“Just make sure she’s decent and get her here, Leonard.”
He smirks at me. “Your wish is my command.”
I turn back to the table, acutely aware of every pair of eyes tracking my movements. The expectant silence is oppressive. Mygaze sweeps the faces, some curious, some guarded, all waiting to see what I’ll say.
“Firstly,” I begin, my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my chest, “I’d like to thank my stepmother, Olivia, for suggesting this dinner and for allowing us to host it here.” I let my eyes find her across the expanse of gold and china. I hold the contact for a beat too long, letting her silently know I’m aware of the politics at play. “It’s an honor to have you all seated around our table for our first official family meal.”
The words are polite, even warm, but beneath them lies the truth. We all know this is less about welcome and more about inspection.
I look pointedly at Tallulah, and she gives me a knowing smile. She’s not stupid, either. I guess she’s just here to make sure no one kills each other.
Olivia slaps on a saccharine smile and turns to Mrs. Lovell. “I sincerely hope I didn’t overstep by suggesting this dinner?”
Esmerelda’s mother stretches across the table and grasps Olivia’s hand. Her own smile could send us all into a diabetic coma. “Of course not. I was going to prepare something, but I’m very happy you jumped the gun. There’s nothing better than being a guest and reaping the rewards of someone else’s hard work. Did you prepare the food?”
She presents the question with just enough sugar to make you question if it’s genuine or a jab. I’d hazard a guess it’s the latter, and my lip curls at the corner.
Olivia’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and the lines surrounding her mouth pull taut from the effort of keeping her composure. “Marcus was so kind to offer his staff for the preparations. So, I’m in the same boat as you. And truly grateful.”
I don’t feel awkward often, but I’m not in the mood for a catfight this evening. I have enough tension in my home withoutthese two adding to it, especially with Captain Council sitting opposite me. I swear, all she needs is a notebook to record every interaction. It feels like I have a counselor at my table, not a council member. I need to move this along.
I refill my glass, and those with empty ones do the same.
“Getting back to my speech. My memory isn’t working all that well at the moment, so I might forget what I practiced.” There’s another outburst of chuckles, and I’m relieved that the Lovells at least have a sense of humor. Unlike my family, who are practically shooting daggers at me. When I glance at my father, he looks far from amused. I suppose I’m in for another lecture. Best I get back to it then.
“I’d also like to thank Councilwoman Tallulah Minto-ho-yo for being here to ensure Esmerelda and I don’t maim each other.” I pause as another round of chuckles ripples across the table. “Though I suspect your job is far from over. I may not have known much about my wife before we met, but a man learns quickly, and the hard way, about rushing his wife when getting ready.”
Both my father and Esmerelda’s nod knowingly, although mine is still salty about my joke.
I lift my glass. “In all seriousness, I stand here before you, not just as Esmerelda’s husband, but as one half of a union that has carried the weight of old wars and wounds for far too long. What began as a forced union, a convenient solution for the council’s fears, has become an opportunity. One I intend to make good on.”
I slice a glance at Tallulah, letting her know that remark was for her ears, and that she’s welcome to take it back to the council. I may not want to be banished, but I’m doing everything they asked of me, so there’s fuck all they can do about the odd snide remark.
I can feel myself digressing, so I continue. “There is power in peace. And while my wife and I didn’t choose this path, we have chosen to walk this life together. For our people, but most importantly, for all of you sitting around this table. And perhaps one day, what is now obligation will turn into something more.”
I take a sip of my wine to hide my shock. I suppose it isn’t too much of a shock considering I’ve been doomed to a loveless marriage. And while I’m certain I’ll never grow to love Esmerelda—who could?—I would like to live a comfortable existence with her.
“Apologies, everyone, I jumped the gun with my toast. I invite you all to drink to new beginnings, but most importantly, to peace.”
I raise my glass high before taking a long drink of the tart wine. Perhaps if I’m drunk, tonight will be easier. Everyone gives a hearty cheer and drinks, although the entire room stinks of conflicting emotions. My wolf moves restlessly beneath my skin, as sick of this charade as I am.
I’m exhausted. I sit down carefully when all I want to do is flop down in my chair. “Please, everyone. Eat.”
My “guests” seem hesitant to eat without Esmerelda here, so I turn to Esmerelda’s father. “Apologies, sir. Would you be so kind as to pass the roast potatoes?”
Mr. Lovell stretches across the table and grabs the overflowing dish of golden potatoes. As he passes them to me, he stops. I wonder if he’s expecting me to gush my thanks or something before he fulfills my request. I shift in my seat and refill my goblet, and when I turn back, he still hasn’t moved. He’s staring fixatedly, his mouth agape, a look of sheer terror blooming in his rapidly blinking eyes.
“Mr. Lovell? Are you okay?”
His eyes, wild, bulging, lock on mine, and sheer terror radiates from him. Then I see it. The impossible. He’s petrifying.
I’m out of my chair before my mind catches up, the heavy oak legs screeching across the wooden floor. The dish of potatoes slips from his fingers and shatters against the boards, shards of porcelain and crispy potatoes skidding all over the floor. The sharp crack echoes in my skull, tangled with the rising pitch of voices around us.
“Help me.” His words are strangled, guttural, already cracking under the strain of what’s happening inside his body. From the knees up, stone begins to swallow him.
A chorus of terrified screams breaks loose, chairs toppling, cutlery clattering as people shove back from the table.
“Help!” My voice rips from me before I can even think to yell.
