help, shoved into skintight shiny suits.
I was thankful for the broad space we were entering. This room was five times the size of the other and boasted an elegant formal dining table with enough chairs surrounding it to seat everyone in the room. Tall white candles twinkled throughout the room and cluttered the table in intentional chaos. Ivory plates sat atop brushed gold chargers and held burgundy cloth napkins. Each place setting was marked with a card with a name scrawled across it.
Assigned seating, great.
I waited and watched the crowd at they moved, as if in a dance, to their respective seats. For the most part, each member of each House sat together. I felt Cyrus adjust his weight to walk and I followed his lead. Quickly, he found our names, conveniently, right next to each other. If I was being honest, I wasn’t exactly heartbroken I had to sit next to the man for the evening. Only curious as to why he and I had been placed together from nearly the moment we’d gotten on the plane. My gut told me this was completely intentional.
Malcolm sat to the left of our group with Tatum between Malcolm and me, thank God. There was obviously a pattern here. I made a mental note to ask Cyrus as many questions as I could about the formalities of the culture when we were alone. Then I thought momentarily about being alone with Cyrus. Then I blushed and thought about something else. Anything else.
The center of the long table was covered in an ivory silk cloth as long as I was tall. Assuming this cloth covered our would-be dinner, I didn’t think too much of it and waited for the next social cue. All the guests lifted their napkins and placed them in their laps; I followed suit. When everyone sat quietly, I did too. I did everything short of breathe in the same cadence just to make sure I didn’t stand out as an outsider. It was odd that I was involved in any of this in the first place. Other than the fact that my best friend was screwing the Primus of the House of whatever, I saw no reason for my ass to be placed uncomfortably in this over-the top seat. But I didn’t complain. Nope. I sat there and shut the fuck up, for once. I’d seen enough of this world that it didn’t shock me anymore. It was intriguing. And frightened me just enough to watch my ass.
The two latex girls came into the room carrying silver platters with many pewter goblets balanced on them. They handed out the drinks one by one and left the room promptly when finished. Without thinking, I lifted my glass to inspect the contents. I was eagerly hoping it was full of some kind of delicious alcohol. Cyrus made a low noise and moved his head in such a slight manner I barely caught his expression. He was telling me to put my glass down and behave. I did.
No one else had lifted their cup. Each member of the group sat motionless in wait of something I was unaware of. One of the white lace ladies, I recognized her as the one who I’d thought was Dominika, stood at her seat and lifted her cup. No one else followed so I didn’t either. At this distance, she really didn’t look that much like Dominika. She didn’t have ‘cunt’ stamped across her face.
“Welcome to all in attendance. My gratitude to every Lord and Lady and the House with which they represent. As Primus of the House of Porte, representing New Orleans, and the Southern Cabal, I embrace you all into our Community. Please, eat as you will, drink freely, and enjoy your stay.” She made eye contact with each of us before moving on, “A toast…” Everyone raised their glasses. “To reverence and mien. To collaboration and distinction. To love…and lust.” The woman in lace tilted her cup toward Cyrus and me. “May the future meet you with life and power until the day your life should cease. Blessed be!” The woman in white lace delicately tilted her cup and drank. Everyone followed a second later, as did I.
The woman sat, but as she did , she lifted her lace-gloved hand and snapped
I was thankful for the broad space we were entering. This room was five times the size of the other and boasted an elegant formal dining table with enough chairs surrounding it to seat everyone in the room. Tall white candles twinkled throughout the room and cluttered the table in intentional chaos. Ivory plates sat atop brushed gold chargers and held burgundy cloth napkins. Each place setting was marked with a card with a name scrawled across it.
Assigned seating, great.
I waited and watched the crowd at they moved, as if in a dance, to their respective seats. For the most part, each member of each House sat together. I felt Cyrus adjust his weight to walk and I followed his lead. Quickly, he found our names, conveniently, right next to each other. If I was being honest, I wasn’t exactly heartbroken I had to sit next to the man for the evening. Only curious as to why he and I had been placed together from nearly the moment we’d gotten on the plane. My gut told me this was completely intentional.
Malcolm sat to the left of our group with Tatum between Malcolm and me, thank God. There was obviously a pattern here. I made a mental note to ask Cyrus as many questions as I could about the formalities of the culture when we were alone. Then I thought momentarily about being alone with Cyrus. Then I blushed and thought about something else. Anything else.
The center of the long table was covered in an ivory silk cloth as long as I was tall. Assuming this cloth covered our would-be dinner, I didn’t think too much of it and waited for the next social cue. All the guests lifted their napkins and placed them in their laps; I followed suit. When everyone sat quietly, I did too. I did everything short of breathe in the same cadence just to make sure I didn’t stand out as an outsider. It was odd that I was involved in any of this in the first place. Other than the fact that my best friend was screwing the Primus of the House of whatever, I saw no reason for my ass to be placed uncomfortably in this over-the top seat. But I didn’t complain. Nope. I sat there and shut the fuck up, for once. I’d seen enough of this world that it didn’t shock me anymore. It was intriguing. And frightened me just enough to watch my ass.
The two latex girls came into the room carrying silver platters with many pewter goblets balanced on them. They handed out the drinks one by one and left the room promptly when finished. Without thinking, I lifted my glass to inspect the contents. I was eagerly hoping it was full of some kind of delicious alcohol. Cyrus made a low noise and moved his head in such a slight manner I barely caught his expression. He was telling me to put my glass down and behave. I did.
No one else had lifted their cup. Each member of the group sat motionless in wait of something I was unaware of. One of the white lace ladies, I recognized her as the one who I’d thought was Dominika, stood at her seat and lifted her cup. No one else followed so I didn’t either. At this distance, she really didn’t look that much like Dominika. She didn’t have ‘cunt’ stamped across her face.
“Welcome to all in attendance. My gratitude to every Lord and Lady and the House with which they represent. As Primus of the House of Porte, representing New Orleans, and the Southern Cabal, I embrace you all into our Community. Please, eat as you will, drink freely, and enjoy your stay.” She made eye contact with each of us before moving on, “A toast…” Everyone raised their glasses. “To reverence and mien. To collaboration and distinction. To love…and lust.” The woman in lace tilted her cup toward Cyrus and me. “May the future meet you with life and power until the day your life should cease. Blessed be!” The woman in white lace delicately tilted her cup and drank. Everyone followed a second later, as did I.
The woman sat, but as she did , she lifted her lace-gloved hand and snapped
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