“I love potatoes.” I smile gently. “They’re Luc’s favorite.”
Her soft brown eyes widen, and her fingers stop fiddling. “‘Luc,’” she repeats in an awed whisper. “You call the Praeceptor ‘Luc.’” She still looks amazed as she piles food onto my plate, giving me far more than herself or Kaidren.
“Oh, please.” I shove it back to her. “I don’t need this much.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Warmth floods me as she lies. Food is expensive, and she’s giving me more than my fair share even though I just broke into her house. I glare and swap my plate for hers.
Julissa makes a move to switch them back, but I raise my fork threateningly. “Try it, and I’ll stab you.”
Kaidren smirks. “Don’t test her, Jules. She means it.”
I tip up my chin in silent, stubborn confirmation of his words. I don’t lower my defenses—or my fork—until she takesher first bite and I’m certain she won’t try to swap our plates again.
For a few awkward minutes, we eat in silence. Kaidren must have some hidden motive for insisting I join them, but I can’t work out what he has to gain from making me eat dinner with him and his aunt.
“Kaidren’s told me a bit about you.” Jules breaks the stillness. “You’re just as pretty as he described.”
I’m surprised by the lack of heat with her words. Even more surprised by the light pink that flushes Kaidren’s cheeks and the glower he gives his aunt. “He told you I waspretty?”
“I might have mentioned something to that effect,” he grumbles, not looking at me.
“Well, thank you,” I say to Jules. “Can you also tell me what I’m doing here?”
Jules chuckles. “You’re just as impatient as he described as well.” She takes her time answering me. Spears a potato. Dunks it in the sauce she’s prepared. Takes a bite, chews thoroughly, before finally responding. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I wanted to meet you for myself.”
“What else have you heard?”
She glances at her nephew. “Kaidren mentioned that you’re a difficult person to know,” she says carefully.
I can’t help a disbelieving laugh. “You’re sure that’s all he said? He didn’t call me a conniving bitch?”
Jules tosses her head back and laughs.
“I’ve never called you a bitch,” Kaidren objects.
“Just conniving, then,” I say.
“Well, you are. Should I have lied?”
“Why not?” I challenge. “You’re exceptionally skilled in that department.”
“Yet not half so skilled as you.”
“How big of you to acknowledge your shortcomings.” I take a sip of water and focus my attention on Julissa, who’s glancing between the two of us, looking amused. “Maybe you can answer a question for me. I’ve been asking Kaidren, but he’s yet to give me a straight answer.”
She looks intrigued. “What?”
“Why did he come to Widow’s Hall?”
Kaidren groans. “I’ve answered this already. To improve the Honorate.”
I roll my eyes, not even dignifying his lie with a response as I look back to Jules. “Well? Do you know?”
“I have no idea. You’ll be amazed to hear my nephew doesn’t listen to me, or anybody,” Jules says wryly. “I’ve never understood the pull of that mountain. I told Kaidren a thousand times he was a fool for wanting to go to Virdei. Everyone I know is desperate to find a way there. No idea why. We all know the tattoo paints a target on your back, but—”
Kaidren loudly clears his throat and slams a glass on the table, making it rattle on its slightly uneven legs.
