Tyran ducks just in time as a grape sails past his head. His grin widens.
“We appreciate your restraint, you closeted psycho.”
Iris rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, instead leaning back and reaching for her wine.
“Now poor Kalix must feel neglected. You two can chat forever after dinner.”
Kalix snorts and rests his elbows on the table, turning his attention over to Millicent.
“I am Kalix, captain of the guard. I work in the field—creature killing, location investigations, and interrogations.”
The light from the massive chandelier above glints off the silver rings adorning his fingers as he laces them together.
Millicent’s expression shifts instantly, her face morphing into an impassive, dismissive stare.
“No magic, then?”
Her tone is flat, uninterested, like she’s already decided he has no worth.
I feel my jaw tighten.
Typical.
Her kind has no care for humans outside of breeding or blood sacrifices.
Kalix, however, does not miss a beat.
“No, suppose not.” His smirk curves slow and deliberate. “If Cage and I both had magic, what use wouldyouhave?”
His condescension sinks into the air.
Millicent’s eyes narrow, the sharp retort already forming on her tongue.
Felix, ever the peacekeeper, throws his hands up like a man warding off an angry bear.
“You both are exceptional in your own ways!”
Across the table, Iris stifles a giggle behind her wine glass. The tension still lingers, but I seize the moment to regain control.
“We will all need to worktogether. Out there, bickering will get one of you killed.”
I let the words sink in, my gaze sweeping across the table before I finally settle on Millicent, thrumming my fingers on the table.
“Each player here has a role and a purpose, Millicent.”
My eyes find hers, pinning her in place. Her shoulders tense.
Good.
“Between trips, we prepare. You will assist Iris. Or Kalix.”
Her posture stiffens further. Someone must not like being told what to do.
That will change.
Dinner continues around me, Kalix pestering Iris, occasionally lobbing strawberries at her like some child. She throws half-hearted threats between sips of wine.
Felix, now deep into his third glass, snickers, inserting himself into whatever conversation catches his attention.
