Fucking assholes.
Especially Riven.
Stabby-happy. What a dick.
My assumption was correct.
Riven snatches a chair from the other side, sliding it until it’s at the opposite end of the table. Creed takes a seat beside me, while Amick moves the other one closest to Calista as far away from her as it can be.
Her lips twitch the smallest amount. Her displeased smile morphs back to its normal, unnerving curve once she places and smooths a napkin in her lap.
With a snap of her fingers, the Attendants move as one, setting plates and drinks in front of each of us. For a moment, the savory smell of roast replaces the horrendous scent of the floral perfume she’s drenched in.
“That will be all. You’re dismissed.”
The Attendants scamper out with nothing more than a bow.
I crack my neck as I pick up my fork. My movement spurs my brothers on.
“Excuse me? What do you all think you’re doing?”
My lids drift shut and I subtly shake my head.
“We’re about to eat,” I say as neutral as possible.
“Not one of you have said your prayers.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“You’re not excused. We just sat down.”
I lay my fork down and lace my fingers. My glare burns against my brothers’ faces. I so fucking badly want to say I told you so, or ask if any of them would like to step in.
“Fucking assholes,” I mutter, then face Calista. “We don’t say prayers, and we’re not going to start now. We’d appreciate it if you respected that and allowed us to eat. If it’s going to be a problem, though, we’ll forgo this meal as well.”
“You all can’t keep going without food.” She chuckles.
“We all—some of us longer than others—have survived much longer without eating.”
She frowns at me like that simply can’t be true.
“Very well. You may eat,” she says, and we each pick our forks back up. “Your father isn’t going to be too happy about that at our dinner tomorrow night, though. He takes blessing our food very seriously.”
I damn near choke on my first bite.
“What are you talking about?” I ask after I clear my airways.
Her face is a mix of disgust and maybe a touch of concern. She shakes the glare away and takes a sip of her drink.
“Your father is joining us for dinner tomorrow.”
“We won’t be here for dinner tomorrow.”
“Oh, Riven.” She laughs, waving her hand at him like he’s hilarious. “Silly thing. Of course you will. I did invite Rella as well, but she declined. You understand.”
My eyes plead with my brothers to stay fucking calm. As calm as they can.
I take a few bites of the tasteless food. That’s no insult to whoever the Attendant is who made it. The company has killed my appetite and desire to eat.
