“Holy shit,” she breathes after swallowing, and the crude language sounds absolutely perfect coming from her lips. “That’s so fucking delicious!”
I smile with deep satisfaction at her obvious pleasure. “I told you they were renowned throughout the world for their duck. They’ve had quite some time to perfect their recipe to absolute perfection.”
“What’s ‘quite some time’?” she asks while immediately cutting into another generous bite. “How long have you been ordering from there?” Before lifting the fork to her mouth, she takes an appreciative sip of the wine.
I can’t help but laugh at her phrasing. “They’ve certainly had numerous staff changes over the years, but I’ve been patronizing that establishment since they first opened their doors in 1582.”
She coughs violently, spraying wine across the table as her eyes go comically wide. “What?” She continues coughing, reaching for her linen napkin. “Did you just say you’ve been going there since?—”
Oh, this is delicious fun. I’m thoroughly enjoying myself now. “1582, yes. It’s the oldest restaurant in all of Paris, atleast among those still operating. So as I mentioned, they’ve had considerable time to perfect their culinary artistry.”
“Holy shit.” She lifts her wine goblet and drinks far more than a delicate sip, those magnificent dark eyes fixed on me the entire time. “I mean, I’ve always had a thing for older men, but...” She wipes her mouth again with the napkin. “Exactly how old are we talking here?”
I grin widely, enjoying her obvious fascination. “What is it you mortals always say? Age is merely a number?”
“Yeah, and we all know that’s complete bullshit even when we say it,” she retorts with delightful boldness. “So seriously, how old?”
I shrug with studied casualness. “I genuinely couldn’t give you a precise figure. Kingdoms rise and fall, empires crumble to dust, entire civilizations vanish into legend. My brothers and I simply... remain.”
Her already wide eyes somehow manage to get even wider, and I can practically see her mind reeling with the implications.
I gesture toward her plate with gentle authority. “Don’t allow it to grow cold, my dear. It’s a genuine insult to waste the finest cuisine Paris has to offer.” As someone who has often gone hungry during long campaigns with my youngest brother, I know the true value of exceptional food. But I decide not to overwhelm my sweet, wide-eyed consort with too many shocking revelations all at once.
Her gaze lingers on me with obvious fascination, but she eventually tears her attention away to focus on her meal, taking another bite of the perfectly prepared duck. Her entire body seems to relax as she chews, and I’m delighted to discover that not even my apparently earth-shattering revelation can distract her from the sensual pleasures of exceptional cuisine.
I, too, am particularly fond of the pleasures of the flesh in all their varied forms. I take a long, contemplative sip of wine while watching her with undisguised interest.
“So tell me more about this impossibly long life of yours,” she says after swallowing. “And tell me about your brother.” She picks up her wine glass and gestures casually toward the back of my head. “I want to know about him.”
“I have many brothers,” I transition smoothly, deliberately avoiding the specific topic of Romulus. “Perhaps too many, some might argue.”
I ignore the telltale tightening in my jaw and instead regale her with carefully edited stories about Abaddon, our eldest and most insufferably self-righteous sibling, always convinced he’s the gods’ gift to creation. And Kharon, who used to go by Thing until he met his deadly Russian wife and discovered he actually possessed a personality.
“Layden’s our youngest brother—brilliant with all those confusing modern gadgets and computers. You’ll find him quite charming when you meet him.”
She immediately pulls a small, rectangular device from her pocket. “Perfect! I was wondering if there’s Wi-Fi here because I can’t get even a single bar of cell reception anywhere in this place. Do you happen to know the password?”
I stare at the glowing rectangle with the same blank incomprehension that all of us experience when Layden starts enthusiastically explaining his strange collection of plastic devices that light up in his hands. When exactly did humans become so impossibly clever with their tools? Millennia of them barely managing to master fire and basic metallurgy, then you get chained to a wall for two measly centuries, and suddenly they’ve made the entire world light up with artificial suns.
She rolls her eyes with good-natured exasperation. “Never mind, I’ll ask Layden when he gets back. Speaking of which—you said they’re all on vacation? When do they return?”
I wave a dismissive hand. “Enough about my tedious brothers and their romantic escapades. Tell me aboutyou, my fascinating consort.”
“Me?” She laughs, and the sound is like music. “I’m pretty sure my completely boring life isn’t going to interest someone who’s been around for literal thousands of years.”
“But youaremy consort,” I declare with passionate conviction. “Every single detail about you interests me immensely. I want to know your entire past so I can understand what has shaped you and brought you to this perfect moment.”
She takes another bite of duck and averts her gaze, and I immediately sense a shift in her mood.
I frown, genuinely puzzled. Hannah-wife is always delighted to chatter endlessly about herself and her various opinions, but perhaps Kharon’s lethal bride is naturally slower to open up about personal matters. Unless, of course, you engage her on her favorite subject, which consists entirely of the most effective types of blades for efficiently killing a man. But I have a distinct feeling it’s not a former career in assassination that’s keeping Lo-Ren’s lovely lips sealed so tightly.
“Why will you not speak openly with me?”
When she looks back, those dark eyes seem lit with some inner fire I cannot begin to understand. “Is this how things work in your world? You issue commands, and everyone just asks how high to jump?”
I consider her question, thinking back to millennia of interactions with mortals, gods, and everything in between. Though she’s posed it as if it’s somehow unreasonable, I answer with complete honesty. “Yes, that’s exactly how it works.”
Her mouth drops open in obvious shock. “And that’s seriously how you expect this relationship to go? With me?”
