Graciella scowled at Dominique, not bothering to get up from her chair. “So kind of you to join us, daughter.”
Ronan cocked his head at her words and her tone. He realized that the Proxa sisters didn’t call her by her name. Her mother had, but only when she tried to force her way into Dominque’s room. Now, she was using her title of daughter.
Did they do that because they didn’t view her as a person, or was it their way of trying to dehumanize her and make her insecure?
The answer to that question would help him determine the best way to deal with the Proxas. Though it rankled him, he would wait and watch. His patience and willingness to sit back and observe before he acted had given him the upper hand in many situations over the years. He couldn’t let his anger undermine that advantage this time.
Dominique ignored her mother’s harsh words and let Ronan lead her to the chair next to Aisling’s seat. His sister smiled up at them, not her usual wide, happy grin, but a small curve of her lips.
“Good morning, Dominique,” she greeted. “Ronan.”
He nodded to her and took the seat on Dominique’s other side, leaving her sandwiched between the two of them. While he was protective of his sister, her magic rivaled his in strength. Ifhe was being honest, her power was greater than his. Only his age and experience gave him an edge. It wouldn’t be long before Aisling surpassed him. He trusted her to handle anything that might happen.
Ronan sat back as the serving girl scurried into the dining room. He ordered breakfast for Dominique before he decided what he wanted. When she nudged his ankle with her toe, he ignored it. Was he being overbearing? Of course. It was not only in his nature, but it was also trained into him. There was also the added bonus of knowing that she would have plenty of food to eat.
Before he could pour her a cup of tea, Jurgen appeared behind them, a teacup in his hand.
“Dominique, I brought your favorite tea from back home. I know it’s difficult to find in the human realm.”
She smiled graciously, but Ronan saw the twitch in her right eye. This wasn’t the sign of generosity that Jurgen was making it seem. Ronan watched as she carefully took the cup and saucer and set them beside her water glass.
When Jurgen didn’t move, Dominique made a show of picking up the cup and lifting it to her lips. Ronan opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, but her eyes met his. He watched as she pressed the rim to the edge of her lips and pretended to take a sip.
When she reached out to place the cup into the saucer, it slipped from her fingers, clattering on its side. The liquid spilled into the saucer and dripped onto the tablecloth.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry. I’m clumsy today.”
If Ronan hadn’t been watching, he would have missed the subtle way that Jurgen’s jaw flexed as he looked down at Dominique. There was a flash of hatred in his gaze, and Ronan knew that the man was aware that she wasn’t his biological child. And he loathed her for it.
“Quite all right,” Jurgen said, taking a step back. “I have more in our rooms. I’ll bring you another cup this afternoon.”
Oh, no he wouldn’t, Ronan decided. But he kept his mouth shut. It was clear that Jurgen and Graciella spent their journey here scheming, exactly as Dominique had predicted.
Ronan wondered exactly what Jurgen’s power was. Being married into the Proxa family, much of the focus was on his wife and daughters. Males couldn’t wield the magic of fairy godmothers, so they often inherited recessive magic that passed from male to male in those family lines.
He realized that he’d never seen Jurgen use his magic, and it caused a chill to run down his spine. He wasn’t sure what the sort of magic the man had. As soon as the meal was over, he would go to his father’s study and find the records Caden kept on every fae male or female who spent more than a passing night in the castle. He needed to know what he was up against.
The kitchen girl brought two plates into the dining room, setting them down in front of Ronan and Dominique. Ronan nodded to her, murmuring a thank-you, but his eyes were fixed on a small circle facing him on the rim of his plate. The staff that handled their meals knew to make sure that little circle faced any member of the royal family when they set it down in front of them.
The dot was a simple spell to determine if the food had been tampered with in any way. Spells, potions, and poisons would cause the circle to turn red. If the food was safe to consume, the circle remained white, outlined by a thin black line.
Ronan noticed that his circle was white, but Dominique’s was red. When she reached for her fork, he made a show of laying his fingers over her hand, lacing them together.
“You should share with me, darling. I believe they brought you the wrong meal,” he stated, loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.
Dominique’s hand tensed beneath his fingers, those arctic blue eyes darting up to meet his. Ronan glanced down at her plate, then at his own, her own gaze following the movement of his stare. He felt the moment she noticed the red circle on her plate because her fingers tightened around his. Her grip was nearly painful.
He heard the serving woman whisper an apology and saw the frantic jumping of her eyes. He hated that he was scaring her, but he had little choice.
“It’s fine,” he said, waving a hand imperiously at Dominique’s food. “You may remove the plate. I have more than enough for both of us.”
The serving woman scooped up the plate and darted out of the dining room. He would find her and apologize when the meal was over. But only after he determined that she wasn’t the culprit.
He doubted she was involved as she’d been working in the kitchens and dining room for nearly a decade, but trust wasn’t something he gave as a matter of course.
Ronan could practically feel the fierce gazes of Dominque’s mother and stepfather as he fed a few bites of his breakfast to his fiancée. Then, he ate a few more bites himself.
He had no doubt that the only reason his plate hadn’t been tampered with was because using magic or potions on a member of the royal family without their permission was an automatic death sentence. No, Graciella and Jurgen were cunning enough to bespell Dominique first and have her administer whatever they intended to give him. That way, their hands stayed clean, and no one would know they were involved unless they examined the situation closely. Even then, it would be nearly impossible to prove what her family had done.
