“You should ask him,” I whisper. I want to get this kid talking, and who better to loosen his lips than my adorable grandmother?
I arch an eyebrow when Edmund pulls out Arden’s chair for her.Two points, Grandma mouths.
My father chooses that moment to reveal himself, and I wonder where he’s been all this time. Introductions are made, and we all sit down as my mother fills the water goblets and then brings out a tray of brown-sugar-roasted chestnuts wrapped in bacon. Dad pops one of the hors d’oeuvres into his mouth.
“Matthias!” My mother slaps his hand and glares at him, but he just chews obstinately. “I’m sorry, Edmund. We usually have better manners around here.”
“I’m glad you told me, or I might have done the same,” he says, then charmingly spoons a few onto his plate before tossing one between his teeth. “Delicious.”
“Thank you, Edmund.” My mother preens.
“Ms. Larkspur,” Edmund says suddenly, and I realize after a few seconds that he’s addressing me.
“Oh, you mean me. The only one I think of as Ms. Larkspur is my mother, although I suppose she’s a Mrs.” I laugh awkwardly, then sit up straighter. “Yes, Edmund, you have my full attention.”
Arden curls her lip in a silent plea for me to be more normal. I try my best.
“Arden tells me you’re working at the casino. My family is terribly curious. Can you talk about it? Or has the Delaney family sworn you to secrecy?”
I stymie my surprise at his immediate interest in what I do and answer honestly. “No, I can talk about it. I’m teaching poker classes to humans. It’s the first time they’ve tried anything like this, but so far it’s extremely successful. All my classes are full.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you learn?”
The truth is that Seven taught me, but telling Edmund that would reveal far too much. For one, I’d be admitting to a crime back then and also letting on to a romantic connection between Seven and me. That’s no one else’s business but my own and could possibly cause more trouble in the wrong hands. Sadly, my newfound flirtation with honesty must be short-lived.
“Self-taught.” Not a complete lie. Is there any knowledge we attain that isn’t in some way acquired through our own devices? “I developed my skills when I was living in America,” I add through a shallow smile, also not a lie. “Although I don’t recommend that route. Much safer and closer to family to learn here if you can find someone to teach you.”
“Exciting though. It’s an incredible opportunity…”
Our eyes meet over the table as he trails off, and I get the distinct impression he was about to add “for a pixie.” While I admire him for cutting himself off before he said it, I’m fairly sure he thought it, and my impression of him falls a few rungs. Or maybe I’m putting words in his head. I tell myself to give the boy the benefit of the doubt and snag a bacon-wrapped chestnut from the tray, filling my mouth with it before I can say something I might regret.
Grandma chooses that moment to swoop in and take over the conversation. She smiles sweetly. “Edmund, I didn’t catch your last name.”
“Faust,” Arden answers for him, her fingers threading into his.
Grandma’s eyes widen and I lean my chin against my fist, wondering what’s going on in that pretty gray head of hers. “You’re Alicia and Gregory’s son?”
Edmund nods. “Yes… but my father died when I was two. It’s just my mother and me now.”
Grandmother smooths the cloth napkin in her lap. “Of course. Please forgive an old lady. I think I remember your father, you see, as well as your mother’s parents, Vivian and FelixArmon, right?”
“Armon?” my father chimes in. “Your family owns Armon Trucking?”
I straighten and dart a glance between Edmund and Grandma. Arden had said his family did something with cars. I’d thought maybe his father was a driver like Saul or owned the Elderflame dealership. Never did I guess Arden was dating an heir to an empire! Armon Trucking isthecommercial transportation company in Devashire. We have an airport, but all the planes and helicopters in it are privately owned. Trains exist in Dragonfly Hollow to take humans from place to place within the theme park, but because most of our population outside the parks is concentrated in and around Elderflame, there’s no need for train service there. Which leaves shuttles and buses to transport people, and trucks to transport goods inside and outside Devashire. The Armons own and run all of it. Every apple, every vehicle, every bolt of fabric in Devashire, with rare exception, has traveled at some point on or in an Armon vehicle.
Edmund takes a drink of water, his lips curling in a proud smile. “Yes, they do. My mother runs it now. Grandma and Grandpa retired some years ago, leaving everything to her.”
The table turns strangely silent for a beat, probably just a second or two, but it feels longer. I narrow my eyes on Grandma, who is suspiciously eating a chestnut with tiny bites and lots of chewing like she’s trying to keep her mouth busy. She does not look at me.
A niggle starts in my gut. Something bothers me about Edmund. I’m not sure if it’s just a prejudice against rich people leaking into my opinion of him now that I know just how wealthy he is or if it’s something else, but there’s something familiar about him. Something I want to protect Arden from, although I can’t put my finger on it.
“Did you play any sports at Bailiwick’s?” I ask cheerfully, filling the silence.
“Bowbin. I was a right wing.”
My father claps his hands. “It’s been ages since I watched the Bailiwick’s Basilisks play. I’m sorry I missed this year.”
Arden shakes her head. “Wait, I never knew this about you. What’s bowbin?”
