"Father, I was wrong!"
"Smack."
"Father, I really was wrong!"
"Smack, smack."
"Father, just tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me!"
"Forgive you? Are you joking?"
Watching Ross hanging there while Hogg gave him the belt treatment, Saint Jelena curled up on the sofa and laughed happily. She pulled out a can of special-issue machine oil, stuck in a straw, and started drinking as she fanned the flames:
"Father, you can't let him off! He's been pocketing a third of the allowance Emilia gives you every month, then sneaking into your little stash to take the rest. On top of that, he's made a fortune selling counterfeit goods. You have no idea how rich he is."
"Oh, my dear ancestor, please stop talking." Ross shut his eyes and silently pleaded with her. Was it really just because he hadn't given her a share? People died when their heads were chopped off; now his father was actually going to beat him to death!
But the beating he expected never came. Ross opened his eyes and found his Primarch gazing at him with a strange look, as though he were some rare treasure. That only made him panic even more.
"It's not a capital offense, Father! I haven't dared spend a single coin I stole. It's all hidden in the gap in my bedroom wall. Don't look at me like that—I'm scared."
"Scared? I don't think you're scared. I think you know you can't escape this beating. You little ingrate, you actually stole my allowance! I've got so little to begin with, and I still have to share it with that unlucky bastard Malice.
"That was all my money!"
After a few curses, Ross felt much more at ease. As a tough-skinned member of Blackwatch, he'd maxed