“What about me?” I asked, knowing the answer was not meant for my ears, for Francis nervously pulled on the collar of his shirt.
“Roxanne has finally lost her mind tonight, you see.” Francis rushed to reply, cutting Roxanne off.
Her smirk grew bigger as she finished her drink, setting the empty goblet down on the table. “Is that a bite on your neck?” She pointed at the collar of my dress.
My brows rose at her boldness—that lacked the unusual venom—as a bright smile stretched her lips.
“You are being childish, Rox.” Francis sighed, shaking his head, though a shadow of a smile still brightened his lips.
“I am merely expressing joy for your happiness.” Roxanne laughed, taking a spoonful of Florence’s soup. “Am I not allowed to feel happiness for you?” She pouted.
Pouted!
“I can’t even leave you for an hour it seems,” Florence mumbled, demanding her spoon back.
“Cordelia,” Roxanne giggled, reaching for my hand. “I meant to tell you how truly glorious you look tonight.” She frownedbefore adding, “And always! You always look glorious!" Roxanne dropped my hand, turning to Florence, though it seemed she was more interested in her soup...
Shehaslost her mind, indeed.
I breathed in the contents of the pitcher by Roxanne’s goblet, the smell of moonshine reaching my senses. “Is she drunk?” I faced Francis, pointing at her long empty goblet.
“Very much so.” Francis fought the smile off his lips, in vain, as he leaned back in his chair; the back of my neck prickled, his eyes boring into my flesh. He winked at me before his gaze traveled back to Roxanne.
“Perhaps Francis will stop writing sad music for once!” Roxanne’s bright laughter traveled with the sounds of the fiddle. “Isn’t that thrilling?”
“I don’t write sad music,” Francis chuckled.
“Yes, you do.” Florence nodded, sending another spoonful of soup into her mouth.
“You do!” Roxanne’s eyes sparkled. “And I love it! Your music is divine! A talent sent from the Moon!”
I wasn’t sure which Roxanne I preferred: the gloomy one or the joyful one—both terrified me equally.
“So many compliments in one day...” Francis’s hand reached for mine. “You are doing no good for myarrogance, Rox.” Francis’ eyes flickered to me as his hand wrapped around mine.
Roxanne's delight grew bigger at the scene. “You are not arrogant!” She argued. “You are very humble and...” Roxanne sighed, a bright smile tugging on her lips. “I love all of you so much!” She declared at last.
“All right.” Florence moved the pitcher to the edge of the table: away from Roxanne. “You’ve definitely had enough.”
Roxanne merely laughed in reply. “Simon!” Her smile somehow got brighter. “We’ve missed you so much!”
“We saw each other earlier tonight, remember?“ He chuckled at Roxanne, putting a bowl of soup in front of her before turning to me. “What do you fancy on this fine night, Cordelia?” He murmured. “The pumpkin soup is tonight’s favorite. The caramel fudge is still hot.”
“I am not hungry.” I shook my head; my stomach turning upside down with anxiety at the mere idea of human blood. “Thank you.”
“Are you certain?” Simon didn’t give up. “I made the dessert special for you.”
“I—” The words abandoned me, unable to argue with his generosity.
As I was about to agree to the meal, out of guilt for the time Simon spent, Francis spoke on my behalf, “She said, she wasn’t hungry, Simon.” His voice dropped an octave.
Simon put his hands up in surrender, his brows furrowing at Francis’ sudden tone. “Very well then. Next time.”
The warmth stretched up my neck, reaching my cheeks. “Thank you, Simon,” I added, forcing a small smile onto my face.
“Where is Ash?” Florence chewed on a—soaked in blood—piece of bread, saving me from the embarrassing interaction.
“Oh, Ash is upstairs, working on their new project.” Simon pulled a chair from a nearby table, taking his seat at the head of ours. “A set of arrows for Gilbert,” he explained. “With Kane gone, Ash’s hands are full, given they are the only knowledgeable blacksmith around here.”
