Manipulated by fate. Living a life beside someone who was entirely set apart from her.
The more she faced the possibility of a life without choice, the more she saw just how unhappy she’d been for a long time.
She’d been able to ignore it because there had always been a glimmer of hope for the future. A different future. One that was what she made it, rather than one she was forced into. And so she’d endured the silence. The distance. Because she’d imagined there would be something more later.
She looked again at Kairos and Tabitha, at the yawning gulf that was so clearly between these two people who sat right next to each other.
And then she picked up her fork. And dropped it back onto the plate. The clatter, loud and satisfying, startled everyone seated at the table. Zara smiled. “Sorry.”
She wasn’t sorry. Not in the least.
She wasn’t going to go quietly. She wasn’t going to accept this blandly. She had choices. And this was clearly a moment she had to seize. If Andres wouldn’t listen to her, then she would use Kairos and Tabitha and their clear need for decorum above all else.
If he was only marrying for Kairos’s sake, then she would make Kairos want her gone.
As long as they didn’t return her to her captors, she would find her way.
She felt the hard, warm pressure of Andres’s hand on her thigh and she turned to look at him. His eyes were hard. Warning.
But she wasn’t so easily intimidated.
She returned his glare with one of her own, and a slow smile she knew he wouldn’t believe sincere. “Is there a problem, Andres?”
“Not in the least,” he said, his tone soft. Deceptively so.
Just as he didn’t believe her smile, she did not believe his calm. “I’m pleased to hear that.”
He squeezed her thigh. “You’re quite docile.”
She looked up at him again, fluttering her lashes. “I am. Quite.”
“You had best remain so,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Of course, my dear.”
Moments later the waitstaff swept into the room, carrying trays laden with food. They set the small salad plates down on the larger plates. But they had to pause over hers as the fork was still sitting in the center of it. She moved it, smiling sweetly at Andres, who was eyeing her with suspicion.
He had every right to be suspicious. She was going to misbehave.
She ate the salad with very little ceremony. Not pausing in her attack of the lettuce to make polite conversation as everyone else at the table did.
She noticed Andres watching her out of the corner of his eye and lifted her thumb to her mouth to lick up a drop of dressing that wasn’t really there.
Rage flared in his dark gaze, but he could do nothing. Not here. The realization sent a surge of power through her. She was unpredictable, and in this setting, that was probably quite unsettling.
“Oh,” she said, watching the next trays approach. Her voice was low, and only Andres could hear her, as Tabitha and Kairos were talking to other people. “Chicken. That’s delightful. I really could gnaw on the bones if I chose...”
“Do not test me, Zara,” he said, his tone matching hers. “You will not like the result.”
“Is that so?”
“Very.”
“It seems to me,” she said, eyeing her food as it was placed in front of her, “that you did not think before testing me. Putting a ring on my finger right before we entered the room, when I told you I wasn’t ready to commit to marriage.”
She reached down and picked at the piece of chicken with her fingers, keeping her eyes locked with his as she did.
He picked up her plate and in one swift movement, lowered it from the table and dumped the contents into a potted plant by the table.
“Bastard!” She whispered the invective.
“Terror,” he shot back.
“I’m hungry.”
No one seemed to notice what was happening, which was very annoying, since she’d intended to make a small scene. But one that looked...accidental. Not standing on chairs and causing a ruckus. She wanted to look as though she was trying to be suitable but couldn’t manage it because she imagined if she made it clear she was being contrary on purpose Kairos—were he anything like his brother—would only dig in harder.