Octavia gasps. “Did your tail almost hit me?”
“Yup.” I pat the arrowhead-shaped end. “You’re protective of Lincoln, aren’t you, boy?” I stare pointedly from Octavia to Connor. “He doesn’t understand why you were talking to the same people who just tried to put your son in jail. To be honest, I’m not getting it, either.”
Lincoln moves to stand beside me. “That kind of behavior is precisely why we wanted to chat.”
Connor starts scoping out the leftover trays of food. “And what do you wish to discuss, my son?”
Now, I like food the same as the next person, but not at a moment like this one. Connor’s acting like a creep.
“We’d like to investigate the Pulpitums again,” says Lincoln. “Now.”
Connor picks up an éclair and eyes it. “Sure, whatever you want.”
“Although, I wish you’d let us focus on these things.” Octavia wrings her hands at her waist. “You should be enjoying your wedding, not worrying about the transfer stations.”
“Yeah, we should,” I say. “But the situation with Acca is out of control, and that makes us wary.”
“Situation?” asks Connor. His lined face is the picture of innocent confusion.
I throw my hands up. “How can you ask that? I feel like I’m taking crazy pills here. Was I the only one who watched Lady Adair of Acca turn into fucking Armageddon while rigging up all the Pulpitum in the process?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“That was three months ago! Acca tried to kill me and force Lincoln into marrying that psycho bunny, and you know what’s happened to them since then? Zero. Zip. Nada. Nothing. If anything, Acca is going after Lincoln even more with this codex-stealing fiasco. And still, you’re doing everything you can to help them.”
For a few seconds, everyone stares at me, dumbfounded. Finally, Octavia speaks. “Ruling Antrum is very complex, Myla. Connor is balancing some extremely delicate situations.”
“Bullshit.”
Octavia gasps. “What did you say?”
“I said bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.”
A tortured look comes over Lincoln’s face. “Myla…”
“No, I’ve tried keeping my mouth shut. That clearly isn’t working.” I round on Connor. “It’s time someone told you the truth. Lincoln and I both thought we’d moved past this strange connection between you and Acca. Obviously, we haven’t.”
Everyone stares at me with varied looks of shock on their faces. I take that as an invitation to keep right on going.
“Ever since you found out that Lincoln and I can have kids, you’ve been acting super-weird again.”
Connor stiffens his shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean.”
That does it. Now that I’ve started speaking my mind, the torrent of rage I’d been holding back comes a-rolling out. I march over to Connor and poke him in the chest. He drops his éclair to the floor, and I take that as a small victory. “What does Acca have on you? Pictures of you doing it with a goat? Your balls in some kind of plus-three vise of magical obedience? Because whatever it is, you need to move on. This thing between Lincoln and me? It’s happening.”
“Be reasonable, Myla.” Octavia gently guides me away from Connor. “We love the idea of the two of you being married. That said, the thrax are still mourning the loss of Lady Adair. She was almost Lincoln’s fiancé, too, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I mean for the words to come out with venom, but they’re said in a soft conciliatory tone. Lincoln’s mom is an expert at turning any conversation around. I still have the vague sense that I’m in the right here. I can’t quite remember why, though.
“You must give our people time to get to know you,” adds Octavia. “Once they do, I’m certain they’ll adore you and your marriage.”
Lincoln sets his arm around my shoulders. It’s a protective move that I value very much. “Myla is the great scala. The thrax should be kneeling at her feet. The only reason they hesitate is Aldred. He’s using blackmail to poison their minds.”
Connor sets his fists on his hips. “That’s quite enough. We need to be honest here as well.”
Octavia pales. “Connor, you said you’d wait until after the wedding.”
“I did. However, it seems the children want to air things now.” Connor rounds on me. “Three months ago, you pulled out the souls from our entire nobility. Their spirits hovered over their heads. Yes, that action got rid of Adair and Armageddon, but it scared our people half to death. You’re a demon. In Antrum. Yanking out their souls. And they are demon fighters. Now, you want to marry my son and you expect them to be thrilled about that fact? There are bound to be repercussions.”
Every line of Lincoln’s body firms with determination as he steps between Connor and me. “Show some respect. Myla saved Antrum that day.”
Octavia shakes her head. “That may be. Sadly, all our nobles saw was one demon interacting with another.”
They see Armageddon and me…as equals? Possibly even allies?