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Hurt flashes in Cia’s eyes, but she’s quick to school her features into a practiced mask of indulgence. “Of course,” she sing-songs.
I watch Cia like a hawk as she takes her seat at the end of the table, with me on her right, Kai on her left, and Liam next to Kai. No one speaks until Cia signals for the servers to bring in the appetizers.
“Is this the honesty you spoke of?” Arthur asks, accusation heavy in his voice. “Forcing Lupa and Morgana to reveal something they weren’t ready to share?”
“Who said they weren’t ready?” I snarl.
“Watch your words,” Liam barks at the same time.
I move my hand to Cia’s knee and squeeze it, letting her know I’m here. “To me, that didn’t sound like anything but a lover’s spat.” I shrug and keep my tone indifferent as I continue. “It sounded like Morgana was unhappy about the lack of reaction, not the fact that there was one. Besides, everyone here is old enough to fight for their lives in order to get a seat in the Society, so shouldn’t we give them more credit?”
“I’m inclined to agree with Gus,” Remus says. Then he leans towards Lupa. “It might be a good idea to clear the air.” His tone and posture make him seem every inch the Leader he is. To the point, and not accepting any nonsense.
While Cia nervously fidgets in her seat, she manages to keep her expression neutral. “Perhaps it was my fault—”
She’s interrupted by Morgana. “No, Acacia. I apologize, the fault is mine, and only mine. You created a wonderful setting, and it was my own… ahh… I got in my own way. That’s all there is to it.”
Arthur only somewhat relaxes at his sister’s words, but he still doesn’t look entirely convinced. “So, what’s the problem?”
“Let’s wait on the food,” Kai suggests. “Food has a way of making everything less strained.” I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining the disappointed look he sends Cia, and if the way her spine becomes ramrod straight is any sign, she caught it as well.
It feels like we’re all holding our breath as the servers carry the food, placing a plate with spicy strawberry-goat cheese crostini and green tomato stacks with herb oil and chunks of buttered lobster in front of each of us. As one, we pick up our forks and eat without trading words, which makes it rather uncomfortable.
The Hatts keep their gazes downcast, focusing completely on the food. Remus keeps checking his phone. Lupa and Morgana are whispering about one thing or another. Meanwhile, Cia looks like she’s on the verge of losing her composure, and Kai doesn’t look much better. His eyes have hardened, and I can’t help wondering if he’ll be able to keep his mouth shut until we’re alone. Then there’s myself and Liam, and I’m pretty sure my expression matches his. Complete and utter confusion.
What the hell are we meant to do here? This is Cia’s show. She hasn’t wanted our input, instead she’s had this girl chat with Lupa and Morgana, where they’ve apparently made plans of their own.
As soon as the servers have cleared the small plates from the table and served the main course, beef filet and truffle-something-or-other, Arthur loses his cool. “I want some answers, Acacia.” I don’t like the ire in his voice or the hostile look he gives her. “You invite us over to this little party ofyours.You even had a gracious speech prepared, but so far I have seen no honesty fromyou.The only reason I haven’t left with Gwenda is because of our obligations to the Society.” At the last word, he inclines his head towards Kai, completely dismissing Cia.
I look over at Liam, and I have to swallow my snort. He’s only eating with one hand, which undoubtedly means the other is palming one of his beloved blades. Sure, Cia made us promise to be unarmed, but I never for one second thought Liam would follow her wish. If I did, I wouldn’t have left mine behind.
“Arthur,” Morgana says sternly. “It’s not Acacia that has to be honest, it’s me.”
The Hatt Leader arches a brow as he looks at his sister across the table. “And what, pray tell, do you have to be honest about?” Morgana’s confidence seems to waver as Arthur stares her down. “Don’t become quiet now, sister. What do you have to tell me in front of everyone?”
Okay, I really don’t like the way Arthur is acting right now, and I definitely don’t like how I feel he has earned the right to be a dick. His sister is basically telling him she’s kept secrets, and that she feels the best way to disclose them is in front of everyone. That shit has to sting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Cia’s shoulders droop, and I move my hand back on her knee in a show of comfort.
“Arthur.” Cia’s voice holds steady as she calls his name. “Your issue is with me, and maybe that’s fair. But I won’t have you insult my guests.”
All traces of softness disappear from Arthur’s face as his head snaps to the woman at my side. “Insult?” he roars, his face distorted in a feral expression that makes his scar even more prominent than usual. “I think you have that backwards, Acacia. And since you made a big production to say that tonight we’re leaving our titles behind, I don’t have to follow your orders.” Arthur gets to his feet so fast his chair falls over, not once taking his gaze off Cia.
“Sit the fuck back down and let’s be civil about this.” I sneer at the Hatt. He doesn’t react to the words. Instead, he takes Gwenda’s hand and gently pulls her to her feet. “Arthur, come on.”
“This tantrum is beneath you,” Morgana seethes. “What’s gotten into you?”
I don’t need the low snarl from Arthur to know her words aren’t helping the situation. Yet, there it is, and in response, Liam rushes to his feet as well.
This evening is a shitshow of epic proportions.
“Ruler,” Arthur spits through clenched teeth.
Kai sounds bored as he answers, “Yes?”
“Since your wife laid out the rules, I would like to assume you’re okay with them. However, I don’t want you to think I’m disloyal, so I want to ask your permission for me and Gwenda to take our leave.”
And there it is… Arthur has successfully undermined Cia completely, and in a way that makes it impossible to call him out on it. It’s… well, it’s both admirable and bothersome. Yet, I still can’t shake the voice in the back of my head, the one telling me we should have seen this coming.
