Rylan shook his head solemnly.
“Cassia’s the smart one. She doesn’t do stupid stuff.”
“Hey, man,” Mavek said from across the table, offering Rylan a nod of solidarity. “You’re talking to a fellow family fuck-up.”
“Mavek,” Gramma Prisca warned, but Cassia could tell her heart wasn’t really in it. Aevrin’s Gramma seemed too concerned by everything else going on. But Cassia knew the old lady too well to think she was just feeling bad for Rylan, who lookedpretty hard down on his luck. There were probably wheels spinning behind her blue eyes.
Sath and Sorven came out with a plate each full of griffon and fixings to pass around.
“Thank you,” Rylan said awkwardly as he took a steak. They passed the sides around companionably as the usual conversation, if a little more halted than usual, started up. Aevrin, Cassia, and Rylan all sat in silence.
Rylan waited to start eating until he saw the Rivekers tucking in. Then his plate was empty almost instantly.
“You want seconds?” Prisca asked him.
“Maybe later,” Rylan said quickly, but his eyes were studying the remaining dishes, as if calculating what he could take without getting booted out.
“We’ve been spoiled, huh?” Sorven asked, a bite of tough meat on his fork. “I forgot how much better of a cook Cassia is.”
“You keep it up, you can shovel the coop by yourself tomorrow,” Sathuel told his youngest son.
“Naw, I don’t think my ankle’s ready for that,” Sorven said, and grinned.
“That so?” Sath said with a smile. Sorven grinned back as Mavek reached over to tussle Sorven’s hair.
“Attaboy,” Mavek said.
Rylan reached slowly for another helping of jennut.
“So, Rylan. You living around these parts?” Prisca asked smoothly. Rylan pulled his hand back abruptly, but Mavek reached out and pushed the platter Rylan had wanted towards him.
“I’m on the road. Just wanted to let Cassia know I was leaving.” Rylan’s eyes flicked to the platter, then up at Mavek. He reached forward with his fork and dragged a couple pieces of the vegetable onto his plate.
“Oh, yeah? Where to?” Prisca asked.
“Pretty far,” Rylan said.
“You have a job lined up?”
“I’ll find one.”
“Maybe you oughta stay put a few days and find a little work here. We’ve got a spare bedroom. And we could use a ranch hand if you want to stay longer,” Gramma Prisca said smoothly.
Rylan cut the jennut quickly into squares, his jaw hard.
“No.”
“You’ll stay the night. It’s dark out.”
“It’s not late yet.” He shoved the food into his mouth, demolishing it with frightening speed.
“You should stay,” Cassia whispered to him. “Gramma Prisca’s right.”
He shook his head no to her and swallowed his last bite.
“Can’t do that,” Rylan said. “Really. I’ve stayed too long already. I’ve got things to do.” He started to stand.
“Sit,” Prisca said with a voice like iron. Rylan hesitated, half out of his chair, and then finished standing. But he stood at his chair rather than walking to the door.
