Chapter Text
“You’re cuckoo bananas.” Kaz whispers in disbelief, sinking into the plush of the chaise lounge as reality finally hits.
“Grow up,” Agatha snaps, “It’s time to secure the family legacy, and we’re lucky enough to do so in a way that’ll be infinitely lucrative.”
Behind her, Charles is dusting the elegant wooden frame of the newest addition to Kaz’s art collection. This particular addition to his penthouse apartment’s walls was a gift from his Aunt Angelique’s personal collection.
La Fiancée Hésitante, or The Hesitant Fiancée, is an effort by Angelique to add what she has described in her letter as a “much needed feminine touch” to Kaz’s home. Auguste Toulmouche’s oil painting, dated 1866, is now in full view of Kaz as his mecha butler moves out of the way. The eyes of the titular Fiancée bore into Kaz’s pink soul.
It feels like a cruel prank.
“Oh, so when I was dating Cathy, it wouldn’t work out with an East Side girl, but you want me to marry this East Side brat?”
“Cathy was a nobody, Kaz. The Corelli boy is the scion of one of Neo Yokio’s most influential founding families. You could do much worse than Theodore Corelli’s triple great grandson.”
“You said he was a buffoon!”
“He’s a suitable match for you, Kaz.”
“Thanks.” Kaz lets out a sharp, bitter laugh.
Agatha looks at her nephew’s offended expression, bemused behind her Celine sunglasses. She remembers a time when Kaz was still small, and apparently, had pretend-married Arcangelo Corelli on the playground.
She wonders if Kaz remembers.
“You’ll learn to like him,” Agatha says, “Besides, that’s not important— what’s important is your obligation to this family, and this city. A union between the old families and the Magistocrats, on this scale? Just think what that could mean for the family, for Neo Yokio.”
“Oh, you mean for our profits.” Kaz frowns. “What’s in it for the Corellis?”
“Prestige, of course. Kaz, the old families recognize your standing as Neo Yokio’s finest magistocratic exorcist—“
“Oh, no, no, no,” Kaz interrupts, “Remember what you’ve told me my entire life about how East Siders see us? Prestige be damned, we’re nothing more than neo riche rat catchers!” He mutters the last few words, struggling to get them out.
Agatha sighs heavily. “I’ll level with you, Kaz, it’s not all prestige. You and Arcangelo are playing a part in something bigger than any of us. It’s… partly something of a political maneuver.“
“The Corellis are aligning themselves with the Magistocrats to secure a voting bloc? Is that it?” He sneers, “Certainly makes a lot more sense than the prestige angle. They’re using us, Aunt Agatha.”
“And we’re using them!” Agatha retorts, patience for her nephew’s irreverence wearing thin. “Use your head. Do you think I haven’t thought this through?”
“I don’t care. None of this matters to me, this is my life we’re talking about!”
“Your life isn’t going to change as much as you think, Kaz. This marriage is a formality… You can do as you please. Ultimately, all it means is you’re in with the Corellis, and eventually, you’ll settle down and have a designer test tube baby. Who cares.”
“I care! Why are we even discussing babies?!” Kaz sits upright, positively reeling. “Good grief!”
“You’re overreacting,” Agatha assures him, “This alliance finally gives you an excuse to show up to all those social events you’re so invested in. Think of the status this’ll earn you.”
“I don’t want to! Aunt Agatha, please, we have to call this off. I can’t stand Arcangelo, and he can’t stand me! I’m too young for marriage, anyway!” Kaz's begging only serves to irritate his aunt, who immediately shoots him a glare.
“Too young?” Agatha scoffs, “Be reasonable.”
“I’ve barely lived!” Kaz whines, “I just missed Neo Yokio Fashion Week because all I do is work! Have you no sympathy?”
“You’ll have more time than ever for frivolous bullshit like that once you’re married.“
“What do you mean?”
“The Lord Mayor predicts this union will discourage demonic threats," Agatha explains, "Less of that, less work for you. And with the Corellis backing you, income will hardly be an issue.”
“Uh, what? The Lord Mayor?” Kaz asks, eyebrows furrowing.
“I told you, Kaz, this is bigger than you or Corelli.”
Only weeks prior, the Lord Mayor had convened a quiet meeting of the Kaans and Corellis to tackle the subject of unifying the new and old families. Theirs was a city divided, the Mayor had said, and that meant they were needlessly vulnerable in the face of a common enemy.
She neither agreed or cared— but Agatha Kaan knows a smart play when she sees one.
“…I don’t want to be a pawn in this, Aunt Agatha.” Kaz protests weakly, barely digesting this information. He sounds defeated, and he is. If this is the Lord Mayor's will, then there's nothing he can realistically do about it. Any effort to fight this would only serve to damage both his career and his family's standing.
Agatha's expression softens, unusually sympathetic. She can see that he's given in. “I’m afraid I'm not offering you a choice, Kaz. If the old families are going to meet the Magistocrats halfway, then they want our best-- and that’s you. You should be flattered.”
“I don’t know about flattered. Nauseous, maybe.” He mutters, watching Charles approach with silver tray in hand.
They sit in tense quietude as the mechabutler serves lemon tea, feigning some sense of normalcy for his Master’s sake. Kaz’s gaze lifts to the painting once more, drowning in his own melancholy as he observes the bride’s delicate features. She stares back at him, as though he can somehow save her.
He breaks the silence.
“Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“I do what’s best for you.” Agatha pauses to sip at her tea. “That won’t always make you happy. You’ll understand, eventually.”