“That’s enough talk of politics and business,” Petra said, placing a light hand on her husband’s wrist. Arran’s grip on his knife relaxed. “We’ve got more important matters to discuss.”She turned to Laskaris’s wife. “Zosime, we’ve made all the arrangements for the wedding. We didn’t feel there was any reason to wait. I assume you’ll all be able to stay at Stoneridge for the next month as we prepare? It will be so lovely to have something to celebrate. Take our minds off this nasty business of war and rebellion.”
Cael blanched. Amonth? He didn’t realize it would happen so quickly.
“Yes, we’re thrilled about the match.” Zosime smiled at the couple. “We don’t see any reason to wait either. This may be our last opportunity for cross-continental travel for some time.” Her cheeks fell as tears pooled in her eyes. “Though it will be difficult for me to leave my baby here.”
“Oh, Mama, you worry too much.” Elodie beamed at Cael, placing a hand on his forearm. He resisted the instinct to pull away from her touch. “I’m sure my new husband will take very good care of me.”
Her gaze bored into his cheek and he forced himself to meet it, but couldn’t quite return her smile. He hid it by gulping his wine, letting the alcohol’s burn dull his roaring mind.
Across the table, Tomas eyed Elodie with a predatory envy. Cael wondered why Tomas’s own fiancée Constance, the Windrider daughter of close family friends, wasn’t at this dinner. Purposefully uninvited, no doubt, so Tomas could pursue his philandering unsupervised.
“Wonderful,” Petra cooed, her dark eyes shining as she gazed at Cael and Elodie. “It will be good for you, Cael, to have such a fine female at your side.”
Cael understood his mother’s subtext.You need someone. You’ve always needed someone.
He aimed a tight-lipped grin at his mother, and Elodie clasped their hands together.
“Elodie, I hope you won’t mind helping to plan your own wedding,” Petra said. “I wouldn’t normally ask the bride to assist, but a month is not much time, and I’m afraid we’re going to need all hands on deck.”
“Not at all, Mother,” Elodie said, and Cael nearly choked on his wine. She was calling her Mother already?
Petra snapped her fingers at Erik, who’d leaned his chair back from the table and was chucking potatoes into his open mouth. Arran shot him an annoyed glare, while Viktor and Tomas rolled their eyes. “You’ll help, too.”
The legs of Erik’s chair clacked onto the floor. “How? Isn’t this kind of thing better left to the females?”
Petra glared at him. “Now, now. Don’t be so primitive. There’s plenty you can help with.”
Erik crossed his arms and aimed a petulant pout at their mother. “Why doesn’t Cael have to help? It’s his funeral, after all.”
Tomas and Viktor laughed before Helena slapped her husband’s wrist and Arran silenced them all. “I’ve got different work for him.” Cael shot his father a questioning glance. Arran hadn’t mentioned anything about any kind of work. “We’ll discuss it after dinner in my office.” He clapped his hands and a mortal servant came bustling into the room. “We’re finished. Bring dessert and after-dinner drinks.”
The man bowed at the waist, then whistled at the door, summoning a flurry of other servants.
The young woman clearing Elodie’s plate dropped it into her lap, and a blob of gravy oozed onto her silk dress.
“Clumsy, stupid human!” Elodie shoved back from the table, flushed with anger, then raised her hand to strike the cowering girl.
Cael shot out of his chair and grabbed his fiancée’s hand. No one else at the table had balked at her vitriol. “It was just an accident.” He plucked up a napkin and patted at the stain.
The girl curtsied, then hustled, red-faced, out of the room as the rest of the staff cleared the table.
“Cael?” Petra cut in. “Why don’t you take Elodie on a tour of the house while the rest of us have our dessert?” Her eyes widened—and not subtly.
“Of course, Mother.” He’d lost what little appetite he had left anyway. Had choked down more of the meal tonight than he could stomach. To prove something—though he didn’t know what—to his father.
“That sounds wonderful,” Elodie preened, smoothing her skirt and reaching for his hand.
“Don’t forget to show her the stable loft,” Erik snickered, earning a smack atop his skull from Viktor.
The stable loft had been the sight of many a secret tryst by all four brothers over the years. And was the absolutelastplace Cael had any interest in taking Elodie.
But he led her from the room, playing the part of the dutiful fiancé.
He swallowed back his rising nausea. This role, thislife, was rushing toward him faster than he’d anticipated.
He tried to resign himself to it as he toured Elodie through the estate, barely listening to her endless chatter.
Her plans for the wedding—what the fuck did he care.
