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She winks at me over the rim of her wine goblet, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief like she heard my thought aloud.
Katriane opens her mouth to argue, but her husband cuts her off.
“Enough. What’s done is done. The girl could have slaughtered half of Bondé in broad daylight and she would still be immune to punishment from it now. In the extremely likely event that it was a joke, I daresay she was amply punished by being kept in the dungeons for a night.”
If only Madame shared that sentiment…
The queen looks like she swallowed something sour, but she presses her lips together in silence.
“I hear the guards paid for that decision as well,” Chloé mutters under her breath, and Gisele, the youngest of the sisters, elbows her in the side.
Sands. I was hoping none of them had heard about that.
“I’m afraid I rather panicked,” I say, shrinking in my chair to make myself look as harmless as possible. “I do hope none of them were too injured.”
Remy turns his attention to me, wrapping a firm arm around my shoulders in a display of support.
“If they were, it would be no more than they deserved for handling you that way,” he growls.
And again, I reflect on his impressive skills at subterfuge because I could almost believe he is genuinely protective of me.
“I told you.” I look up at Remy. “I’m only grateful that the guards took the situation as seriously as they did. It makes me feel safer knowing how protective they are of your family—ourfamily.”
“Speaking of our family,” Lady Eleanor speaks up again. “You need to eat, child, if you want to keep up the strength you’ll need to start making that heir.”
“Grandmère,” Remy mutters, shaking his head, but the woman merely smirks.
Despite the horrifying subject she has just brought up, I feel an odd sort of kinship with her and her slightly inappropriate ways. I dutifully take another bite of my meal, nodding demurely.
She takes a hearty swig of what I’m beginning to suspect is nothing but straight gin before adding to her comment.
“The first one is difficult, of course, but the next four or five should come pretty easily, Ma Chérie.”
And just like that, the feeling of kinship dies. It’s an effort not to choke on my food.
“Lady Eleanor, that’s a tremendous relief,” I say once I’ve recovered. “Since Francis was just telling me how much he would like me to bear five or six of his children, weren’t you, sunshine of my heart?”
“I was indeed, light of my life.” He leans in to ostensibly kiss my temple, speaking into my ear in a low whisper. “Tell me, do your kind eat your young, or would our offspring be safe in your murderous embrace?”
I feign a smile, matching his volume when I answer. “It’s cute that you think I would be willing to bear your spawn.”
“Call me Grandmère,” Remy’s grandmother speaks up again, interrupting our hushed conversation. “You’re family now.”
It’s the second time someone has said that at this meal, and it feels even less true than it did before.
I dart a glance around the table, from Katriane, who is clutching her fork in a vise grip, the king, who seems to have retreated from the conversation entirely. Then the three sisters, eyeing me with looks that range from welcoming to suspicious.
And finally Remy, who, somewhere under his nonchalance, already appears to be tired of our game.
“Grandmère, then,” I reply in my sincerest voice. “I am honored to be part of this family.”
Perhaps I would be, if any of it were real. As it stands, I need to come up with a way out of this before I get even more entangled in a life that will never be mine.
Especially when I have plenty to worry about with the family I have.
CHAPTERELEVEN
AIKA
