Before he could speak, I moved forward, and Brett’s attention swung back to me. “Kulsa, that wasn’t a threat. When I threaten you, I promise you’ll know.”
Petrona cleared her throat. “Well. This is all very entertaining, however, I fear the dinner theater has delayed our meal.”
Pointedly, she began eating, and those around her did the same. Cade jerked his head, and I followed his eyes to the wall. There was a space behind him, and I took it, not leaning against wallpaper but standing at attention, hands clasped behind my back, feet shoulder length apart.
How many times had I watched Declan eat with his enemies, standing just like this, ready for the first sign of violence?
I was so focused on reading the room, trying to see who was a danger at the table, watching the small bits of relationships I was seeing when someone glanced out of the side of their eyes or ignored a comment from across the table, that I almost missed when I was brought to center stage again.
“Perhaps it will put us all at ease if we might find out more about your consort, Prince Bartlett,” Petrona said.
Her expression was warm, inviting. She actually did believe what she was saying. If they knew more about me, then maybe they could sweep what had just happened under the rug.
Petrona turned to me, her expression open and inviting. “Tell us about yourself.”
“Well…” I stared at the back of Cade’s head, wishing he would turn around and give me a hint of what I should say. “I grew up in Los Santos. I ran the streets when I was a kid, but the church took me in when I was still in grade school.”
“The church.” Petrona nodded, looking to those around her. “Such a venerable institution raised you well, I’m sure.”
“It was all right,” I said vaguely. “I worked odd jobs here and there. Then I met Cade. There isn’t much more to say.”
This seemed to satisfy Petrona, who turned back to her neighbor. “Is it so strange to have such a swift courtship after such a lonely upbringing?”
“Yes.” Her neighbor nodded, his head bobbing up and down in agreement. Sweat beaded along his receding hairline. “Petrona said you went to museums during your courtship. Were you able to see the Van Gogh exhibit?”
It didn’t feel like a trick, but I frowned anyway. I had no memory of any Van Gogh exhibit in the city.
“To be honest… I wasn’t really paying attention to the art when Cade took me out.” I trailed off, letting my lecherous grin do the rest of the talking. “Art was more his thing. My thing was him.”
“Which church took you in?” Sonja asked. She looked up from her plate, pinning me, draining the humor from my words.
I shrugged awkwardly. There were a few in the city that housed werewolves without packs.
“The one on Rincon Street,” I said.
I knew it mostly because after school let out, there were always screaming kids playing in the yard, watched over by severe-looking nuns in black-and-white habits.
“That one didn’t open until ten years ago,” Sonja said sharply. “You’re… what? In your late twenties? It opened after you would have aged out of the system.”
I frowned, trying to decide if she was right. Los Santos changed more than Flores ever did. Flores was the same, year in, year out. The church was always in the same spot; shops might close down, but new ones would spring up in the same place like weeds sprouting year after year.
Los Santos was different. It was a big city. Old buildings were torn down to build skyscrapers. A manufacturing facility that had gone out of business would be renovated into apartments.
Shrugging, I said, “I spent a couple of years there. But you move around a lot when the church is taking care of you.”
“Of course. I’m sure. But you have to see why your background would matter when you are consort to the man who will be our king.” This time, Sonja didn’t smile to hide the threat in her words.
Something pitted cold in my stomach. No one would believe Jesaiah again, even if he came back and shouted that I was Castillo Pack. But how would Cade react if he found out?
Declan had never made any mention of my past. All he needed was my unwavering loyalty in the present. But I wondered how far someone would have to dig to find out where I actually came from.
It was clear that Sonja had a shovel and was ready to excavate my past in order to find a reason to dislike me.
“That’s enough. He has told you what you want to know. I had him thoroughly vetted. Clearly, there are some house matters to discuss.” Cade looked up from his plate, setting aside his silverware with a definitive clink. “Consorts are excused.”
For a moment, the room was frozen. Then, the consorts began filing out. I hesitated, unsure if I was supposed to go with them or not.
Cade glanced at me, then tilted his head just slightly. Stiffly, I walked out, shutting the doors behind me.
