“Lydia,” Vairlyn said firmly.
Her innocent question pinched something painful inside me. Many times, Lydia, I wanted to say. A hundred times and every kiss was better than the last. I still taste his lips on mine; I still feel his breaths as my own. Maybe that I could never say those words aloud is what hurt—more words that would have to remain beneath the surface, crowding for room with all the rest.
“She’s at that age,” Vairlyn said apologetically. “Always full of questions.”
I smiled. “It’s a good age. Questions are important.”
Jalaine looked at me expectantly, as though she still hoped I would answer. I didn’t.
“Jalaine has a beau,” Nash said proudly.
“No, I do not, Nash.” I watched Jalaine’s frustration with her loose-lipped sibling grow.
“But Fertig asked you to marry him,” Lydia countered.
“And I haven’t said yes,” she answered between gritted teeth.
“Yet,” Priya mumbled under her breath.
Thankfully, the first course was brought in by Aunt Dolise, and it provided a welcome distraction for both me and Jalaine. A servant followed with two large baskets of bread. I remembered Jase saying that his aunt did most of the cooking for the family. She set a large tureen of soup on the table, and Uncle Cazwin began filling bowls and passing them. I was surprised we were starting without everyone present.
“Will Jase and the others be joining us?” I asked.
“Jase said he might be a little late,” Aram answered. “He and the others were called away with business.”
“And my friends?” I asked. “Jase said they were guests here too. Will they be coming?”
“I haven’t seen anyone else here,” Nash said.
“Me either,” Lydia chimed in.
A cluster of quick tight glances were exchanged between the older Ballengers.
“I believe you’re mistaken,” Vairlyn answered. “They’re being accommodated somewhere else. Not here.”
“But we’ll let Jase know that you asked,” Samuel said. “Maybe he can bring them over tomorrow.”
Sure he can.
They were a finely tuned machine, working together and finishing one another’s thoughts. The only wrenches in the works were Lydia and Nash. I was feeling more certain that Wren and Synové were free and safe. Suddenly my appetite doubled.
When everyone was served, Vairlyn said a prayer to the gods, not unlike the acknowledgment of sacrifice that was given at Sanctum Hall meals. But here no platters of bones were passed in remembrance.
“Meunter ijotande,” I said quietly to myself as the others echoed Vairlyn’s final thanks.
“What was that?” Priya asked, missing nothing I said or did.
“Just part of a Vendan p
rayer of thanks.”
“What does it mean?” Aram asked.
“Never forgotten. It refers to the sacrifice that brought the meal to the table.”
Samuel raised a suspicious brow. “Sacrifice?”
“The labor. The animal. All gifts, including food, come with a cost to someone or something.”