Page 24 of Hupotasso
I roll my eyes and give him a wearied expression, ignoring his jibe. If I bite he’ll continue along this line no end, knowing how it riles me.
Wolf stabs his food with extra gusto and flicks a sidelong glance at Viper. Neither he nor Jag have ever liked my brother, but they tolerate him.
“What is your question, Viper?”
He smirks.
“My question is; do you plan to keep your wife entombed in the West Wing for all eternity? Mother was wondering if the new Lady Dragonspur will be joining us for our evening meals when she returns from her televised tour. And I’d like to get to know her — we didn’t get off to a good start. A total misunderstanding, and one I’d like to clear up.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Viper never misses the opportunity to stir shit, and I never did get to the bottom of what he said to Angelina at the family luncheon that day. Not that it matters any more.
“She prefers to dine alone.”
Mother shakes her head.
“But surely when guests visit she’ll he here at our table?”
“Yes, I suppose,” I snap.
“Trouble in Paradise?” Viper sniggers.
“Not at all,” I drawl.
I realise digging my heels in is going to raise more questions about my marriage, questions best left unasked.
“If that’s what you desire, Mother, by all means invite her to dine with us.”
“Good, it’s settled then,” she smiles as she rises from the table, “I’ll inform the staff.”
“There’s no hurry, surely,” I mutter, “she’s away for another three days at least.”
“Counting the days?” Wolf quips.
I ignore him, but he’s actually not wrong. I’m getting regular updates from Caroline, keeping tabs on my wife until she’s back and locked up under my roof. I may not truly know her, but I know enough about her to know that she’s going to try and run. And when she does she’ll lead me directly to the one who placed her in The Games.
She only has one competitor’s family left to visit on her royal tour. It’s the one family who might offer her an opportunity to escape, and me an opportunity to prove Spider is definitely linked with The Free Men.
And this time, I’ll be ready.
19
The family visits have been just as traumatic as I’d imagined, but I know I’m the picture of royal composure, because that’s how this is being scripted.
Despite having watched countless episodes of other royals doing the rounds to talk to defeated contestants’ families, and despite not actually being responsible for any of the deaths of their daughters, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional backlash.
The deceased, the defeated, they’d all been someone’s daughters, sisters, nieces, aunts, cousins, best friends. These women, at least from what I’d seen of most of their families, apart from a few exceptions, were loved, just as my family loves me.
Grief and anger were close companions now with all these families.
More and more these visits have done nothing but solidify my belief that the VBG are wrong.
So wrong.
Why should young women — beautiful, bright, talented women — die in order to marry a vampire. A vampire who, while offering them immortal life, also demands complete obedience and can never love them in return.
‘But they don’t know that. They don’t know it’s all a ruse. A lie.’
Why should we, the human race, hold these royals in such high esteem? Why should we support them with our taxes, line streets to give them flowers, pour over magazines to see what they’re wearing, simper over their children? Give them children? Why? From what I’ve seen they deserve none of this.
