"Dad?"
The word came out small, uncertain.
"They want you, Elena."
He forced himself to look at her directly, to not look away, to own this moment.
"They specifically requested you. The President's daughter. No one else will do."
The color drained from her face, leeching away until her skin looked almost gray in the fading light. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair, knuckles going white.
For several heartbeats, she just stared at him.
Waiting. Hoping. Praying that he would laugh, would tell her it was some kind of horrible joke, some sick test of her reaction.
But he didn't laugh.
"They want... me?"
Her voice came out barely above a whisper, the words catching in her throat.
"To marry the Lycan King? The one they call the Butcher of Blackwood? The one who...."
She stood abruptly, the book tumbling from her lap to the floor with a thud that seemed too loud in the quiet room.
"Tell me you said no."
The words came out hard, demanding.
"Tell me you refused. Tell me you walked out of that room the second they suggested it."
"Of course I refused," he said quickly, desperately. "I told them absolutely not. I said it wasn't on the table, would never be on the table. I made it clear that you are not....."
"But?"
She cut him off, her voice sharp as a knife.
"I can hear it in your voice, Dad. There's a but coming. There's always a but."
He swallowed hard.
"But they made it clear this is their only offer. Marriage alliance or continued war. They won't negotiate other terms. They won't accept alternatives."
He stood as well, needing to be on her level, needing to make her understand.
"And the advisors... they think we should at least consider...."
"Consider?"
Elena's voice rose, cracking with something that might have been fear but sounded more like fury.
"Consider sacrificing me? Consider handing me over to those creatures like some kind of peace offering?"
She laughed, but there was no humor in it, just a wild, jagged edge that made his chest tighten.
"How could you, Dad? How could you even entertain this idea for a second? How could you come home and tell me about it like it's something that might actually happen?"
"I didn't! I'm not!" He reached for her, but she stepped back sharply, putting the chair between them.
"Elena, listen to me. I'm on your side. I told them to find another solution. I refused their proposal. I'm not asking you to do this...."
"And yet here you are."
Her eyes were bright now, shining with unshed tears, but her voice was hard.
"Here you are, in my room, telling me about it. Explaining the situation. Asking me to... what? To understand? To consider the greater good? To sacrifice myself for the people?"
She wrapped her arms around herself, a defensive gesture that broke something in his chest.
"I'm your daughter. How could you even bring this to me? How could you make me think about it, imagine it, picture myself married to that, that beast?"
"Because I had to!"
The words burst out of him, louder than he intended, sharp with his own pain and frustration and fear.
"Because they're right that we're running out of options. Because fifty-three people died yesterday, Elena. Fifty-three. And fifty-three more will die tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that."
His voice cracked.
"Because I can't make decisions about your life without you knowing what's at stake. Because you're an adult and you deserve to know the truth, even when the truth is horrible."
He took a shaking breath.
"I'm not asking you to do this, Elena. I would never ask you to do this. But you deserved to know what's happening. What they're demanding. What the cost of refusing might be."
"The cost?"
She stared at him, and something in her expression shifted, hardened.
"You're talking about the cost? The cost of refusing to hand over your daughter to a pack of wild animals? That's the cost we're worried about?"
"That's not what I...."
"That's exactly what you meant."
Her voice had gone cold now, the tears drying up, replaced by something harder, more calculating.
"You're already thinking about it, aren't you? Already weighing the options. One life versus thousands. My future versus the war effort. It's just math to you."
"That's not fair...."
"Isn't it?"
She laughed again, bitter and sharp.
"You've spent my entire life making decisions based on what's best for the country, for the people. Why would this be any different? Why would I suddenly matter more than your precious political calculations?"
"Because you're my daughter!" The words tore out of him. "Because I love you more than anything in this world. Because the thought of you with him, with that creature, living in that place....."