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T he ride back was just as stiff as before, made more awkward by the moment we shared when I was on the brink of a full-fledged panic attack.

Stay with me, Mara.

His words—his voice —just kept reverberating through my mind, over and over again.

And every time I thought I might turn to say something, I would see his body, rigid as stone, focused intently out his window.

The words would hang on my tongue for a second, until I would close my mouth and look out my own window again.

I just wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Once we were home, Smiley let me out of the car first. I bolted up the steps and raced back to my room, seeking solace.

As it turned out, there was no safe haven there either.

No sooner had I crossed the threshold of my door when a maid showed up, telling me Marissa fully expected me to have dinner in the dining room tonight.

I was told to hurry—“ chop, chop ”—and get dressed for dinner because I was going to be late.

I hustled to shower and threw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a pastel pink blouse that was actually quite flattering on me.

Then I was out my door and off to the dining room.

I had been at Castle Calvernon for several days, yet had only ever eaten in the dining room twice, both of which were insanely uncomfortable for me.

Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to eating there again.

Turning a corner, I came up to the dining room door, which gave way easily under the pressure of my hand.

There, with their meals before them, were the Calvernons—their napkins in their laps, utensils still sitting neatly in their place—and all three of them turned to face me as I stepped into the room.

My face grew hot as I realized they had been waiting for me to show up before taking so much as a lick of their food. Well crap …

“Um,” the sound fell off my lips flatly, “you could have started without me—”

“Nonsense,” Charles waved me off. “We were in no rush to begin.”

“Of course,” Marissa chimed in as she blinked softly—delicately—her eyes boring into me. “As a young lady of your stature should know, it is poor etiquette to eat when all are not present at the table.”

I blew out a breath. Shit. Yeah, I guess a ‘lady of my stature’ would know if she ever ate real food! How was I supposed to know? And besides, it’s not like my family ever treated me like I counted at the table. I very well could have been the dog coming to swallow stupid nourishment pills.

“They don’t eat food, Mom.” Wes’s deep voice caught me by surprise, and I turned to face him.

“Well,” Marissa began, a smile coming to her lips, “maybe if she dined with us more often, she would learn.” Wes threw her a haughty stare, but she was too focused on me to even notice.

“Yes, well,” Charles interjected, “why don’t you sit down, Mara. Do you mind if I call you Mara ?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “We’ve got much to discuss.”

With a deep breath, I walked to the chair across from Wes. He watched me under hooded eyes, stoic mask firmly in place. Having observed everyone’s napkin in their lap, I quickly did the same.

“Perfect. Well, let’s begin by discussing the gala,” Charles announced.

Oh great.

Wes picked up his fork and knife and began carving the thick slab of charred meat, while Marissa grabbed her wineglass and took a sip of the rich burgundy liquid.

“Now, we’ll be inviting all the big players, naturally. And of course, we’ll be inviting our allies to the east.”

“Mmhmm,” Wes mumbled as he ate, never so much as glancing at his father. But Charles never seemed to notice. He just went on and on and on about a guest list I couldn’t have cared less about.

“Marissa, you’ll be ordering the flower arrangements tomorrow?”

“Yes, dear.” It could have been just me, but I was pretty sure I detected a hint of annoyance in her tone. I reached for my glass of water and started sipping it.

“Wonderful. Oh! No, Mara. Try the wine. I’ve had this bottle opened especially for you,” Charles said.

“What?” I looked at Charles and then at the glass sitting in front of me, filled with the same burgundy liquid. “Um, I’ve never had wine before. We don’t have alcohol in Telvia. I’ve never—”

“Well,” Marissa interjected, her voice saccharine, “then you should absolutely have some. And remember, dear ,” she said with an unusual emphasis on the last word, “it’s poor etiquette to leave an expensive glass of premium wine untouched.”

I glared. I couldn’t help it. Something about her tone and her total attitude…it was like she was trying to show Charles I was a terrible match for Wes. And frankly, it pissed me off. I gave her an equally, overly sweet smile, reached for my glass, and took a big sip.

