The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (popular e readers txt) 📗

the left was a dining table with six chairs, all simple but well-crafted. Two pitchers of drink sat in the center, beaded with condensation. Above his head, Lucian noted a loft accessible by a short ladder, and another room leading off from the main family area. Fergus was right that this was one of the larger homes in Kiro.

Once Lucian was seated, Julia looked at her husband. “Kieron, dear, please see to setting the table. Lucian, it’ll only be a moment until dinner is ready.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Julia’s cheeks colored as she looked upward toward the loft. “Morgana! Where are your manners? We have a guest. Come keep him company while I finish up dinner.”

“Yes, Mother. I’m still getting ready.”

Lucian shifted in his seat, hoping the encounter with Morgana would not be as awkward as it was last night. He heard the floor creaking from the loft above, and then Morgana climbed down the ladder, wearing a pink skirt and red blouse with a large red ribbon in her dark hair. She skipped the last few rungs, landing neatly on the floor. Lucian stood, not sure of the mannerisms of this place, but it was better to be safe.

When she turned, her face was made-up, and her eyes smoky and holding a curious gleam that caught his attention. She strode toward him confidently, offering a hand. Lucian took it, wondering if he were supposed to kiss it or something.

“My stars, Morgana,” Julia said. “You look so lovely!”

“Well, you said to get ready, Mother, so I did.” She looked at Lucian. “Hello, Lucian.”

“Morgana. It’s . . . nice to see you.”

Her eyes sparkled even more as she took her hand away. “Well, I don’t want anyone to say our hospitality is . . . wanting.”

Julia looked from Morgana to Lucian for a moment. “I . . . think I’ll see to the bread. You two catch up.”

Lucian almost told her to stay, but she was gone before he could get a word out. But by this time, Kieron was done readying the table and came to stand by Lucian. Maybe he could rein Morgana in, but Lucian wasn’t holding out much hope.

“I have to say,” Kieron said, jovially, “Captain Fergus has warmed up to you a lot! And I can see why, after your heroics today. I’m glad you’re on our side, especially with what folks are saying.”

“What do you mean, what folks are saying?” Morgana asked, her expression at once becoming pouty. “You know I don’t like being in the dark, Father.”

At this moment, Julia returned from outside with the dinner rolls. Lucian supposed that was where the oven was.

“Morgana, behave yourself,” she said.

Lucian wondered how she knew her daughter was being unruly with just one look. But perhaps unruliness was Morgana’s default. “Lucian, why don’t you have a seat at the table? Kieron, take his boots. Morgana, get the washing bowl.”

Morgana sighed. “Yes, Mother.”

As she stalked off into the back room, Julia shook her head.

“Something has gotten into her lately,” Julia said. “She’s usually much more agreeable. Please, Lucian, have a seat. Dinner is ready.”

Lucian sat at the table and tried to ignore the following awkwardness. If he could have had his way, he’d be eating alone in his hut, but for now, he’d have to survive this.

Morgana returned and offered the wash bowl, steeped with some small white flowers, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes which had a tingle of violet. Had her eyes always been that color? Lucian was too flummoxed to remember.

He washed his hands quickly while Morgana smirked. She turned just as her parents were heading back. After they had laid the pot on the table, Morgana offered the wash bowl to them both, her face a mask of innocence.

“Thank you, Morgana,” Julia said. “That’s much better.”

“Forgive my earlier rudeness,” she said, including Lucian in the apology. “I know I can be a menace, but I mean well.”

“That she can be,” Kieron said, with a chuckle. “Let’s eat!”

“You spoil her,” Julia said. “Morgana, please fill the cups. But not the mystika, that is for your father to serve.” She looked at Lucian. “It’s his own brew.”

Morgana served Lucian first, standing almost directly behind him as she reached over and filled his cup. She brushed his shin with her foot as she walked around the table, so lightly that it might have been an accident. She was growing bolder.

She next filled her parents’ cups with tea before filling her own. Kieron served Lucian some stew, which was filled with meat and root vegetables. When Morgana took her seat, she scooted her chair closer to Lucian and gave him a warm smile. He wondered how soon he might get out of here. He was already starting to think of excuses.

“Before we begin,” Kieron said, reaching for the other pitcher, “some of my mystika, in recognition of Lucian’s bravery today.” He poured out four shots of the drink. “You bring honor to our family and our table by being here.”

Lucian cleared his throat. “The honor is mine, Kieron.”

They drank, and the sweet drink burned Lucian’s throat and settled warm in his stomach.

It was quiet again as they all took their first bites of stew. The meat was tough and stringy, though the stew had done some work to soften it, while the flavor was good and savory. The vegetables were mostly familiar – potatoes, chopped-up beets, leeks, onions, with a few other things he didn’t recognize.

“It’s delicious,” Lucian said.

Julia smiled, pleased. “It isn’t much, but thank you, Lucian.”

“They are already rationing the community larders,” Kieron put in. “They say a slave party will be making its way up the Deeprift in just a few days.”

“Good thing we’ll have Lucian to protect us,” Morgana said, lightly touching his knee. Lucian jerked his leg away, doing his best to keep his face neutral.

“Didn’t you hear, dear?” Julia asked. “Lucian will be gone for the next few days, hunting wyverns with Fergus and Cleon. It’s important we have enough