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I licked my lips and started on that instead. It was flavoured with something floral, which I couldn't identify, but was much more lightly spiced. I watched carefully to make sure I wasn't making another mistake before I mixed some of the meat in with it. I couldn't rule out the idea that the meat might be hot, and that mixing food together on the plate might be a capital offence.
No one looked disapproving, and Dex did the same with his rice, so I figured I was good. Or I'd be in a cell beside him. Either way, I tucked into what I assumed was chicken. Apparently at least a dozen things taste like chicken, but I wouldn't think about it too much. After all, I hadn't seen Izzy in a while.
In the end, I ate most of my meal and a swallow of wine when Dex poured some and passed me a glass. It was probably expensive, but I hardly knew Chardonnay from Cabernet. I would have killed for a bourbon and cola, but no one offered one and I didn't bother to ask.
Dex took a sip from his wine and watched me over the rim, dark eyes on mine. The look he gave me was unreadable, but made me nervous. I sensed he was considering how I fit into some political plot, or maybe what size lingerie I might look best in. I didn't want to play his games, or anyone's.
Whether or not I had a choice was another thing.
I gripped the stem of my glass and looked into it to avoid looking at him.
"Is the wine acceptable?" Calista asked.
Was this a test of my sophistication? I would fail miserably, surely they knew that? Of course they did. Maybe Calista wanted to see if I could hold on to my dignity.
"It's very nice, thank you." I took a larger sip than I intended. It warmed me all the way down to my toes and left a sweet, berry flavour in my mouth.
"We trade with the shifters in Caran Valley," Dex said. "They make the best wine in the region."
"So I understand," I replied. "I've heard they produce a bubbling wine which is becoming sought after." Okay, it might all taste the same, but I paid attention to the news. "I've yet to try any," I added, as though I had any intention of doing so.
"Perhaps I should get you some, so you can try it." Dex said. Of course, he would have the resources to get any number of things regular people, paranormal or otherwise, couldn't.
I didn't know how to respond to that, but Calista saved me from having to.
"Do either of you want dessert?" she asked.
Dex's eyes flicked over to her. "No, thank you," he replied.
He had better manners than the rest of my family put together, at least in addressing his aunt. Was this how they usually behaved, or was it for my benefit?
"Not for me either, thank you." The meal had settled in my stomach. Hopefully it wouldn't burn a hole through it.
"Very well, I'll see you both later then. I'll take tea in my room." She leaned to kiss Dex's cheek, gave me a nod and slipped out with a casual grace that made me feel clumsy.
"I have to check over some cargo which arrived by train," Dex said, "would you like to come? You might find it interesting." He gave me another direct look. He clearly expected me to say yes.
I didn't remember seeing anyone take anything off the train but me and Izzy, but I hadn't paid attention to the back of it. They could have carried off a dozen crates while Bain and I talked and waited for Izzy.
"Okay. Sounds like fun." I swallowed and tried to clear my head, half drunk from wine. I would need to find some flowers and draw a little power. The wine might loosen my tongue until I said something I would truly regret.
"Good." He slipped his hand into mine and pulled me gently to my feet.
Just when I thought he wouldn't let go, he released my hand and stepped toward the door.
He led me through labyrinthine corridors into a different part of the residence. Two guards accompanied us; men I didn't know. Both wore the same form-fitting black trousers, and dark green shirt under a leather jacket. They both looked like they knew how to use the knives at their hips.
One of the guards stepped forward to open a door and moved aside, expression as stony as Bain's. Evidently he wasn't alone in being a cold, unsmiling bastard.
The room beyond was large and decorated with gold and blue, and dark, rich wood. A table stood in the centre. A desk to one side suggested the Keeper used the room for work rather than leisure.
"Can you read?" he asked. He headed toward an open crate left near the table.
"Of course. I couldn't have found that law if—" I stopped short. "You're teasing me."
He flashed a smile and handed me a sheet of paper. "I'm sorry, I'm told it can be irritating."
"Oh, who told you that?" I scanned the page, a manifest of items which should be in the crate.