And oh my god, it was a bad idea. The liquid burned as it passed my tonsils and coursed down my throat, leaving my esophagus feeling as though I had just swallowed acid.

Yuck! But I gulped it down, almost choking, and plastered on the biggest smile I could.

Marissa gave a knowing smile back, victory gleaming in her eyes as she raised her glass to me and took another sip.

I raised my glass at her, forcing myself to take another drink before reaching for my water to chase it down.

“Excellent,” Charles said with a genuine smile in his eye.

“Absolutely excellent. Now, let’s discuss the next matter of business.

And, of course, this is the pièce de résistance,” he declared as he brought his fingers to his lips, kissed them, and then held them up high. “Let’s discuss the proposal.”

I started choking on my water.

“What’s the matter, dear? Is something wrong?” Leave it to Marissa.

I coughed and patted my chest before reaching for my napkin to cover my mouth. After a moment or two, tears flooding my vision, I waved Charles on. “I’m fine,” cough, cough . “Don’t”— cough —“mind me.”

“Try taking another sip of wine,” Charles insisted. “It always helps me,” he added with a smile.

I reached for my glass and took another sip, feeling the burn go down my throat, numbing the tickle. It didn’t burn as much this time around.

“Attagirl,” Charles said, raising his own glass. “Now, Wes, you will propose at the gala.”

Wes’s knife screeched suddenly against the china, frozen mid cut. Eyes on the plate in front of him, he said, “I was thinking of something more private—”

My heart stammered as I blew back the wine in my mouth into my glass mid drink. My eyes watered as I tried to cough again as quietly as I could into my elbow. Privately? He wanted to propose privately ? Privately how? When ? I started feeling flushed.

Charles eyed me like I was an odd duck, but turned his attention back to his son. “Nonsense. You’ll propose at the gala. I’ll make an announcement to clear the dance floor and you will propose to Mara there.”

Wes shifted in his seat. “But—”

Charles kept talking as though he didn’t even notice his son. “I’ve already selected the ring. Your grandmother had a beautiful, yellow gold wedding band with this giant diamond. You would like that, now wouldn’t you, Mara?”

Was he actually asking me? Do I tell him the truth? “Um…well, I…”

“Come now, dear,” Marissa started on, “we’re all family here.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. The truth was, I didn’t like yellow gold. I never thought it looked good on me. And the few times I would even allow myself to imagine getting matched back in Telvia, I always imagined something simple. I had small hands…anything big or ornate would look awful on me.

“Of course, she’ll like it! Every woman wants giant stones set in gold,” Charles declared.

Swallowing, I reached for my wineglass and took another giant gulp. Interestingly, the numbing sensation was growing, and warmth was tickling up my spine and down my limbs.

“Dad,” Wes interjected again, the word sounding hollow and forced.

Once again, Charles didn’t even notice. “I’ve written you a script, Wes. I expect you to have it memorized. It would destroy the mood if you had to read it off a piece of paper.”

“Dad,” Wes repeated more firmly, volume increasing as his knuckles bleached white around his fork.

“The people are going to love it,” Charles rambled on. “It’ll fill them all with hope, and it’ll be a distraction from all of this awful war business—”

“ Dad! ” That got his attention. Charles snapped his mouth closed and faced his son. Wes stared at him head on. “Last time I checked, I’m the one getting engaged. So I’m going to do it my way—”

“You can shut your mouth right there, boy.” And suddenly, the whole scene went Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde . I saw a side of Charles Calvernon I had never seen before. His face grew cold, brows pinched, and lips set in a nasty scowl.

Wes rolled his shoulders back. “I’m not going to—”

Charles slammed his hand on the table, causing all the glasses to rattle and making me jump, spilling wine on my jeans.

“You’ll do exactly as I say. I’m not stupid, Wes.

Don’t try to con me into thinking that either of you have any feelings for each other.

