At that moment, I realized that was a strange question to ask. Why wouldn’t she be? Why did he want to know?
“Of course,” Courtney said. “I think she went to the kitchen.”
We all made our way through the house and sat down in the lounge, arranged on the couch and armchairs.
Bella returned from the kitchen and pulled one of the dining chairs over so we could all sit on separate pieces of furniture while still facing each other.
“Bella.” Tavlor nodded. He was the first to initiate the greeting. Apparently, he was working on his politeness. He was still tense, but this time around, he seemed less suspicious. That had to mean something.
Bella nodded back. “Tavlor.”
He smiled more genuinely this time and I made a mental note to ask Bella more about the Fae and their customs. Maybe I was missing some major etiquette cues that I didn’t know about. Even so, I wished he would tell me. I didn’t want to offend him, and I was sure Courtney didn’t want to either. Then again, Courtney might know and choose not to adhere to it. Not to be purposefully upsetting, but because she was stubborn and she had her own way of handling people.
“Is everything okay?” I asked him.
He didn’t respond straight away. Instead, he stared at me in a way that told me that things weren’t as well as he’d like. He didn’t want to scare my sisters. He was keeping quiet for their sake. And, to a degree, mine.
“That bad?” I asked.
He inclined his head.
“They aren’t any better,” he said carefully.
I inhaled sharply, my chest aching. Damn! Why had I hoped that my father or Tavlor could have worked a miracle by now? It wasn’t Tavlor’s fault.
But my father...
Why couldn’t he be more courageous? Why couldn’t he step up for us?
“Go on,” Bella said.
Tavlor glanced between us. “Firstly, I was asked by your father to send his regard to you all. He is most unhappy that he can’t be the one to liaise with you.”
Bella and Courtney both looked at me, their eyes wide.
“All of us?” Bella repeated.
“As in, us too?” Courtney asked.
Tavlor smiled. “Yes. He is... unusually conflicted about how to play his part in this.”
I snorted. As much as I wanted to believe what he was saying about my father, it was difficult.
“Good to know he can’t work out just how much to lie,” I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else in the room.
Tavlor stared at me. I looked up at him, unsure why he was looking at me like that.
“You shouldn’t think of it like that,” he said, his tone serious. His eyes penetrated me and I shifted my shoulders, trying to get rid of the sensation.
I huffed out a laugh, though it wasn’t funny. “Shouldn’t I?” I asked. “My father lied to the whole Council about who I was, knows the existence of my sisters, and does nothing but sit pretty in his powerful position and lie to keep his status.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back at Tavlor, challenging him to correct me with an arched brow. I’d like to see him explain that to me.
He shifted in his chair though he didn’t actually look away. “The High Warlock gains nothing by losing his position, and his life, Ava,” he pointed out, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He has to act strategically. For you, for your sisters, and his own well-being.”
I looked away. I hated to admit that Tavlor’s explanation made sense, more sense than I wanted it to.
“It’s still horrible to be in my shoes, Tavlor,” I insisted. “He could be helping me, and instead he’s hiding.”