Chapter 193. Dinner With Mom
Maisie
Dinner was something of a banquet, but it was the tensest I’d ever been to. And considering how tense dinner with the Lycan Queen had been, this was record breaking.
More than half of the table hated us and didn’t bother trying to hide it. I thought the only reason they weren’t reaching across to stab us was because they feared their queen.
The other half ogled us like we were dinner, the males shameless in their perusal of me and my body, and the females batting pretty lashes at my mates, like they wanted pieces out of them.
The red head across the table—Trinity?—was currently running her toes up and down what she thought to be Jericho’s foot, staring at him from under long, hooded lashes, biting her bottom lip softly in a ’come hither’ look that should’ve looked silly, but was infuriatingly attractive on her.
And I wondered if she knew it was my leg she was rubbing on.
Quinlan was laughing quietly beside me behind a glass of wine.
Of course, he would find it funny that I was fuming, when literally every maid who dropped a platter of food between him and Mercer always seemed to have a problem with their necklines hanging absurdly low and their skirts hiking high enough that when they ’accidentally’ dropped the tray or a glass, I was flashed with an obscene view.
I wanted to go home. I was having too many murderous thoughts tonight.
Jericho took a slice of the yummy looking dessert cake and placed it into my plate. "You should eat, malyshka. We can’t have you passing out from all the energy you’re expending thinking about how to turn her into meat skewers."
I glared at him and stabbed into the chocolate cake. The fork went straight through, clanging against the porcelain and shattering it.
The redhead jumped in her seat, as did everyone else on the table, more than twenty pairs of eyes snapping to me as I growled, "Get your toes away from me or I’ll cut them all off."
Her eyes widened and her cheeks burned red as she straightened in her seat.
An undignified snort escaped Kara who sat like a prim and proper lady beside Ryder, and then she slapped her hand over her mouth in horror, ducking her head low like it was something that would go punished.
"Easy, Cherie," Quinlan said, passing the broken shards of the plate to the nearest maid. "We aren’t killing anyone today, oui?"
I glared pointedly at the maid bent at his side, with her breasts all up in his face. A growl escaped me.
Maybe I was overreacting. But I could’ve sworn the buttons of her blouse were all done five seconds ago.
"Pathetic," someone whispered not too far off. It was a dark haired man, one of whom had been glaring at me all evening. "She’s a wild creature. A violent, little thing who needs a leash."
"Maybe I’ll let her put a leash on you," Soren crooned sweetly, a smug smile playing softly on his mouth. "I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to handle being on the receiving end of that violence, though."
The man’s face turned red.
"She abuses them?" a woman whispered down the table. "Little wonder they’re all wrapped around her fingers like that. She must be very powerful if she is able to bring the four princes to heel. They have quite the reputation. You know they call her wedding to them The Bloody Wedding."
"Of course, she is powerful. She is the Queen’s daughter," another gossiped.
Another woman nodded and whispered, "Look how the silver haired one keeps feeding her. Poor thing. She must have traumatized them. She treats them like puppies, when they should be worshipped."
My left eye twitched. What on earth was wrong with these people?
Mercer’s eyes narrowed as my hands trembled around my fork. "May," he said in warning like I was something volatile, about to explode, though his eyes were lit with amusement, like he was enjoying this.
"I’ve heard from my sons that you attend the academy."
The table fell silent and it took me a little while to realize Margaret was speaking. To me. I lifted my gaze and found hers at where she sat at the table’s head.
It was the first time she was addressing me directly and I tried not to squirm under the intensity of that stare. Margaret Hunt had hawk-sharp eyes that seemed to tear right into your soul and crush it under her heel. She watched people like she had seen all that they were and wasn’t impressed. Unlike the Lycan Queen, she didn’t bother hiding the ruthless stare behind cunningness or a smile.
Matter of fact, I didn’t think the woman ever smiled. Her face was as smooth and hard as stone. And just as cruelly beautiful. And I hated looking at her, because it was like staring at a mirror version of myself. Only older, harder, and somehow meaner.
She lifted a goblet to her blood red mouth. "They tell me you’re quite the bright student. Top of your year in several subjects, if I’m not mistaken."
I didn’t know what to say to that. Kisten shifted uncomfortably across the table, dragging his large hand down his embroidered jacket. Bastian hadn’t looked up from his plate since dinner started, and Ryder looked more demure than I’d ever seen him. There was none of that snark or sarcasm or cruel mischief.
He looked subdued.
"You remind me of your father in that way, Adeline," Margaret said. "He was clever, too. Always thinking three steps ahead. But I suppose even the cleverest of people can make foolish mistakes."
My hand tightened around my fork and I saw from my peripheral that my mates were rearing forward at the thinly veiled insult, prepared to defend me, but this was between me and Margaret. "It’s Maisie to you and don’t insult my father."
Her sharply arched eyebrow rose. "I named you Adeline when I pushed you out from between my legs. If that is what I wish to call you and not the name your father gave you, then it is what I will. Surely, I am owed that much after all this time that has been stolen from me."
My nails curled, digging into my palms as I vibrated. "We both know the reason why Dad ’stole’ us, and you had him killed for it."
She nodded in agreement. "Ah, yes. A slit throat, was it? They tell me he bled enough all over the floors that the house had to be burned to hide the evidence of it. How unfortunate."
"Enough," Mercer snarled when heat spiked up underneath my skin, the need for violence making my teeth gnash.
And Kisten snarled right back, "Watch your damned tone, Black."
Margaret never looked away from me. Neither did I, when I said, "It mustn’t have been that ’unfortunate’ seeing as you ensured the last thing he heard before he died was that you sent your greetings."
No reaction at all. She was as cold and unfeeling as the rocks that the castle was built with. "No. I suppose not. What I find unfortunate is that you had to witness that. Despise me all you want but we will have this conversation again when you have been betrayed by a common Omega you chose, who had your child ripped away from you and ran off with a scullery maid."
She cocked her head like an adder waiting to strike. "It is easy to judge right and wrong when you haven’t worn the shoes yet. His death was penance and I do not feel guilty for it."
I bristled in my seat. Jericho’s hand landed on my thigh, soothing my annoyance, and I bit back the childish retort on my tongue.
She continued, "You must know how bereft I was when I discovered you were gone. There’s not a single stone I didn’t uncover in searching for you. I did everything I could to get you back."
My hands were still clenched tightly around my fork. "And Lana?"
She frowned. "Who?"
She couldn’t have meant that.
But she looked momentarily confused, like she didn’t know who or what a ’Lana’ was.
The heat of anger flared under my skin like fire. "My twin sister. You know, your other daughter?"
Her frown cleared. "Ah. The other one. I hear she is well cared for by the Braxtons. There was no need to disrupt her perfect life. You, however, I needed—"
"Because you thought I was useful? And why is that, exactly?" I couldn’t keep the rage out of my voice.
The table had fallen completely silent. I’d completely forgotten during our back and forth that we had an entire table of people listening and watching.
Margaret only blinked slowly. "It is quite unfortunate that you think I do not care for you, Adeline. I have, after all, thrown this little banquet in honor of your return home." She raised her glass of wine in my direction, her eyes flicking over the table. "A toast. To my long, lost daughter," she said.
And I understood as everyone raised their glasses that I was being dismissed.