Page 21 of Until the End of Ever (To the Cruel Gods #2)

LUCIAN

I did my best. I tried very hard to escape my mother, locating her as soon as I entered the dining room, and ensuring she was on the other side of the room at all times.

It took her seven minutes to corner me.

“Why, pray tell, am I not getting an official announcement yet?” Cassiopea hissed, appearing from a dark corner like an eldritch nightmare.

She must have nicked that trick from Ronan.

“She lives with you—don’t deny it, Cassius talked of morning baked goods. You don’t bake. You don’t even do mornings!”

Damn Cassius. I told him not to mention Kleos, but of course he had to find ways around that, the ancient gossip.

“Because,” I ground my teeth together, “there’s nothing to announce.”

“Oh, young people these days!” she growled threateningly.

“Kleos and I are friends. She needs help with an issue, so she’s staying at the manor—in a spare bedroom. And she’s accepting suitors like a good little Pendros, none of them by the name of Regis.”

“Perhaps there should be one the list, then!”

“Her mother’s curating the list.” I snorted. “I wouldn’t make the cut.”

“ Who cares what the harpy wants! Kleos is a smart, beautiful woman. She will choose whoever she believes is the best candidate. Make sure she understands you’re an option.”

I sighed. “Mother, I know it’ll break your heart, but not every woman wants your sons.”

She swatted the back of my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Every straight woman wants my sons, and that’s that. I want this one. No other is an acceptable possibility as the mother of my grandchildren. The end.”

And on that note, she walked towards the kitchen, hands raised and at the ready, just as Father strolled out on unsteady feet, lifting a gorgeous, golden Wellington, which by itself would have fed our three dozen guests.

Naturally, he brought a whole tuna, several hams, and a lamb leg afterwards.

“Tonight,” he called, his voice magically amplified, “we were blessed with more friends than we could comfortably sit, so help yourselves from the banquet!”

There were cheers and applause for the chef. He held up his hands to ask for silence again. “For the first time in nigh on a century, since before the Great Stove was installed, I had the pleasure of sharing my kitchen. Come on, dear, don’t be shy,” he called.

I smiled as Kleos blushed, walking out of the kitchen in my mother’s most unique piece of jewelry.

It was a bloody statement that every single person in the damn house understood, a claim of sorts.

My mother was less subtle, but Father was screaming the exact same thing: This is territory of the Regis-Saltzin house. Proceed with caution.

Caveman that I was, I was glad to see it all the same. It was good for unders to know that she was to be considered one of us, looked after. Helped, if it came to it.

But my family was seriously ridiculous. They didn’t understand that it was no longer their era, when women sat down and chose the most suitable match based on lineage and fortune.

Kleos would end up with whoever she chose.

It could be a penniless idiot, if it pleased her.

Hell, she could pick Irwin if she felt like it.

On Sunday, I’d hinted at the possibility of a soul binding, however casual, however platonic, and she ran for it .

She was actively not choosing me for anything other than tickling her clit.

And I knew myself well enough to realize I couldn’t keep doing that without getting lost in a fantasy where I could keep her.

The witch didn’t bother to attempt to carry her offerings: she waved and a silver tray as wide as a man float from the kitchen, causing silence at first.

We were all used to Father’s feasts, always enthusiastic to sample his cooking, but it was fair to say that never, for as long as I lived, had I seen a display of desserts such as the ones Kleos levitated through the hall, until they were resting on one corner of the banquet table.

Once we were all over our shock, the shouts, cheers, and clapping reached the level of an outdoor concert in the town circle, and she deserved every second of it.

I’d sampled her baking for a week straight but this was fucking spectacular .

Bloody hell, would Father notice if I went straight for the sweets?

“Cassius is going to kick himself for missing this.” I turned to find Ronan walking towards me.

“Where were you when I was trying to avoid my mother?” I grunt in annoyance.

He was the best piece of misdirection, distracting as ever.

“Me?” he asked innocently. “Talking to the new houseguest, actually. Clever kid. I’m not sure which class I should enroll him in.

The language barrier might hold him back a year or two and I don’t know how he’ll do with written text.

But we were chatting about portal travel, and he lost me on interdimensional pathways. ”

“He’s going to Night Academy?” I asked.

“Where else?”

The underside literally only had one school, so my question was a little dumb.

“I just figured he’d take a few days off to get settled.”

“Cassiopea said as much. But as soon as I walked in, Lucky and the kid cornered me, demanding to know when he could start. We’re testing him tomorrow.”

The thought of his school moved something at the back of my brain.

Over the years since Ronan took over as chairman of the board and professor in the college, he dragged me there to head a few study sessions, or give speeches about what possible directions the students could take after school.

I’d even recruited some of his alumni for some of the businesses I owned.

Night Academy was an elevator school starting off right at kindergarten level, leading all the way to university.

I’d studied there myself. Not only did it house one of the largest libraries in town, second only to the main one in The Royal Manor, but it was also full of inventive minds used to challenging themselves to think outside the box.

“I have a favor to ask you,” I finally said. “Could you recommend, say, a dozen of your smarter kids for a brainstorming session?”

Ronan cocked an eyebrow. “You want a school thinktank?”

“We have the start of many answers about Kleos, and a fair few theories, but no concrete proof. It wouldn’t hurt to get outside opinions. We present it as a challenge—just a school test, a hypothetical situation. Hell, we can even offer a prize for the best answer.”

“I like it. And it’ll make them think, too…

but I have, like, thirty kids that come to mind.

Tell you what, come with Elias tomorrow.

Bring Kleos. We’ll get him started on his test and I’ll use my open study session for the project.

” My friend punched my shoulder none too gently.

“We’ll make a professor out of you yet!”

“I’d rather shove my hand in a pit of snakes.”