Her outburst was childish, but not out of character for her. Tiberius watched coolly as she railed against him. In another set of circumstances, he might have been tempted to roll his eyes.

"Do you think I care whether you're bored?" he asked when she'd finished, his tone flat. "Someday I'm going to have an heir, and you'll need to be in society often enough to feign a pregnancy. If you can't manage that, you're no use to me at all." The words were said without emotion. He didn't imagine they would hurt her. She had made it quite clear she despised him and would rather have done anything in the world than take her marriage vows. She had only behaved herself in the past due to spite, really, or as part of a scheme to do something awful to cousin Ellory.

She probably would have been happier as a permanent cat, come to think of it. Did he have any reason to stop her? They could feign her death easily enough. Tiberius had already thought through the process on several occasions before, when Antigone had gone missing for one reason or another. Every plan he'd made before had involved working around the disadvantage of not having a body. If Antigone were to cooperate with the scheme, it would be almost painfully easy. He could remarry after a year or two, to a woman whose insides still functioned, who could bear him a son. He'd already gone through the work of setting up the deal with Cassius, but he could still uphold his end of the deal easily enough. He just wouldn't need the son any longer.

A new wife would be easier, he knew. He was better at manipulation, better at legilimency, better at the Imperius Curse — but even if he used none of those tools, no one could ever hope to be as difficult as Antigone.