Back to the dinner...
"Whether you like me or not... whether you want me here or not, I am already a member of this family. And you will not look down on me." Her voice rang confidently despite the existential screaming in her brain.
What if she was making a mistake?
This wasn't just any family. This was THE family! She was playing with fire.
The silence that followed was deafening—until a low, amused chuckle broke through. Rich, smooth, and unnervingly confident.
Her head snapped toward the source, and her blood froze. Hades was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, looking as though he had just wandered into the most entertaining soap opera of the year.
How long had he been standing there?
The others around the table visibly stiffened. Even Van's chirpy demeanor shifted into something more wary. The atmosphere turned frigid as though everyone was bracing for an apocalypse that had just walked through the door.
"Don't stop on my account," Hades drawled, his voice lazy yet dripping with quiet authority as he sauntered toward the table. His dark eyes locked onto Alice.
She is quiet.
Reserved.
Only book smart.
A pushover.
Obedient.
Alice couldn't read his gaze, and her pulse skittered. Great. He was targeting her now. Perfect.
The Matriarch's carefully composed expression faltered for a split second before she recovered. "Hades," she said in a clipped tone. "You didn't inform us you'd be joining."
"I had no idea I needed an appointment for my own wedding dinner," Hades retorted as he pulled out the empty chair beside Alice and sat down without ceremony.
Dawin sighed, his tone mildly chiding but not hostile. "Do not be rude."
Hades ignored him, leaning back in his chair with an air of utter indifference. "You weren't at my wedding. Or should I say... yours?"
Loud silence...
The Matriarch stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "Enjoy your dinner," she commanded coolly before sweeping out of the room like a queen whose court had displeased her. Betty, ever the faithful shadow, trailed after her, casting Alice a withering glare that Alice mentally deflected with a confident glare.
She wasn't confident. That lady spelled trouble.
Van was next, leaving without so much as a glance. Their aunt rose, her gaze flicking to her children. Wilson followed obediently, all poised elegance. Suzy shrugged and remained seated.
Alice watched the exodus with mounting disbelief.
'He cleared out the room in under five minutes. Is this a superpower? Should I be impressed or terrified?'
Even the maids seemed to be rethinking their life choices as they scuttled away like mice avoiding a cat. Dinner still hadn't been served, and Alice was seriously questioning whether they were importing it from another dimension.
As much as she was starving, she debated leaving too.
Better to eat stale crackers in a closet than endure this weird tension.
But then Hades's dark gaze landed on her, sharp and assessing. "Do you want to leave too?"
There was no malice in his voice, but the undertone made her skin prickle.
She turned to look at him, her inner defiant spirit kicking in. "No."
His lips twitched, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Good."
Suzy laughed awkwardly. "Looks like it's just us, hahaha!"
No one responded. They were all just sitting there in intense silence until Dawin, perhaps out of sheer survival instinct or because he was the Wildfire heir and seemed immune to him, spoke up to break the tension.
"How do you find your apartment? You know, you could have moved into the main mansion. There's enough space for all of us. Be with the family more," Dawin suggested with genuine warmth. "It would make things... smoother."
Hades's response was calm but firm. "I'm comfortable where I am."
Alice's head snapped toward him, curiosity bubbling up despite herself. "Wait—you don't live here?"
She didn't mean to sound so delighted, but it slipped out before she could stop it.
Wait a minute... or should she be mad that her supposed husband ditched her here with his family to go live elsewhere?
Hades raised a brow. "You seem... excited."
Alice cleared her throat, trying to tamp down her rising glee. "No, I was just... uninformed."
She bit her lip, desperately trying not to smile. The thought of having an entire mansion without him brooding in every corner was oddly comforting.
Ah, I can totally survive one year of this. Easy-peasy.
"Hehehe"
She let out a laugh unconsciously, and all eyes turned to her. Fixed.
She instantly realized what she had done and opened her mouth to explain, tell a lie or whatever, but nothing came out.
All three seemed to be regarding her with suspicion. Thankfully, dinner rolled in.
A long cart wheeled in by four women who moved like frightened mice, their footsteps timid as though the floor might bite back. Plates clattered softly, and one maid accidentally rattled a dish, her face immediately contorting in terror as if she expected a public execution on the spot.
The maids began serving dinner with trembling hands. Plates piled high with perfectly cooked steaks, glistening with juices, were elegantly placed in front of the others.
Her stomach growled quietly. Surely her plate would be next—a juicy steak, perhaps with a side of roasted potatoes and rich gravy. The type she saw in the movies. Eating the food the Wildfires ate...
Her plate was set down.
Salad.
Just... salad. A sad mountain of green leaves, suspicious sprouts, and vegetables that looked like they'd been yanked out of the garden in a fit of rage. Perched mockingly on top was a perky little radish slice that seemed to whisper, 'Welcome to your doom.'
Alice blinked.
"No... meat?" she muttered under her breath, eyes darting around the table like a predator denied its rightful prey.
The server flinched, bowing so low it looked like she might kiss the floor. "We were informed you're a vegetarian, Second Lady. Did we... make a mistake?" Her eyes flickered nervously toward Hades, as if awaiting his judgment for this possible blunder.
Alice's brain flatlined.
VEGE...TARIAN!?
AH!
How did she forget that? Pricillia had informed her. But she had thought...
She hadn't expected...
Her brain stopped functioning at this point and she closed her eyes.
The server was still waiting for an answer. Everyone else was still looking at her.
She was Aurora.
Alice forced a radiant, pageant-winning smile onto her face—the kind that masked homicidal thoughts. "Of course not! I was just... testing you." She gestured dramatically at the plate. "To see if you'd forgotten my, um, passionate stance against... animal cruelty. Ha ha ha!" Her laugh sounded slightly unhinged, even to her own ears.
The server's shoulders relaxed as if she'd just been granted a royal pardon. "We would never forget that, Second Lady."
They would never forget that.
The words echoed in Alice's mind.
She gave the server a shaky smile.
Alice stared at the lettuce with the same expression one might reserve for an ex showing up at their wedding. It tasted like... her life.
Bland. A disaster.
"Enjoying your meal?" Suzy asked in a bid to make small talks in the awfully quiet room.
Meal? What the hell does that even mean? How could this pile of leaf debris be called a meal?
"Loving it," Alice gritted out through a tight smile. "I can't get enough of these delicious... leaves." She stabbed a piece of lettuce with enough force to question the structural integrity of the table.
Suzy, ever curious, tilted her head. "How long have you been vegetarian?"
Alice's eye twitched. Aurora had definitely eaten meat when they were kids. So when had she suddenly decided to become...
Alice sighed.
"A long time ago," Alice said vaguely, channeling her inner diplomat. "Veggies are... wonderful." Her voice wavered as she imagined swiping Suzy's steak and bolting for the door.
"You must really love animals." Suzy added.
Alice blinked at him, her composure teetering on the edge. "I do," she said solemnly. "They're delicious."
Silence.
Even the server bringing in the dessert froze mid-step, eyes wide with horror.
Alice's brain did a somersault. "I mean—" she scrambled. "They're precious. Absolutely precious creatures. I'd never dream of eating one." She punctuated the statement by stabbing a cherry tomato with enough aggression to send it flying off her plate.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught it—a faint twitch at the corner of Hades' mouth. Was he... amused?
Great. Now even the dark lord of doom was silently mocking her.
As the others resumed eating, Alice resigned herself to fate, chewing on a bitter leaf with the enthusiasm of someone gnawing through cardboard.
One year, Alice. You can survive this. Just... don't die from malnutrition.