” He pointed at us both, and I felt my insides grow cold, freezing me in place.

“You’re going to propose to her at the gala, and you’re going to read the speech I give you.

You’re going to use your grandmother’s ring, and you’re both going to smile and wave at the crowd like a happy couple.

” He smiled then, a frightening sneer that left me recalling dark memories of blood and solitude.

Wes glared back at his father, brows forming a deep V as his lips pressed together. “You don’t know anything about me or—”

Charles slammed the table again, cutting Wes off.

And then he slammed it again with more force, causing the entire table to shift.

“I’ve had enough of your defiance, boy. When your brother died because of her, I questioned God for punishing me, for taking my pride and leaving me with you. But I didn’t get a say in the matter—”

“ Charles ,” Marissa whisper-yelled at him.

But it didn’t stop him. He only spoke louder, overriding his wife.

“I didn’t get to choose which one of you died and which one of you lived, or else this story would have gone a little differently.

Fine. God wants to leave me with you , then so be it.

But I won’t stand for any more of your insolence, boy.

You’re going to defy me and lead this fucking operation to rescue the Telvian, then fine.

But so help me, you will follow orders or live to regret it. ”

My heart pounded. Fear gripped my core. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I couldn’t believe that this was Wes’s real life.

That his father was so open and blatant about his preference for Chase.

But I guess if anyone could understand Wes’s situation, it would be me.

Suddenly, I felt like I was back in Telvia, back at the dinner table of my own home, with my parents openly discussing what a disgrace I was.

And all I could do to keep from crawling under the table was chug the rest of my wine.

“And you,” Charles continued, turning his attention to me. I bit down on my bottom lip as he opened fire. “You will accept his proposal, and you will honor this family. Marissa told me about that boy that went into your room.”

I caught movement on the other side of the table, and I peeked at Wes out of the corner of my eye, catching him staring at me. And the look I saw there made me feel rotten inside, because I swore I saw hurt in his eyes.

Charles continued, “You will honor the Calvernon name and conduct yourself in the manner that a happy bride does. And if you should survive that train wreck of a mission, you will marry my son, and I will have my portion of Telvia. Do you understand?”

I couldn’t move. I was frozen. And suddenly, I was feeling sick to my stomach.

“I…” I wanted to tell him to go eff off.

But every part of me was glued to the chair, afraid that I would give myself away.

That any word—any shift—would reveal my secret.

That I had no intention of following through with any of it. “I—”

“Stupid girl.”

“Hey!” Wes snapped, his tone thick with hate as he stood up from the table. “We’ve got it, okay ? And since you’ve made it all so clear and laid everything out for us, we should start rehearsing all our lines for this fucking show you’re putting on.”

“Now you listen here, boy—”

“No, Dad,” he interjected, his words dripping acid.

“ You listen.” Wes walked around the table towards me.

“I get you wish I was dead, that Chase was still alive. Sorry . Too. Fucking. Bad. You got me instead. So I’ll follow your fucking orders, but she doesn’t deserve to deal with your shit.

That’s between you and me. So leave her out of it! You got that?”

Wes was at my side, grabbing my arm, and encouraging me to stand. I wasn’t going to fight him on this one. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, but the room was starting to spin, and it only felt worse as I stood. Somehow, I maintained my balance.

“Let’s go, Mara,” Wes coaxed.

Charles glared at Wes, and for once, Marissa’s smug smile was gone and in its place was sorrow.

At that moment, I realized Marissa cared for Wes, that she didn’t approve of any of this.

And I felt bad for her. She was trapped in a war between her spouse and her son, and that was a terrible place to be.

Wes tugged on my arm gently, and I followed. But just as I took a step, the world spun harder on me, causing me to grip Wes’s arm.

Charles stood. “You will sit down at this table—”

“Turns out,” Wes shot back, “we’re not hungry.” He looped an arm around my waist and ushered me out of the room. Just as I heard the satisfying click of the door latching closed, I felt the world spin, and the floor was pulled out from underneath me.