Page 151 of Gift from the Wing

“Mom’s dragging us all together, huh? Great,”Caspian drawls with an eye roll.

“Not Mom. Me,”I say.

Willow and my brothers all whip their heads toward me questioningly, but I don’t let my mask crack. We’ll discuss everything we need to when we leave the academy. For now, we need to focus on this kid and his future.

The future we’ll be able to provide for him once we wrap up this shit show of a war in our realm.

Twenty-two…

Twenty-two people sit around my parents’ table. Including me.

That’s how much our family has grown in the time my princess has been here and although she’s anxious, has been since I announced we were having a family meeting, she’s grinning from ear to ear. Her gaze bounces across each Nexus, ours, my parents’, the Mercies’, and Lyker’s, plus Keeper and Gaster with such tenderness and so much love, it’s heartwarming.

That’s the whole point of this meeting.

We’ve got to make some changes, put plans in place so our family, all families across the realm, can relax, enjoy their lives without the threat consistently hanging over their heads.

Me suggesting major changes. Never thought I’d see the day.

And actually feel…be okay with it.

Having Layton’s tour of the academy first before this meeting was more of a help than I realized it would be. As we walked through every building, every square inch, the new training gym, where he’d be stayingin Vince’s new house. Every occurrence was a small, subtle change that loosened me up and fortified what I’m going to bring up in a moment, is the right thing to do.

It’s even more solidified in my mind now as I gaze at every person in this room. We all have our roles to play and if we play them properly, we can make irrevocable strides in the direction we need to be going.

“Corentin, my boy, you called this meeting. We’ve eaten, talked, teased, so let’s get on with it or Aurora and Willow are going to lose the fragile amount of patience they have,” Gaster teases, looking between the two of them, grinning as they glare at him.

“It’s not a lack of patience, thank you very much, Gaster. It’s anticipation of whatever he’s about to say. You know how hard it is to know I could just dive into his mind to find out, but I don’t?” Willow sasses right back.

“Exactly. I can feel his assuredness and apprehension. It’s got me on the edge of my seat,” my mom tacks on.

“I get it. It’s nothing bad, so everyone can ease up on the worry, but I do want to address some things I believe are important,” I say, gaining everyone’s attention.

Normally, I’d lace my fingers in front of me, to ground myself and keep the small glow of light beneath my fingertips concealed, but instead, I unbutton my jacket and lean back.

Willow’s hand slides into mine from beside me, where she’s perched in Tillman’s lap, and I bring it to my lips, sending her a burst of my love through to her bond. Some of this is going to come as a shock to her because I didn’t discuss it with her first, but I believe she’ll see where I’m coming from.

Turning my focus on my mom, I soften my eyes. She’s going to hate this. “We need to move the Spring Ball out.”

Just as I suspected, she startles and gazes between my dads, her mouth falling open and closed.

“The Spring Ball has been the same day for, for…”

“Two thousand years,” Gaster, San, and Caspian all answerat once.

“I’m aware, Mom. It’s been a Vito family tradition since our family took power, but it’s a few weeks out, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re not ready for it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned here lately, you can’t ignore any inklings. It’s going to benefit us more by pushing it out, gain as much information as we can before we have a castle full of possible traitors,” I state firmly.

Willow’s disappointment slices me momentarily before her complete, unwavering agreement stitches me right back up.

“Corentin’s right. Things fall in place when they’re supposed to and if this is a feeling he can’t shake, then we aren’t supposed to shake it,” she states confidently, squeezing my hand harder.

“Okay then,” my mom whispers, a little teary-eyed over the broken tradition, but she clears her throat and rights herself. “When do you think we should host it?”

“The last day of spring for the Central. That gives us six weeks total to learn as much as we can and make as many moves as we need to.”

I emphasize spring for the Central because it lasts longer here than anywhere else. Because of the four territories meeting here, the seasons change very differently than anywhere else.

“That’s only three weeks more, angel. It’ll be fine,” Dyce says softly, reaching over to grip Mom’s hand.

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