Valor didn't go to his room. He went to the study.
The heavy oak door was ajar. Inside, the room smelled of leather and pipe tobacco. A fire was dying in the hearth.
Robert was sitting in his armchair, reading a book by the light of a green banker's lamp. He looked up as Valor entered.
"Couldn't sleep?" Robert asked, closing his book.
Valor didn't answer. He walked over to the sideboard, poured himself a finger of scotch, and downed it in one swallow. He turned to his father.
"I can't do it, Dad," Valor said.
Robert took off his reading glasses. He looked at his son—really looked at him. He saw the tension in his shoulders, the misery etched into his face.
"Can't do what?" Robert asked gently.
"I can't be her brother," Valor said. The confession hung in the air, heavy and dangerous. "I can't pretend anymore. I tried. For two years, I tried. I stayed away. I dated other people. I focused on school. But she walks through that door... and it's like I'm bleeding out."
Robert didn't look shocked. He didn't look angry. He looked thoughtful. He gestured to the chair opposite him.
"Sit down, Valor."
Valor sat. He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. "I'm in love with her, Dad. I think I've been in love with her since I was seventeen. And I know... I know it's sick. I know we're family now. I know you and Elena are married. I know I'm supposed to just be her stepbrother."
He looked up, tears of frustration in his eyes. "But I can't turn it off. Seeing her with that guy... it's killing me. I feel like I'm losing my mind."
Robert sighed. He picked up his pipe, tapping it against the ashtray. He looked at the fire for a long moment.
"You know," Robert began slowly, "when I met Elena, I was terrified. Not because of the dating, but because of you two. I worried about blending the families. I worried about the dynamics."
He turned his gaze to Valor.
"I'm not blind, son. I saw how you looked at her at the wedding. I saw how you looked at her tonight at dinner."
Valor braced himself for the lecture. For the disgust.
"I thought it would pass," Robert admitted. "I thought it was just a high school crush. But it hasn't passed, has it?"
"No," Valor whispered. "It's gotten worse."
Robert nodded. He leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers.
"You are twenty-one years old, Valor. Tesse is twenty. You are adults."
"We're siblings," Valor argued against himself. "Legally."
"You are step-siblings," Robert corrected him. "By marriage. There is no blood between you. You didn't grow up in the same crib. You met when you were practically grown."
Valor blinked. He hadn't expected this.
"Society likes to put labels on things," Robert continued, his voice pragmatic and calm. "People like to talk. They like to judge. 'Step-siblings' sounds scandalous to people who don't know the details. But the law? The law doesn't care, Valor."
Valor sat up straighter. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Robert said, looking him dead in the eye, "that there is no legal impediment to you and Tesse. If you were blood relatives, it would be illegal and immoral. But you aren't. You are two unrelated people whose parents happened to marry each other."
The room went silent. The fire popped in the grate.
Valor felt a strange sensation in his chest. It was the feeling of a cage door unlocking.
"You're saying..." Valor started, his voice trembling. "You're saying you wouldn't... hate me?"
"Hate you?" Robert smiled sadly. "Valor, I want you to be happy. I want Tesse to be happy. If that happiness is found with each other, who am I to stand in the way of it? It would be awkward, yes. It would be complicated to explain to the neighbors. But it isn't wrong. Not where it counts."
He leaned forward again.
"But there is one problem, isn't there?" Robert asked. "She brought a boyfriend home."
Valor's expression hardened. The despair was gone, replaced by a new, cold resolve.
"He's not the one," Valor said. "I know he's not. She's lying. I can feel it."
"Then that is between you and her," Robert said. He picked up his book again. "I can give you legal advice, son. I can give you my blessing to follow your heart. But I can't win the girl for you. That part is up to you."
Valor stood up. He felt lighter than he had in years. The crushing weight of the taboo—the fear that he was a monster for wanting his stepsister—had evaporated. His father, the man he respected most, had given him the key.
*There is no blood.*
He wasn't a monster. He was just a man in love with a woman who happened to be in the room next door.
"Thanks, Dad," Valor said.
"Go to bed, Valor," Robert said kindly. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Miracles happen."
Valor walked out of the study. He didn't go to the kitchen. He walked up the stairs, past the guest room where Julian was sleeping, and stopped in front of Tesse's door.
He stared at the wood. He could hear the faint sound of her moving inside.
He didn't knock. Not yet.
He touched the doorframe, a promise forming in his mind. The shield of "brother" was gone. The guilt was gone.
Julian was just an obstacle. Tesse's lies were just defenses.
Valor smiled in the darkness. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a man who realized the war wasn't over—it had just begun, and for the first time, he was allowed to fight back.