So this wasn't really about Valerian—it was about Greengrass' own morals and ideas about what a family should look like. Valerian had never asked about his father, assuming it was still a sore spot, but he could only assume that his father had loved his mother and vice versa. Valerian had never had that luxury; he was certain that his mother didn't love his husband, and his father didn't act like he loved his mother. A love match between parents was rare among people of his station.
Tears dripped down his face, but he didn't really feel sad. He wasn't sure what he felt. Bitterness? Offended? He was definitely annoyed that he'd misjudged this situation so terribly, and that he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable when he should have known that relationships like this never lasted. He distinctly remembered telling himself that, and yet he'd convinced himself Greengrass could be different.
"In no scenario would I ever have loved Tatiana the way I love you," he said. He wasn't arguing anymore—there was no point, was there? Greengrass made up his mind, and nothing he said would change how Greengrass felt. It had apparently been this way the whole time, except Valerian hadn't been aware. But he had to explain himself; he couldn't let Greengrass brand him a bad father before he walked out. "It would be like trying to love your own sister romantically, Greengrass. She was raised as mine. I either had to marry her or let her marry a man who viewed her as a shiny plaything. That was my way of showing I loved her." And showing that he was better than Charles Macmillan, but that was a subject he didn't think would earn him too many points with Greengrass.
"And no matter how my relationship with Tatiana is, I will love my child. I will be the father that he needs." Better than Eustace, at least. He'd never had a poor relationship with his father, but Valerian's relationship with his mother looked more like one that should exist between father and son. "I'm sorry you can't see that. I'm sorry you can't love me because of it."
Tears dripped down his face, but he didn't really feel sad. He wasn't sure what he felt. Bitterness? Offended? He was definitely annoyed that he'd misjudged this situation so terribly, and that he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable when he should have known that relationships like this never lasted. He distinctly remembered telling himself that, and yet he'd convinced himself Greengrass could be different.
"In no scenario would I ever have loved Tatiana the way I love you," he said. He wasn't arguing anymore—there was no point, was there? Greengrass made up his mind, and nothing he said would change how Greengrass felt. It had apparently been this way the whole time, except Valerian hadn't been aware. But he had to explain himself; he couldn't let Greengrass brand him a bad father before he walked out. "It would be like trying to love your own sister romantically, Greengrass. She was raised as mine. I either had to marry her or let her marry a man who viewed her as a shiny plaything. That was my way of showing I loved her." And showing that he was better than Charles Macmillan, but that was a subject he didn't think would earn him too many points with Greengrass.
"And no matter how my relationship with Tatiana is, I will love my child. I will be the father that he needs." Better than Eustace, at least. He'd never had a poor relationship with his father, but Valerian's relationship with his mother looked more like one that should exist between father and son. "I'm sorry you can't see that. I'm sorry you can't love me because of it."
