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The doors were big and wooden, and a woman stood on the front porch. She was old, in her seventies at least, with frizzy white hair and an apron. She wiped her hands and stepped forward as Calvin climbed out and went to meet her.
“His last nanny,” Matthias said quietly as we followed. “Martha. Closest he ever got to a mother.”
Calvin embraced the old woman gingerly. She smiled, said something. He only nodded and turned to beckon me over.
“This is Robyn, my fiancée.”
I let the word drift over my skin like mist and forced a smile on my lips. “Nice to meet you.” I’d have to talk to him later about calling me that, but I wouldn’t make a scene.
Yet, at least.
“You as well, dear. I’m glad someone made this one settle. He’s been wild for much too long, you know. In my day, he’d be married and have a litter of children already.”
“I’m not so sure about the litter part of that.”
She cackled and turned. “Come, come, let’s get inside before you get a chill.”
I glanced at Calvin, searching for some clue as to how I should feel about all this—but his face was guarded and closed.
We followed Martha into the manor.
I’d seen mansions online. I’d watched MTV Cribs and see a few of the monstrosities lingering around my neighborhood. I lived in a nice place, and although it wasn’t exactly the nicest thing in the world, it was definitely better than most.
The Solar family estate blew me away.
It was like stepping into a museum, except that did it a disservice. Everything was pristine, orderly, perfect. Marble floors, sweeping staircases, wooden detailing around the ceiling, everything hand-carved by master craftsmen. I stood in the entryway and gawped at a chandelier that must’ve cost more than my father would ever make in his entire life.
“Who is on the grounds, Martha?” Calvin asked as she led us toward the stairs. Two young men in black shirts and black pants appeared seemingly out of the wall and took my bag. The other tried to grab Calvin’s, but he was already moving away like he’d expected it. The shamed house servant disappeared back into the shadows while mine hustled up the steps and hurried around a corner.
“Your mother, of course,” Martha said, going slow. Calvin stayed at her elbow. He didn’t touch her or offer to help, but he was lingering like he expected to catch her if she fell. It was surprising to see him so affectionate and protective of another human. I didn’t think he was capable of complex emotions like that.
“And Father?”
“He’s here somewhere. Your brothers are not, which I suppose you’re happy about.”
“Can’t complain,” Calvin said.
Martha sighed. “I always said you boys were pitted against each other far too often. Always fighting each other. Always trying to get ahead.” She let out a breath. “You’re grown men now.”
“Raymond’s in high school.”
She waved that off. “Your father made sure you all grew up fast. You’d think you’d all want to work together, but no. It’s kill or be killed in this house.”
I felt a shiver run down my spine. Kill or be killed in this house.
“You know how Father can be,” Calvin said as we reached the top and Martha led us down a series of winding hallways, each one more lavishly furnished than the last, until she stopped outside of a single doorway. It was left ajar, presumably by the servant with my bags, and Martha went in.
It was a large suite. The siting area was nautical themed with lots of leather and brass, and a small fire crackled in the fireplace. The bedroom had a single king, and my bag sat at the foot. Calvin threw his bag on top and faced Martha.
The old woman lingered in the doorway. “I hope you’ll be okay here. I thought you’d like the privacy.”
“This is perfect. Far from the action.” Calvin glanced at me, and I said nothing.
We were sharing a room again.
Great.
I couldn’t speak up, because I was his fiancée—apparently. But inwardly, I boiled, and glared out the window to keep Martha from noticing my discomfort.
“Your mother wants to see you both when you’re settled. I suggest you get it over with. She hasn’t had time to have too much wine yet.” Martha sighed and shuffled off, shutting the door behind her.
I whirled on Calvin and planned on giving him a metric ton of shit, but the look on his face stopped me. He stared at the place where Martha had been a moment earlier with a look torn between pain, nostalgia, wistfulness, and anger.
“Are you okay?”
He looked over and composed himself. “I’m fine. We’d better go speak with my mother.”
“Where’s Matthias staying? Is he sleeping on the couch?”
Calvin’s smile was tight, but didn’t reach his eyes. “He’s nearby.” He gave me a measuring look. “I think you should change.”
