“And with the Aurora Rite next month, we’ll face a larger withdrawal,” Barracus added. “Perhaps it’s time to consider other options. I suggested to Cerridwen again that we cancel the Rite. Especially with tensions rising everywhere, we may not be in the best position for it.”
Their silence drew my attention to their wary expressions.
Reagan leaned back in his chair. “Was it funds they requested?”
“Yes,” Cerridwen said coolly.
“I’ll need to check the amounts with you,” Reagan said, fingers brushing absently over his chin. “But I have an idea I want to try before cancelling the Rite. There may be room to adjust our current trades with other estates. Erisea and Vaelon, for example.”
“The regular trades? Are you planning to alter them?” Finn asked.
“It’s been some time since we did that,” Reagan replied. “But yes. I’m thinking you can go with Gwinifer to Vaelon.” He cast a quick glance at his sister. “She likes you. Both of you.”
“I can go,” Gwinifer said. “But we should request an invitation first.”
Half an hour passed as their conversation dragged on, until the entire staff was silently staring at their empty plates or, in Finnegan’s case, nearly dozing off in his chair.
One by one, they began rising from the table. Just as I was about to leave the room, Reagan stopped me.
“What did you think of the book?” he asked, his hands tucked into his pockets.
“I think I miss my romances,” I said dryly, watching his brows lift. Unsure if he caught the humour, I added, “The book was good; it gave me exactly what I needed.”
This was our new dynamic. Polite, civil, and just a little strained.
“Maybe we could find some romances in the study. I don’t know half the books there, to be honest. Care to join me?” he asked, motioning me to the door.
I sighed. “You don’t . . . need to do this.”
“Do what?” He cocked his head, using that soft tone that I had heard in the study and after my attack.
“This. Entertain me, give me books, whatever it is you’re doing right now. I won’t try to leave again.”
“I know, but I’m not trying to entertain you. At least, not any more than I’m entertaining myself.” His eyes lingered on my dress for a moment, assessing. “Did you intend to return to your room after dinner?”
I hadn’t planned anything, and didn’t want to go back to my room again. I’d just focus on my family, and no number of books about red-eyed beasts or bloodsucking monsters would distract me tonight.
When I didn’t respond, he grinned. “Come now, Darling. A dress like that deserves more than just the walls to admire it.”
CHAPTER 10
The couch felt like an embrace of cobalt suede, its broad back brushed grey by the silver spill of moonlight, while the large cushions soaked in the orange warmth from the mantel and the muted glow of the spotlights overhead.
Reagan had asked if I would mind his staying in the room, in his own study. If he was making an effort to be civil, I supposed I could do the same.
We wandered along the aisles and uncovered a modest collection of romance novels from writers I didn’t recognise. He’d admitted he had never noticed those before and had no idea if any of them were good. Most of the books in this study had belonged to the many ancestors who had filled these shelves long before either of us existed.
With a stiff neck, I traced the spines until I plucked one at random, mostly to end the blatant stare he kept burning into the side of my face.
We retreated to separate corners. I claimed the couch. He took the table, and a heavy silence followed.
It was a nice room. It smelled of fresh ink and burning embers, with an undertone of pine and frost that I suspected drifted in from the enormous window.
It felt like a lovely cell. A cell I might survive for a year if I learned to minimise my own trouble. That meant staying on his better side and holding my tongue. He could be reasoned with. Our quiet shared presence proved as much.
Yet, I still didn’t know why he lived under a sentence that forced him to lose control of his form.
Did I truly want the answer?
