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He returned his attention to Valter, and her heart fell. He didn’t believe her.

“This entire conversation is irrelevant. In less than two weeks, she will emerge along with all the other Fae of age, and we will know what her element is,” Theon said.

“I have made arrangements for her to be reevaluated by a Priestess in Rockmoor in two days,” Valter answered.

“That is not your decision to make,” Theon spat. “She is mine, not yours.”

“I will not be caught off guard at the Emerging Ceremony, Theon,” Valter barked. “You should be the one demanding this, not me. Your Source has kept secrets from you.”

“How I deal with my Source is not your concern,” Theon countered.

“Wrong, boy,” Valter growled, his fist slamming onto the table so hard the cutlery rattled. “She will reflect upon this kingdom as much as you and your brother do. We cannot appear weak. Ever. And certainly not right now.”

“How would her having the earth element versus the air element change anything?” Axel cut in, sounding bored.

“The more intensive assessment the Priestess will perform will not only assess her probable element but also her power level. Something not routinely done in the generic assessments unless requested,” Valter replied. “The other heirs would have had these advanced tests done before they chose their Sources. It will put us on a more even playing field.”

“Tell him the other good news,” Cressida suddenly chimed in, her hand coming to rest on her husband’s arm.

“A potential Match is visiting Rockmoor and will be at the Acropolis all year for the Selection proceedings. I have arranged for you to have lunch with her after the assessment is finished,” Valter replied, pushing his plate back for a Fae server to remove.

“For fuck’s sake,” Theon spat, sitting back in his seat and taking a long drink of his whiskey. “Is that really necessary right now? We have far more important things to be focusing on.”

“I did not say the Match was decided,” Valter went on, his fist tightening around his glass. “I said you were going to meet her.”

“I can meet her another day.”

“You will meet her in two days in Rockmoor. It would be ideal to have a Match arranged before the end of the Selection year,” Valter replied while everyone else’s plates were cleared from the table.

Tessa hadn’t finished her food. She was too shocked by the conversations taking place around her right now.

“Yes, I would love some time to get to know my future daughter-in-law before a union ceremony, Theon,” Cressida agreed, bringing her wine to her lips. It was red. Dark red. Blood red. She had never drank from a clear wine glass before. It had always been a silver or gold chalice. This was crystal though, and Tessa had never seen wine that color.

“You can at least meet her,” Luka suddenly said, speaking for the first time in a while.

“Perhaps you should meet her,” Theon bit back. “You will need a Match, too.”

Luka smirked at him. “Maybe she has a sister.”

“Fuckwit,” Theon grumbled, flipping him off.

“Theon!” Cressida chided.

“Enough!” Valter barked. “Taking a Match is part of your responsibility as an heir. The sooner an agreement is reached, the sooner our focus can be moved to other things.”

The table fell silent as desserts were placed in front of everyone. Tessa reached for her fork, but Theon lifted his hand from her knee and slid her plate over beside his own. Was he seriously depriving her of dessert now too? This was the only sugar he ever let her have, and only when they dined with his family.

Theon pushed his chair back slightly before reaching over and tugging on Tessa’s hand. She glanced up, his eyes dark with fury as he tugged her a little harder. Getting to her feet in resignation, she moved to stand behind him at the wall. She certainly wasn’t going to risk sitting at his feet again, but before she could take a step, he pulled her to him and down into his lap. Surprise coursed through her as his arm wrapped around her waist. Her heart leapt, and pleasure darted up her spine.

“What is her name then?” Theon asked through gritted teeth, picking up a fork and cutting off a piece of the chocolate and caramel cream pie.

“Felicity Davers,” Valter answered.

Theon didn’t respond, lifting the fork. But instead of bringing it to his mouth, he raised it before Tessa’s lips. Confused, she met his eyes. The anger still glimmered in them, along with that new hardness that had appeared this afternoon, but something far more primal was there too. Without breaking his stare, she opened her mouth and let him slide the fork between her lips. His eyes dipped to the movement, that primal thing flaring brighter.

“Davers?” he questioned conversationally, going for another piece of pie.

“Yes,” Valter answered. “Of the Gracil bloodline. I gave you her file the other morning. Have you looked through any of them?”