Page 288 of Split or Swallow

A murmur of laughter rippled across the table. With a single line, Leo had not only explained Tem’s presence at the dinner, but legitimized it. Where just moments ago she’d been the recipient of discerning stares, now everyone was smiling at her. He’s good at that, Tem realized. Disarming people was a talent of Leo’s. He did it easily, with nothing but his words. She made a mental note to remember that about him.

As they sat back down, Maximus said:

“How are you finding the castle, Temperance?”

“Oh,” Tem said, surprised he was addressing her directly. “It’s…something.”

“It must be quite different from what you’re used to in the village.”

Tem was smart enough to spot an insult when she saw one. She refused to take the bait.

“It’s certainly eventful around here.”

Maximus’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t pleased that she refused to play his game.

“And what does your father do, Temperance?”

The question made her blood run cold. Was Maximus aware that Tem was a Hybreed? Or was he simply making dinner party conversation? Surely he couldn’t know that one of the basilisks deep beneath their feet was her father. Or could he?

“My mother runs a chicken farm,” Tem said pointedly.

There was a bated silence as everyone at the table glanced at Maximus, who was glaring at Tem like he wanted to throw his wine at her.

“Chickens,” he sneered. “How charming.”

Before she could defend herself, someone else did it for her:

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Leo snapped.

It was the first time Tem had ever heard Leo raise his voice, and a chill went down her spine at the sound. He was staring at Maximus with pure, vivid loathing, his hands clenched into fists under the table. His reaction was so disproportionate to Maximus’s comment that Tem knew there was no way this was only about her.

Tem reached for him.

She touched Leo’s hand under the table, uncurling his fingers gently from a fist. Then she pulled his hand into her lap, holding it with both of hers. Leo didn’t look at her while she did it. But when Tem squeezed his hand, he squeezed hers back, and his voice was steady again when he said:

“Forgive me, father. Too much wine.”

Nervous laughter spread across the table, and a moment later the chatter resumed. But Maximus didn’t move, staring at his son with utter contempt in his eyes.

“Leo,” Tem said, pulling his attention to her.

He turned, and the second their eyes met, his expression softened. He leaned in.

“What can I do for you, Tem?”

“I’m starving,” she said, her tone purposefully light.

Leo smiled, if a little stiffly.

“Then we had better feed you.”

No sooner had he said the words than a butler appeared and began serving them from a golden tray.

The food was exquisite: tender roast beef, crispy potatoes, and herby green sal⁠ad. It reminded Tem of the food she’d eaten on her very first date with Leo, where they’d sat on the patio before walking through the maze. It was strange to sit here with him now—in the same room she’d sat in before the Frisky Sixty. They had come a long way together, her and Leo. And the journey had not been all bad.

The next hour was spent making pleasantries and exchanging small talk. Tem learned that the other guests were indeed Leo’s extended family, in town for the wedding. The thought made her nervous, but she didn’t show it. Instead she laughed and smiled and charmed herself into their good graces, pretending she was playing a part. And maybe she was.

The woman next to Tem was on her fourth red wine.