“Forgot what?”
His eyes went to his parents, hand still over his mouth. “It means nothing.”
Not so much the truth.
“It took you long enough to remember.” Cahal rested back in his chair, arms resting over his middle. “You did it in front of my group the day Jacobs and Merrick arrived.”
Again, Ezra chuckled. “That’s right. It makes sense now.” I was pretty sure I had never heard him make that sound before. It was more of a nervous gesture than an actual laugh.
“Um, hello?” I stated quietly, placing down the coffee cup that had created this mess. “I would love to be enlightened.”
Ezra’s gaze darted to mine, holding there. “Sharing a drink with another Mystical is a gesture that you trust one other with your lives.”
I stared. “I think I’m missing the issue here. Of course we trust each other with our lives. We’re part of our four.” And the big deal is?
“And?” Cahal hedged, head cocking.
Ezra cleared his throat. “It’s really only a big deal if you do it in front of others during a large gathering like a meal or a party.”
Still, I stared.
Cahal coughed.
Ezra’s head tilted back and forth, and he said quietly behind his hand, eyes on mine, “And the symbolic gesture is done when two people are,” he paused, “courting one another.” My mouth gaped, and he added quickly, “One partner initiates it, pretty much telling any other suitors vying for the other partner’s attention to back off, and when the other partner drinks from the cup it means they accept the offer.” He choked. “It’s done at marriage ceremonies as an old tradition.”
I was pretty sure my eyes were as large as saucers, but I cleared my throat, picking the coffee cup back up. “All that for drinking from this?”
All three nodded.
My chuckle sounded as weird as Ezra’s had, my gaze swinging back and forth between his parents. “Well, I told you guys I didn’t like rules that ‘just are’.” I toasted them. “Bottoms up.” And I downed the remaining contents.
Ezra made a choking noise, his hand blurring he grabbed the cup so quickly from me, but I had already finished it off. There hadn’t been much left. He stared into its porcelain depths. He made a gurgling noise, tipping the thing upside down. Nothing fell.
Vivian’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide.
Cahal cleared his throat, staring at the cup. “What he didn’t finish telling you, Ms Ruckler, is the prophecy of the act of sharing a drink.”
Ezra sat the cup down carefully. “If the drink is consumed completely, greed instead of selflessness, the one who took the last drop will sacrifice all for their partner.”
Huh. “It sounds complicated.” I gestured to the cup. “And yet, it’s still an old tradition full of superstition. We had no clue what we were doing, and we’re only friends, not on the track for marriage.” I shrugged.
Ezra rested back, also shrugging, finally getting his act together. “No problem.” He scooted the cup with his finger. Away from him.
I snorted, giving him a moment more to compose himself. “No wonder Elder Merrick’s and Elder Jacobs’s eyes went wide.”
“Yes, they were surprised,” Cahal murmured, his eyes still on the cup, like his wife’s. “And before, out of curiosity, I checked the beer bottle and the two coffee cups that day, after you left. There were a few drops left in each one.” His gaze lifted to ours. With very quiet words, he asked point-blank, “Is there anything romantically going on between the two of you?”
Well, today he wasn’t beating around the bush, and beautifully, Ezra and I kept studious expressions on our faces, our heart rates normal. Probably because we had been accused of it so often in the past that we were now used to it. My eyebrows rose, and I pointed at the cup. “You’re asking because you believe in an ancient ritual?”
He rested back in his chair again. “Actually, no, I’m not asking because of that. Although, I do believe in it, even the prophecy, since I’ve seen it occur, the one who drank the last drop not even realizing they were completing the sacrifice.”
“Me, too,” Vivian murmured absently, her hand still over her mouth, her eyes on the cup.
“No, Dad,” Ezra whispered. “There is not, and never has been, anything romantically going on between Lily and me.” Lie. “We’re only friends.” Lie. “But, don’t feel bad, you’re not the first to think otherwise.” Truth.
He said it all without a fluctuating heartbeat or batting an eye.
Cahal’s blank expression didn’t change, his gaze turning to me. He raised one eyebrow. “And your answer would be?”