Chapter Thirty-three #2
I was beginning to regret not stamping on his foot. Mortimer held his gaze for an unsettlingly long moment before returning his attention to me.
“Personally, I’ve always thought the more interesting question was why the Arthurian stories survived so successfully after the Norman conquest.”
I blinked. That was actually an extremely interesting question.
Beside me, Dominic made a tiny sound under his breath that I suspected meant oh no, historian mode activated.
Mortimer’s eyes flicked back towards him before returning to me. “Well?” he prompted.
I found myself answering before I’d decided what I was going to say.
“As well as the link between the Welsh and the Bretons, who had their own King Arthur legends, it’s because the stories became useful in forming a national myth.
The Normans absorbed Arthur into legitimacy narratives almost immediately, especially once Geoffrey of Monmouth got involved.
A conquered culture’s mythology is much less threatening if you can write yourself into it. ”
Dominic’s focus on Mortimer had wavered as I spoke. He was now watching me, and bizarrely, he looked both fond and proud.
Mortimer smiled slightly. “Interesting.”
I had the weirdest feeling he wasn’t talking about my answer.
“I should circulate,” he said, and I breathed out in relief. He looked from me to Dominic. “I’ll speak to you again later.”
I waited until he was at the other side of the room before I dared say anything, and even then, I leaned in close to Dominic before speaking.
“For one thing, that sounded very like a threat,” I informed him. “And for another, what were you thinking, letting him know that we know what he’s up to?”
Dominic looked utterly unbothered. Unlike me, whose tie was threatening to strangle me.
“I was thinking he’s used to being the dragon who everyone obeys, the only one who can see all the pieces on the board because it’s his board. I wanted to see how he’d react if he knew he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought.”
“Or,” I said, necking my sherry and reaching for another one, “you just like poking at people.”
He grinned at me. “That too.”
Rhodri and Mortimer had one thing in common—they expected the world to arrange itself around them. And something deep in Dominic rebelled against that.
It was a dangerous game. Mortimer had the wisdom of a serpent and the power of a dragon king. I just wanted us both to keep our heads down and stay away from him until he left.
DOMINIC
The dining room looked like Glenys had finally been given her head to do what she’d always dreamed of.
Or maybe she was rehearsing for the wedding.
Either way, white linen covered the table, with silver candelabra placed at strategic points, and the best crystal glasses had come out.
I hadn’t seen them in years. Every Bedwyr dragon appeared to have located their smartest clothes on pain of death.
Which, to be fair, might not have been entirely inaccurate.
I watched the family taking their places around the table and frowned. Teddy and Rae were missing.
“I’m eighty-five per cent sure Abimelech Mortimer has encountered a child before,” I murmured to Ben before he peeled off to go to his own seat.
“I don’t know,” Ben said quietly. “I’m quite glad Teddy’s not here. Mortimer might decide he’d make a good snack.”
Honestly, fair.
Mortimer himself sat at Rhodri’s left hand, elegant and composed in a dark suit that had probably cost more than my car. Rhodri, meanwhile, looked exactly as he always did at the head of the table—controlled and watchful enough to make everyone nervous.
And me? Still seated at his right hand as though the possibility of my exile wasn’t hanging invisibly over supper.
Served by Toby, Rhi and Glenys, the meal itself rapidly became one of the strangest family mealtimes I’d ever endured, because Rhodri spoke to me. Not that he had much choice, I supposed, once Mortimer drew me into their conversation.
“The difficulty with modern productions,” Mortimer remarked, “is that directors no longer trust the audience to sit with sincerity. Everything has to be ironic.”
“Particularly with Verdi,” Rhodri said. “Half the time they seem embarrassed by emotional intensity.”
Mortimer inclined his head slightly. “Quite.”
I couldn’t stop myself looking at Rhodri, wondering what he knew about emotional intensity.
Mortimer noticed immediately. “You disagree, Dominic?”
“No,” I said cautiously. “I was just unaware my father had opinions about Verdi.”
“When I was younger,” Rhodri said, after a moment, “I went to the Welsh National Opera fairly regularly.”
I stared at him. He’d apparently once had hobbies, and I’d never known that about him.
Mortimer, damn him, looked faintly amused.
“Cardiff had an excellent Ring cycle some years ago,” Rhodri continued.
Mortimer nodded. “Though Covent Garden still handled Wagner better in the nineties.”
“The late-nineties production of Parsifal was dreadful, however.”
“God, yes,” Mortimer agreed. “Utterly self-indulgent.”
It was deeply disorienting to discover that the two most terrifying dragons I’d ever met apparently had opinions about staging choices in Wagner.
Further down the table, Ben caught my glance, clearly reading every thought on my face.
I watched his mouth twitch around the rim of his wine glass. Traitor.
The thing was, though, while Ben was valiantly attempting to behave like a normal person and conduct polite conversation with Jeff and Phoebe, his attention kept drifting back to me. Each time Mortimer addressed me directly, Ben sat up a little straighter.
Protective historian mode. Which was adorable, considering Mortimer could buy and sell entire governments before breakfast.
Still, I couldn’t exactly judge him for watching me when I kept doing exactly the same thing whenever he laughed at something Phoebe said. Every time he smiled, warmth flickered in my chest, involuntary and impossible to suppress.
Mortimer noticed that too. I realised it when his gaze followed mine and lingered on Ben for half a second too long before returning smoothly to Rhodri.
By the time dessert had been vanquished and coffee appeared in the drawing room, I finally understood that Mortimer had spent the entire evening assessing us.
Unfortunately, I had no idea what he was looking for.