King Cave (Page 52)

To my right, Cahal set his silverware down and pushed his plate away, and asked quietly, “Ms Ruckler, do you happen to know where my son is? I’ve tried to contact him these past few days, and he never returned my phone calls or answered his door.”

I lifted my fork over my shoulder, eyes still on my plate. “He’s in line at the buffet.” I resumed cutting my steak into tiny pieces. No need to explain that I knew exactly where Ezra had been the past few days.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few heads swing toward where I had pointed. I stilled for only a heartbeat, realizing I had probably given away the fact I was so in tune with Ezra’s body, but I went back to eating before anyone noticed my instant reaction. Ezra had acted only as a worried friend during our time in the medical ward, careful of those around him, but if anyone had looked close enough, they would have seen a father losing his children. It was best to be cautious for a little while, just in case.

Elder Merrick swung his large frame back to rights on his chair as I felt several pairs of eyes on me. “That’s one hell of a nose you have.”

My lips lifted as I glanced at him. “Yours is better.” He was the only one who had seen Ezra’s initial reaction. He knew. And yet, he wasn’t blowing whistles. It was another interesting fact about him.

His own lips lifted in recognition that I knew he was something else where scents were involved. “Possibly.” His head tilted, his arm sliding over the back of my chair. “I could teach you what I know if you would care to put in a few hours alone with me.”

I could smell that Ezra was coming closer. Again, it was when Elder Merrick chose to say a double entendre. Casually knocking his arm off the back of my chair, I turned back to my food. “If your offer’s honest, I’ll take you up on it.” I wanted to know how he did what he did. “For teaching.”

He leaned over, his mouth against the shell of my ear. “Oh, I’ll teach you.”

Ezra was now close enough to have heard that. And my knife miraculously found its way under the table, directly against Elder Merrick’s crotch. He stiffened as I turned my head to stare him in the eyes. Instantly, he backed off. I never thought he was stupid.

Taking my knife back, I primly set it on the table and began eating my sliced meat as Ezra and Jack sat in the remaining chairs at the table. Honestly, I was surprised they had sat at this table. I had done it because I knew no one would really bother me, but Jack and Ezra didn’t have that luxury, which was quickly proven.

King Kincaid leaned forward, eyes on Ezra. “You’ve missed your training and punishment duties these past few mornings. Care to explain why you’ve decided to ignore our rules?” A pause, then, “Again?”

Ezra took a large sip of his coffee before gently placing it on the table. “No, I don’t believe I’d care to explain.” He ignored how every Kings’ gaze but King Venclaire’s flashed in instant frustration and irritation, and he picked up his silverware to scoop up corn. “And I’d prefer another punishment.” He chewed slowly, scooting his corn around until he scooped up another spoonful.

King Nelson bristled. “What you prefer has no bearing on your punishment.”

“Fine.” Ezra shrugged. “I won’t care what you prefer, and just won’t go.”

King Venclaire held up his hands when all the Kings’ mouths opened to argue. “I’ve spoken with the day care and they filled Lily’s and his positions when they didn’t show.” He lowered his hands when their mouths finally shut, even if their eyes were still wide in shocked aggravation. Calmly, King Venclaire stated, “They’ll be helping to prepare food of a morning, instead, for their continued punishment.”

I barely stifled my sigh of relief, feeling extremely grateful this time that my biological dad was insightful, knowing who the father of the twins had been, and intelligent enough to decipher we wouldn’t want to be around children.

All of the Kings’ lips pinched tight, but they didn’t argue. Not here, anyway. I could imagine well enough that it would happen in private, though. Normally, they tried to keep their disagreements as quiet as possible.

“Thank you,” I said quietly to King Venclaire.

His lips lifted in a smile, which showed nothing near happiness. “You’re welcome.”

As everyone began finishing their meal, Ezra glanced down the table. “Dad?”

The table’s occupants paused for a moment — Ezra rarely ever called Cahal anything informal and usually addressed him as ‘Elder Zeller’ in front of others — which Ezra noticed, and he instantly rested back on his chair, appearing relaxed. Aloof. The table’s occupants pretended to ignore his small blunder, unfamiliar with how to handle familial relations…well, acting like familial relations…and resumed finishing their last bites.

Cahal set his own coffee down carefully, his eyes meeting his son’s. “Yes?”

Ezra shrugged one shoulder, sipping his coffee. “I thought we might hit the sparring ring later.”

Cahal absently twirled his empty cup on the table. “If you take it easy on me.” His lips quirked.

Ezra chuckled quietly. “Gonna bring the hurt on?”

“As much as you do.”

“Perfect.”

Placing my silverware down as I was done with my meal, I stood, wishing I had a way to relieve my own pent-up energy. But I really didn’t. Turning from the table, King Kincaid stopped me by asking, “What do you have planned today, Lily?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured, shaking my head. I didn’t have a family to lean on, like Ezra, even if the others at the table were not supposed to know that was what he was doing. Jack and Pearl still had their own issues to work out, and I had monopolized too much of their time as it was. They needed to recover from their own loss in healthier ways than dealing with more loss. I had no one. “I’m not sure.”

Rolling my shoulders, I glanced about, realizing that everyone at the table was watching me. I forced my lips to lift into a semblance of a smile. “But I’ll figure it out.” Moving from the table, I kept my gaze away from Ezra and made my way through the crowd.

I was surprised when King Fergus fell into step beside me. I raised my eyebrows in question as I sidestepped someone pushing their seat back. He shrugged, opening the dining room door for me, and murmured quietly, “I’ve been alone for far too long not to recognize loneliness in someone else.” I paused, blinking in surprise at his candidness, then nodded, moving through the exit when he placed his hand at the small of my back — which also surprised me — ushering me through.