Page 45 of Until the End of Ever
“Off you go!”
Right off of the kitchen, the dining hall was already almost full.
Conscious of the flour everywhere—including my tits—I might have felt awkward if the Regis House allowed it, but I was fairly certain there was a spell against awkwardness in place.
The hall where they were all gathered would have felt grand and austere if it hadn’t been for the many games, and jokes, and glasses of wine. It was a lot. A lot of noise, a lot of laughter, a lot of people, and a hell of a lot of food, but literally no one seemed to care about the fact that I’d walked in lightly covered in flour.
I was surprised to note some of the casual attire; a week in Lucian’s company had convinced me that these people never wore anything worth less than a small vehicle.
A glass of wine was thrust into my hand, and complete strangers were asking about my day as I progressed through the throng, aiming for the hostess.
Everyone was just too bloody nice, in fact—to a point where I had to wonder if it was suspicious. That was, until an older woman in black and red stopped me.
“Is the flour on your hair what passes for fashionable these days?” a little old lady asked, tilting her head. “I never can keep up with the trends.”
“Oh, no. I was?—”
“Here you are, darling!” Cassiopea spotted me, and came to the rescue. “I do hope Andrea isn’t bothering you. My mother-in-law can be cantankerous.”
The older woman straightened her spine. “Cantankerous my left ass cheek! I just asked the bint if the flour was a statement. I’ve certainly seen you wear stupider things.”
“And on that note, begone, hag,” Cassiopea said, her smile remaining warm, and her eyes, filled with amusement. I’d seen her pissed earlier today. This wasn’t it. “Go bother your son. Or mine, if you’d like.”
“Never mindthem. Where’s that dragon of yours, hey? I want to give him a hug. Did you actually say they wanted to eat him over the phone?” she added, frowning.
Moments ago, I would have guessed the two womendespisedeach other, but currently Andrea was teary, and Cassiopea took her hands. “Upstairs, with Lucky and some of the kids. I wanted to let them get to know each other, but I’ll call them down to dinner soon. None of your teasing with him, understood? The rest of us can take it.”
Andrea pouted. “I tease everyone. Reach my great age, and you may earn that privilege.”
“You’re seven years younger than me, darling,” Cassiopeia pointed out with a sigh.
Oh.
That was going to mess with my brain.
Andrea swatted Cassiopea’s arm. Twice. “Notall of ushave the blood of a bloody god directly inserted into us from conception. And mentioning age isunkind. Just for that, you owe me a youth potion.”
Cassiopea rolled her eyes. “You know we stock them for you. You can take as many as you’d like.”
“They don’t agree with my stomach.” She harumphed. “I’ll take the wrinkles over bad winds. Besides, they do nothing for my knees or back. And what excuse would I have to be cantankerous if I didn’t look the part?”
I grinned at the two women, finally understanding. The grandma wasn’t a bully; she was having fun. I wouldn’t have recognized that if it bit me in the butt. None of my family joked with each other. Except maybe Gideon and I.
“Kleos has been slaving away in the kitchen for as long as my husband. I’ve been a dreadful host for long enough, and he’ll be upset if he hears. Go bother someone else.”
“Fine, fine, take her away if you must. And tell my grandson to come find me!”
Cassiopea offered me her elbow, and I took it gratefully. “Let’s get you to a guest bedroom. Ever so sorry; it seems no one had anything to do tonight so everyone said yes to my invitation—and showed up early.”
She didn’t seem to care.
The hostess was stopped many times along the way, but finally dragged me up a flight of white marble stairs, gleaming blue in the strange eerie light that seemed to come from within the ceiling, walls and floor, flowing like water.
“You do look lovely, and tonight is casual, so you may not want to change, but if you’d like to, feel free to help yourself.”
I hesitated, but suspecting Kaelius would be cross if I didn’t mention it, I said, “Your husband told me I should ask you to lend me something from your hundredth anniversary? You don’t have to,” I quickly added. “He just said?—”
Cassiopea grinned. “He likes you, then. Good. Please, dress however you’d like. This is a guest room, so there should be a little of everything in the wardrobe.”
