Rebecca’s smile doesn’t falter, but her pique is unmistakable after years of memorizing her every micro expression.
“Thank you, Marcus. A toast, then, to our past, present, and future.” Scattered tinkling fills the room as she takes her seat, only for Soren to stand unexpectedly.
“While we are all gathered here, I’d like to make an announcement.” Thane tenses beside me, and I brush my hand over his thigh under the table to keep him steady. “As some of you may know, even though it’s only been a few months, Yvette and I have had a whirlwind romance. I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t involve her joining our family.” Yvette stares up at him, teary-eyed.
Poor, stupid, doomed girl.
“Which is why she and I have decided going to elope, and spend the new few weeks in the Maldives celebrating our future so that we may begin the New Year as true husband and wife.”
Thane rests his head against the back of the chair as the room fills with the smattering of polite applause and congratulations. But Soren isn’t done yet.
“My Saturnalia gift to you, Thane—boys,” he smiles magnanimously, “is free reign of the Aquae estate until the start of next term.”
Well then.
“Mon coeur, that is so generous of you,” Yvette gushes as he sits.
My parents share a loaded look before Rebecca speaks. “Yes, very generous, however we have several functions planned between now and then that require?—”
Preston interrupts. “Oh let them run a little wild Rebecca. They have oats yet to sow before they’re tied down, no offense to you, darling,” he winks at Calanthe, who returns his flirtatious smile. “I bet you could use some room to run after being cooped up in that school, right Killian?”
“Fucking Fate, it’s theworst,” he bemoans with an exaggerated stretch. Only my parents are immune to his performance.
“It would be good to let my demon rise,” Thane states. “And the estate is warded.”
“Even then, if anyone sees you—” Renard begins, but I interrupt him.
“We’d be there to ensure he stays unseen.”
“Be that as it may,” my mother insists, fixing her gaze on me, “there are people who have been looking forward to seeing you.”
Her words say one thing, but her eyes say another:You have duties to attend to.
That’s what she calls them.
Duties.
Commitments.
Engagements.
“They’re only young once,” Yvette adds. “What could be so important they cannot enjoy their youth while they still have it?”
Rebecca gives her a pointed stare. If Soren’s spawn doesn’t kill her, then my mother will ensure her body’s never found—but the question does paint her into a corner.
Ever the machinator, Rebecca lets Yvette win this argument, it’ll be the only one she ever does. “You’re right, Yvette—I forget sometimes how it felt to be young and invincible.” Her smile makes my skin crawl. “Enjoy your time away, Roth. We’ll see each other at the Governor’s Gala, no doubt.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mother.”
“Such a dutiful son,” Naomi remarks from across the table. Cyrus straightens his shoulders. Luther ignores them both.
The maid finally arrives with my dinner, noticeably calmer, and the rest of the evening is cordial—what passes for it in this den of vipers, anyway. Killian entertains everyone with raucous stories of past antics while Thane and Luther eat in silence. I give occasional, perfunctory responses. Calanthe, Amarantha, and Rebecca discuss the latest wedding details they’ve decided on.
My body buzzes with anticipation, waiting for the right moment to make our calculated exit, so when the butler announces the worsening snowfall risks making the roads tootreacherous, the four of us wordlessly begin the ritual of parting words, kisses, and embraces.
I’m going to burn these clothes at the first opportunity.
Behind the wheel of my Lamborghini Urus I feel in control for the first time tonight as I finally pull away in silence. The manor slowly shrinks in the rearview mirror, but it haunts me nonetheless.
