Emily sat on the sofa, feeling out of place. Caleb moved to sit next to her, but a sharp look from his mother sent him hurrying to a small armchair. Emily felt her cheeks heat – again – as Frieda sat down, her face expressionless. Emily knew her well enough to realize she was nervous. She was even more out of place in the house than Emily herself.
She took a glass from Karan – a fruit juice, she thought – and waited. No one seemed inclined to start the conversation, not even Marian. She’d definitely changed. Had Casper’s death affected her that badly? Perhaps it had…Casper had been a bit of a bully to Caleb, but he might have treated his younger sisters better.
“I hear the railway line is being extended again,” Caleb said, into the silence. “Is it now going all the way to Thornwood?”
“That’s the plan,” Karan said. “My friends and I rode the railway all the way to Cockatrice.” She looked at Emily. “They named a locomotive after you.”
“Emily the Tank Engine.” Emily smiled, even though she knew no one else would get the joke. “I haven’t seen the station for nearly a year.”
“They’ve expanded it,” Karan said. She gave Emily a guileless smile. “We had a few hours in Cockatrice before we rode back to the city. Your castle is very impressive.”
“I believe we will be discussing your formal position later.” Sienna’s voice was cool. “Until then…”
Marian leaned forward. “Jan was saying that he got a five for ten deal on notes,” she said, quickly. “I was thinking…”
Her mother skewered her with a glance. “No.”
“Mother, it will pay off,” Marian insisted. “Everyone says…”
“And if everyone were to jump off a cliff,” Sienna asked sharply, “would you jump too?”
Emily glanced at Caleb, silently asking him what was going on. Caleb shrugged. Whatever it was, it was clear that Sienna objected to it. And that she would not be moved. Marian’s pleas and protests fell on deaf ears. Emily was mildly surprised that Marian hadn’t been sent to her room for cheek. Her pleas grew more and more frantic.
She looked up as the door opened, breathing a sigh of relief as General Pollack entered. He was followed by a young man who looked very much like Casper, save for his obvious youth and unscarred face. Croce, Emily guessed. Caleb’s younger brother. Caleb, Karan and Marian rose to greet their father; Emily rose a second later, remembering the etiquette lessons that had been drilled into her at school. General Pollack was, at least in theory, the master of his household. Emily rather doubted that his wife paid much attention to conventional wisdom. She was a power in her own right.
“Welcome home,” Sienna said. Her voice was very formal. She hadn’t moved from the armchair. “I greet you, husband.”
“I greet you, wife,” General Pollack returned. His voice was equally formal, but there was a warmth in it that made Emily smile. They loved each other. “We have much to discuss.”
“Indeed we do.” Sienna rose. “Shall we eat?”
Emily felt her stomach rumble as Sienna led the way into the dining room. It was larger than she’d expected, large enough to make her wonder if someone had been experimenting with expansion charms. There were ways to make one’s house bigger on the inside, but without the vast power of a nexus point they tended not to last long. Emily wouldn’t have cared to trust her safety to a pocket dimension that didn’t have an inexhaustible source of power.
“Take a seat.” Sienna’s lips crinkled into a humorless smile. “I think we can forget about the formalities, can’t we?”
“Of course, my dear,” General Pollack said. “Emily, please take a seat.”
Emily sat and watched as the two girls hurried into the kitchen to fetch dinner. Had they cooked it? A wealthy family like Caleb’s would probably be expected to hire servants, but the house was small and sorcerers liked their privacy. And yet…she found the idea of Sienna – or her young daughters – doing all the cooking and cleaning to be a little unbelievable. Perhaps the servants were merely expected to remain out of sight at all times.
A tasty smell wafted up from the tureen as Marian put it down in front of her father and removed the lid. It was a fish stew, the fish heads clearly visible within the white sauce. Emily was surprised to see the bowl of cooked rice that accompanied it, although rice was fairly common at Whitehall. It might not grow anywhere near the city, but the combination of shipping lanes and preservation spells would allow merchants to bring it from the other side of the continent. The meal might look simple, yet it was – in many ways – an understated display of wealth. Only the richest citizens would be able to afford rice.
General Pollack served Emily and Frieda first, then his wife and children. Emily reached for her spoon, then stopped herself, remembering that etiquette forbade her from eating until everyone was served. Caleb, sitting opposite her, gave her a reassuring smile. Emily smiled back, wishing they were alone. They’d taken picnics into the mountains at Whitehall, back before the war, back before everything had changed…
“Please, tuck in,” General Pollack said. He picked up the tureen and moved it to the center of the table. “Take more if you wish.”
“Thank you, Father,” Caleb said.
Emily picked up her spoon and took a sip of stew. It tasted strong, stronger than she’d expected. And yet, the more she ate, the more she grew to like it. The blandness of the rice and boiled vegetables complimented the fish nicely. It was definitely better than most of the food she’d eaten during the war.
“So,” Sienna said, holding up her spoon as though it was a knife. “What happened?”
Emily glanced at General Pollack, who shrugged. “My wife can hear everything,” he said, dryly. “You can speak freely.”
In front of two impressionable kids, Emily thought.
Sienna snorted. “Emily,” she said. “What happened to my son?”
Emily forced herself to look back at her. “The necromancer killed him,” she said. “He…he was blown to dust.”