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I blow on it, whisking away the steam and rippling the surface before taking a sip. My lids flutter closed as I savor all the different flavors. I don’t know how Oliver does it, but his tea always tastes the same as long as it’s made with this pot. Across countries and customs, he’s perfected his own blend.
He watches for my reaction, and when I smile, he does too before taking his own sip. After placing his cup back on the kitchen island, he says, “We made it to Fledgling, so that may change things.”
My heart sinks at his reaction. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to be here. “You were hoping we didn’t make it, huh?”
He shrugs before peeking at me. “Honestly, yes. I had a lot of time to think while you were passed out. I thought perhaps we’d overreacted in their eyes, only because we suspect they did something to Delilah? It doesn’t matter now.” He shakes his head. “I wonder how everyone else fared. If they thought it was just the Trial, they might not be as scared as we were.”
I frown into my cup. I can’t worry about everyone else though. I made it this far but now I need to keep pushing further. If we don’t get the Knights to trust us, how will we ever get close enough to figure out what happened to Dee?
Oliver cups my cheek. “They must have loved seeing us that scared.” His lips thin as he scrutinizes me. “We’re going to be more careful this time, aren’t we? No running off on your own. No trying to play the hero.”
“Or you’ll kidnap me and take me to Tahiti. Got it. I’m surprised you left the tea set behind.”
Oliver straightens. “It was by force. Don’t worry, I had a plan in place for her.”
I can only imagine the plan involved his servants bursting in here like inKingsman—a movie Oliver loves. I swear he might have a healthy crush on Colin Firth.
“Listen, if the two arseholes don’t have to watch us, I say we move into the house I’m letting,” Oliver says, brows raised. “We can make it our love nest. I want to christen every room.”
Honestly, it was a nice place, and I can see the merits of staying somewhere with a four-poster bed instead of the little room that still has boxes of Dee’s things in it. Especially if we have to share it with a man who completely fucked me over, but it’s also handy to be so close to the Knights’ headquarters all the time.
“One day, Ollie, you’ll get to have your beautiful estate in the US.”
He gives me a strange look. “In the UK. You love the UK.”
“I can’t live in the UK.”
“Why not?”
“I…don’t want to.”
His lip curls into a sneer. “You want me to live in the US? There are no good people here.”
I cock my head. “I’m not good?”
He waves me away. “You want me to trade in old, impeccably made cities for garbage-ridden, loud ones? And my people who say ‘cheers’ for yours who say ‘yo’?”
His American accent is atrocious, but it makes me laugh, anyway. “I think we have plenty of time to think about it.”
“I don’t,” Oliver states. “Now that I’ve gotten you to realize you love me, I plan on putting a ring on that finger and a baby in that belly and—”
I hop off the barstool and land on my good foot. “Whoa, whoa.”
Oliver chuckles, but before he can respond, we’re interrupted by the doorbell. We both turn serious. Leo opens his door and strides toward the main door with a lion’s focus before I can even make the decision to answer it.
The tattooed asshole sends both of us a warning look I can’t decipher. Is it to tell me not to talk? Or should I still be acting scared?
It’s probably not even a Knight at all. It’s probably—
Leo opens the door, and a Knight strides in. Instantly, I’m at attention. My hackles rise, my spine straightens. I can’t even remove the scowl off my face as he walks into Jarvis Hall like he owns it.
I couldn’t see the faces of any Knights who were at my last Trial. The only one I could decipher was Leo’s grandfather who seemed to be pulling all the strings. He’s at the top spot for suspects who killed Dee. If he can fuck his family’s future wives, he’s capable of anything.
“Sir Wright,” Leo grinds out, eyeing the man as he walks into his domain.
“Young Jarvis.” He peers around the place with squinty eyes set in a pudgy face, briefly noting mine and Oliver’s presence before continuing his perusal. “Where’s Barclay?”
“Not here,” Leo answers cryptically. At least, we’re the only ones who know it’s cryptic since we’re one hundred percent certain he moved the fuck out. Why Leo’s trying to cover up for Alaric, I don’t know. Or maybe he’s not and I just don’t understand what’s going on.