“You did. You said you finally let that old geezer have it and he kicked you out.”
“I did. He did. Well, actually, I stormed out and promised never to return. But I haven’t quit the Trials. Dante is depending on me.”
They all looked at each other in quiet surprise. Apparently, my entrance and my subsequent declaration that I would be living with them had been more misleading than I’d hoped.
“But—”
“Dante is welcome for dinner, you know,” my mother said clearly, her tone firm and daring anyone to question her, or me. “Any time.”
I nodded, though I made no promises. I didn’t want to invite Dante to dinner. I didn’t even want to think about him. Things between us had become too confusing. I still hadn’t completely forgiven him for defending his grandfather’s actions in regard to Olympia’s attempt to murder me, something I wouldn’t be telling my family. And I couldn’t help but wonder now if he’d known about what happens after the tenth Trial all along and either kept it from me willingly or foolishly believed I already knew. That I would’ve made any of the decisions to continue competing if I had. And this betrothal, the weight of the ring on my finger, the memory of his body pressed against mine, was muddying the waters even further.
“Bria is a good person,” I said instead, looking right at Maurice.
Warren stopped chewing, Dahlia looked up from her soup, even my mother closed her eyes and took a breath. Maurice paused in his chewing and watched me, waiting for me to continue.
“You know an acolyte is restricted from marrying, though, don’t you?”
He nodded. Maurice finished chewing and set his sandwich back onto his plate. He brushed the crumbs from his hands. “If she officially enters religious service, yes.”
“She hasn’t yet?”
He shook his head. “She never signed the papers. Cosmo told her to wait. Just in case, he said. I don’t know what possibility he was preparing for, but I highly doubt it was this one.”
Maurice smiled, actually smiled. I was so taken aback, I could do nothing but stare at my oldest brother. It was only a smirk, and given simply from pure joy at the thought of Cosmo’sdiscomfort, but it was a smile all the same. Morose Maurice still had a bit of joy left in his shriveled up old heart after all.
I snorted. Then chuckled. Pretty soon, I was bent over the table, laughing hysterically. The others all joined in.
We were wiping tears from our eyes, gazing around the room, beaming at one another. It’d been too long since we’d all smiled, since we’d had something to laugh about. It felt good. It reminded us of who we were. And it was the beginning of a bridge built over that fragile gap.
Someone knocked on the door.
Maurice’s smile faltered, as did my own, but my mother was the one who stood.
“I’ll see who that is,” she told us cheerfully and headed for the hall.
“Is it true that the Trials get more dangerous as they go on?” Warren asked me, still smiling.
“You know I can’t talk about them,” I reminded him.
“I’m not asking for details. That’s what that silly oath was made for, right? So we couldn’t tell each other what to expect? That’s not what I’m asking. I’m just asking—”
“Adrian,” my mother interrupted us, “you have a visitor.”
I wiped my mouth with my napkin and looked up. What remained of my smile faltered.
“Dante.”
“So sorry to interrupt, everyone,” he said politely. Dante could have manners when he wanted to. He just very, very rarely wanted to. And even though he was smiling for my family’s benefit, the expression was painfully fake. A fire burned behind his eyes every time they met mine. “Apparently, Adrian and I have some things we must discuss. If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, dear,” my mother replied, waving her hands as if it made no difference to her. “You’re always welcome in our home.”
I rose from the table, gritting my teeth with barely restrained rage, and joined Dante in the threshold where I gestured for him to follow me down the hall, through the kitchen, and into the back yard, the only place we could have some semblance of privacy.
I suspected we were both about to explode. And I was right.
“What the hell, Adrian?” Dante hissed the moment the door closed behind us. “You called him greedy? Vain? You yelled at him, then ran off? What in the Geist’s name has gotten into you? Why—”
“Did you know?” I interrupted, fists clinched at my sides.
