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It might have been phrased as a question but Effie knew an accusation when she heard one. And Tak’s voice invited no further challenge.
‘Are you comfortable?’
He turned to Effie with a wry smile. It was a shared moment which probably meant nothing to him yet it made something in her chest mushroom with happiness.
‘Or would you prefer to leave?’
‘I have a busy day.’ Effie moved carefully out of her seat, grateful to Tak for providing her with the opportunity to leave. ‘I might go and get ready now.’
‘You’re going to leave...her to roam around your home unsupervised?’
The implication was clear—watch the family silver—and Effie felt a tight band constrict around her chest. It was an accusation she’d heard enough times before, as she went into different foster homes. She hadn’t felt that dirt-poor and pathetic in years. It was testament to just how manipulative this woman was that she’d located Effie’s vulnerability within barely a five-minute conversation.
‘Effie,’ Tak corrected. ‘Not her. And, yes, she knows the layout of the house well enough not to need a guide—but it’s very thoughtful of you to be concerned in case Effie becomes lost.’
Effie flinched on his mother’s behalf. She recognised that tone, and it wasn’t as neutral as it seemed. The undercurrent and the subtle put-down made her skin bump. His mother had pursed her lips, as though she knew it, too.
For a moment silence descended on the room as the woman clearly burned with curiosity and Tak merely busied himself with breakfast. Completely at ease, the King of the Castle. Just as he was king everywhere he went.
She should go. Escape the tension. Instead Effie hovered in the doorway, unable to bear the thought of herself being the cause of disharmony between mother and son. And still his mother stared at the deliberately laid-back Tak, as if her eyes boring into him could somehow reveal all the answers which she was clearly so desperate to know.
An age dragged past, though it was probably less than a minute, and finally Effie excused herself.
She had no idea whether the words which followed her down the corridor came because his mother thought she was out of earshot, or because the older woman intended her words to be overheard.
‘You’re using her, Talank. I can see it, but does she know it?’
There was the briefest of pauses and Effie couldn’t help it. She slowed her pace, wishing fervently that she could see Tak’s face.
‘I will concede that when Effie and I first got together it was something of a mutual arrangement. A buffer, shall we say?’
As much as she knew it was the truth, Effie wasn’t prepared for the shard of regret which stabbed through her.
‘A buffer?’ his mother replied coldly.
‘Why not? Clearly you already know this, Mama. You wouldn’t be here if Hetti hadn’t already spoken to you. She did explain it all, didn’t she?’
‘You sister mentioned some mutual agreement, I suppose. Something about you and that woman both being single...’
‘You are my mother, and as such I try to respect you. But if you wish me to continue this conversation,’ Tak interjected, his voice quietly dangerous, ‘then you will refer to Effie by her name. Am I making myself clear?’
‘You don’t respect me, Talank. You never have. Have you?’
He ignored the question. ‘Am I making myself clear?’
‘Effie, then,’ his mother bit out coldly.
Clearly she didn’t like it. It was surely testament to Tak’s authority that she nevertheless obeyed.
‘There, now, was that so difficult?’
Still immobile in the corridor, Effie realised she didn’t want to linger there, eavesdropping. She didn’t want to hear any more. She was genuinely afraid of what might be said. Tak’s voice was barely recognisable. It held a tone she’d never heard before. A tone she never wanted to hear directed at her.
She tried to force her legs to move, but they felt rooted to the spot. As though they might fold if she attempted to force them.
‘According to Hemavati, you and... Effie—’ Effie could practically hear the gritt
ed teeth ‘—were only together for show. To redirect attention for an evening.’
