Matea, whohadn’tleft my side,leadme to the table and gently motioned to where I should sit,taking upher spot to the right of me, with Lady Billie on my left and Lord Geoff directly across. Iwatched asLady Billie and Matea both prepared to serve the food, but I acted before they could.
Standing, I grabbed for the utensil Lady Billie had been reaching for.
“It’d be my honor to serve you all tonight, if you’ll allow me,” I offered, though my tone was firm. Confident.
“Oh no, please, allow me,” Lady Billie gasped, standing from her chair and holding her hand out, waiting for me topassher the serving spoon.
I smiled at her softly and instead placed my hand in hers.
“If we were under normal circumstances, I would be considered your youngest grandchild.It’stradition for the youngest of the family to serve the others whenthey’reold enough—at least in the North.” I squeezed her hand. “Please, let me.”
The older female hesitated for amoment, butslowly withdrew her hand from mine and returned to her chair.
The next few moments were full of light chatter as I took each plate, starting with Lady Billie’s to my left and making my way around the table, filling each one with a little bit of everything. When Iwasn’tsure what something was, or what a specific ingredient was,Lady Billie or Mateawerequick to fill me in. Theydidn’tlaugh that Ididn’tknow—they just filledin the gaps.
The venison had beenglazedwith something that had a pink tinttoit. When I asked what it was as I served a large piece to Lord Geoff, he was the one to explain that it was a mixture of honey andpinkthumb—a type of flower native to the South, and one that was often used to spice up a meal.
That was the first timehe’dspoken since he sat, and I made sure to respond positively. It appeared he would take a longer time to come around and warm up to me, but I had a feelingit’dbe worth the extra effort.
Now, we all had plates full of a variety of delicious foods. Having served myself last, I sat toward the edge of the chair, trying to keep my wings from pressing against the back of it too much. Matea looked my way as I shifted for the third time in a matter of a few minutes, and the realization of my discomfort flickered across her features. Though before she could do or say anything, Lady Billie chimed in.
“So,Aviva,” she started, trying out my name on her tongue. “What is it like up there? In the North?”
I chewed thoroughly, buying myself another moment to think before responding.
“If you had asked me that before the past few months’ recent events,I’dhave said it was a lovely place. Cold most of thetime, butbursting at the seams withmusic and foodand life.”
“And now?” Lady Billie inquired after a beat of silence.
“Now thatI’veseen more of the world than just the inside of Gatlyn Castle?Thanjust Hollis?” I sighed. “I’dsayit’sall fake. They all put up a good front, but nobodyseems to knowtrue happiness there. Not to the extent the people of the South do, anyway.”
Lord Geoff nodded slightly, as if silently agreeing with me.
Lady Billie hummed at my response, then clarified her question. “What wasyourexperience like? Were you happy?”
I refrained from letting a scowl pass over my face, thinking back to my life in the North.
They don’t know, Viva,I thought to myself.
“Up until recent events, I believed my entire life that I killed my own mother as a child in a crazy accident. My father neglected me because I was something my twin, hisfavorite, was not. Father did notpermitme to leave the castle grounds but a handful of times in my life—though I learned to escape sometimes, anyway.” I took a deep breath, willing my emotions to subside and for myziriliumto remain leashed. “But I did have mybrother, andmy best friend, and my griffin. I still had meaningful relationships, even if they werefew and far between.Sowhile I had been caged like an animal since birth, I still managed to learn how to fly.”
I watched their eyes widen as I spoke, especially when I mentioned Mother. I supposed without much context, Ilikely soundedinsane. But where could I even begin?
Matea, to my surprise, cleared her throat to break the deafening silence.
“You should tell them everything. Tell them your story, Viva,” she encouraged me.
Not even Matea knew all the details, but she knew more than her—our—grandparents did. I supposed this was part of coming to know them—even if it was painful to recall.
“We’re all ears,” Lord Geoff said, his voice the most tender toward meI’dheard it thus far.
“Well…” I began after a beat of hesitation.
And the rest poured out of me, like a dam had been broken within.
I began with a story involving a flash of blue light from a decade and a half ago—oneI’dtried to forget for so long. About howI’dkilled Mother—or so I had thought. Because despite what Matea believed, we stilldidn’tknow anythingfor sure.
I spoke of how Father treated Mother that day, and howhe’dnever laid a hand on his children, but thatdidn’tmean hehadn’thurt us in other ways.
