Page 158 of Godless Saints

“You don’t know how old your boyfriend is?”

“I think he’s my age,” I said, suddenly unsure.

Edwin appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is ready. The chefs are bringing everything out now.”

He glanced down the hall. “I’ll get Nathaniel and Cillian.”

I jumped up. “I’ll get them.”

I wandered down the hallway, slowing once I was out of view. The study door was slightly ajar. Voices drifted out. I pressed against the wall and listened, heart hammering.

Father’s voice drifted out first. “…Removing him solved one problem. It created three others.”

“Ronan.”

“We’ll handle Ronan. But not until the ports are stable. One dead Carrick looks like retaliation. Two looks like war we can’t afford right now.”

“And the officials?”

“They’ll be reminded where their loyalties belong. Once they remember, you can deal with Ronan.”

“The official arrangements are rarely the important ones.” Father’s tone stayed measured. “Marry him if that’s what you want. But understand this, Ashbourne: if you become a liability to this family, I will remove the problem. And my son will never need to know it was me.”

“Put him in the middle again,” Cillian said, “and I won’t come to negotiate.”

Neither of them spoke.

Then Father spoke again, almost thoughtfully. “You have spine. Good. Keep doing that. Keep the consequences away from this house. Do that, and we’ll have no issue.”

Chairs scraped. They were standing up.

I backed away, counted to five, then approached with footsteps loud enough to announce me.

“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Edwin says dinner is ready.”

Nathaniel stepped out of the study first, adjusting his cuff. “Hyun. Good. I’ll see you at the table.” He headed down the hallway toward the dining room without another glance.

The second he was out of earshot, I closed the study door behind us. “What was that about?”

Cillian took both my hands, brought them to his mouth, and kissed my knuckles.

“Nothing for your pretty head to worry about.”

I searched his face. “Cillian, you don’t need to do what he asks of you. I’m choosing you either way.”

He stopped me with a thumb across my lips. “Your family’s been nothing but good to me. You, however, need to stop torturing yourself. Everything is fine.” He kissed my forehead. “Now let’s eat. I can’t wait to have Korean food. You know, my favorite is Korean.”

I smiled despite myself and scoffed. “That’s such a bad joke.”

He grinned, slid an arm around my waist, and pulled me against his side as we left the study.

Father had already decided the price of keeping me. Cillian was paying it. And I couldn't make either of them stop.

We sat down as the chefs brought out the food. Galbitang, banchan, grilled meats and rice. The table looked like a feast.

Father changed once we were all seated. His posture relaxed slightly. He looked at Cillian with fresh interest.

Father passed the galbitang to Cillian. “Do you fence? Or play any sports?”