life, even when I was convinced ghosts weren’t real.
What was he like, the man that was technically one half of me? How would
he react when he found out I was his son?”
The muscle in Erhall’s jaw jumped again.
“Well, I finally faced him, and you know what I realized?” I looked him
straight in the eye. Not an iota of anything other than apathy passed through
me. “He’s not a monster. He’s a sad, pathetic little man who was too much of
a coward to own up to the consequences of his actions, and I wasted decades
letting him have more power over my life than he deserved. So no, I don’t