“The dark is so depressing, Father,” Chessa complains. “We so rarely get to experience the sun!”
“Hold your tongue, girl,” Father spits out. “I’ll have none of that from you.”
She bows her head, staring at her empty gold-rimmed plate. “Yes, sir.”
“Now, eat up, children. We have much to discuss,” Father says, turning his attention back to his breakfast.
Just as I reach for the last croissant, Charlie, my baby brother, snatches it from the plate. “Too slow,Ratlyn,” he taunts.
“You’re such a child.”
Father always wanted a son, and tragically, his birth stole our mother from us. As the baby of the family, he is spoiled rotten, and he acts more like a ten-year-old boy than a man of eighteen years.
I fill my plate with a heaping pile of fruit and a large serving of eggs. Who needs a croissant anyway?Me. I really wanted that croissant.I glare across the table at my brother.
“You’ve kept us in suspense long enough, Father,” Erika speaks up. “What is this news you have?”
Father wipes his mouth and sets his napkin down as we all wait with bated breath.
“There is to be a wedding in a fortnight.”
Chessa claps excitedly. “How fabulous! Did my first choice accept your proposal? Though, does it really have to be a fortnight? Two weeks is not nearly enough time for me to have a dress made,” she rambles.
“That’s enough, child,” Father shushes her. “This wedding is not about you.”
The clatter of silverware hitting her plate drags all of our eyes to Chess. She looks like she’s either going to cry or scream.
“Let me make myself crystal clear,” Father continues. “Iam to be married in a fortnight to Lady Olivia Carlisle.”
Chapter Three
RAELYN
“You?” Chessa’s lip quivers.
I gaze around the table and take in Erika’s surprised expression while Charlie looks bored out of his mind.
The scrape of Chessa’s chair across the hardwood floor grates on my ears as she stands and throws her napkin.
“Howdareyou? This is supposed to bemyyear. I can’t believe you’re making this season aboutyou!”
“You will leave my sight this instant before I have you removed, you spoiled, selfish brat,” Father yells, spittle flying from his mouth.
Chess screams before turning and rushing out of the dining room.
Erika clears her throat. “This is certainly surprising but happy news.” Always the diplomat. “I had no idea you were looking for a new wife.”
Father lifts his goblet of sparkling juice to his mouth, drinking deeply before responding, “Yes. It comes as a surprise to me too, but the match is most advantageous for both of us.”
“When will we meet our soon-to-be stepmother?” I ask.
His eyes dart over to mine. “She’ll be arriving before dinner, and I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”
Whether a new stepmother is good or bad news will only be seen in time. I want to hope for the best; perhaps she will soften some of Father’s hardened edges, and maybe having a maternal figure around won’t be so bad.
I struggle to recall what Father was like before Mother passed, but the memories are blurry, like looking into a fogged mirror. One would think a nine-year-old would make more visceral memories with their own mother, but she was always distant and uninvolved. My sisters and I were raised to be proper ladies by countless governesses. Every once in a while, guilt eats away at me that I hardly miss her. What a terrible daughter I must be.
Just as I’m about to leave the table, Father clears his throat. “Raelyn.”
