Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X, #1)(123)

“Maj,” she said, pausing to kiss Mae on each cheek. “How lovely to see you.”

There was no warmth in the greeting or in Mae’s answering one. “Mother, this is Dr. Justin March and Tessa Cruz.”

At a glance, Justin knew this was no time for, “Mother? Really? I would’ve guessed sister.” He opted for pleasant—but not too pleasant—formality. “Mrs. Koskinen, thank you for your hospitality.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Tessa, a bit cowed by this introduction to the castal aristocracy.

Astrid frowned. “Could you repeat that?”

“I said ‘thank you,’” repeated Tessa more loudly.

“Ah. Well, I could hardly turn down the opportunity to host Maj.”

“You shouldn’t have gone to any trouble,” said Mae.

“Come,” said Astrid, ignoring her. “Everyone’s seated for dinner. Normally we eat at seven.” There was an accusatory note in her voice. An old-fashioned grandfather clock proclaimed that it was 7:10. “Thank you for dressing up, Dr. March, Miss Cruz.”

She was absolutely serious, the unspoken message being that Mae had not dressed up. He’d worn a navy suit and silk tie, typical for official visits, and Tessa had impulsively put on a dress purchased on her outing today. Meanwhile, Mae was in black slacks and a green tank top. It was elegant and refined, like everything else she wore, but he supposed it might have been considered casual next to Astrid’s calf-length taffeta dress. Though he scoffed at Cynthia’s “label whore” accusations, Justin had made a quick study of the fashion trends he’d missed in exile. It was a leftover habit from when he was younger and had tried to hide his lower-class background. Mae was at the height of style, as always, even when casual. Her mother’s dress was from last year. A small detail, but notable among castals.

He wasn’t entirely sure who “everyone” was. Astrid led them to a dining room with heavy wainscoting and wallpaper adorned with a swirling blue design. Two women and two men sat at a long table, along with a boy a little older than Quentin. All had the blond hair and blue or green eyes typical of their caste. Erratic signs of Cain marked the group, and Mae stood out from them like some star in a cloudy sky. If not for scattered shared features, Justin wouldn’t have guessed they were related.

Introductions named the other guests as Mae’s siblings and their spouses. The boy, Mae’s nephew, went by his Nordic name, Niklis. Aside from Mae’s mother, everyone else used a Latin or Greek name from the National Registry, which was telling. It suggested they were more progressive. Maybe they were, but one thing soon became clear: They hated Mae.

Maybe “hated” was too strong. “Resented” might have been more accurate.

It wasn’t so obvious at first. Everyone was so, so polite. A written transcript would have shown nothing untoward, but listening to it in person was a different matter. Every comment contained a barb for Mae and occasionally Justin and Tessa as well.

“Well, Mae,” said her sister, Claudia. “It was nice of you to come by. I know Mom appreciates it. I know she especially appreciates you bringing your friends.” She peered over at Tessa as the housekeeper set down chipped bowls of yellow pea soup. “Do you guys use silverware in the provinces?”

“Of course they do,” said Mae, the outrageous question breaking even her composure. “For goodness’ sake, Claudia. She’s from Central America.”

Claudia sniffed at the rebuke. “Well, it’s not like I have that much time to study the provinces.” She fixed her attention on Justin and gave what he suspected was meant to be a seductive smile. “So, Dr. March. What do you and my little sister do together exactly?”

Cyrus and Claudia’s husband snorted in amusement. Astrid blanched. “Claudia!”

“What?” asked Claudia innocently. “I want to know about their work.” She fluttered her eyes at Justin. “A servitor’s life must be fascinating.”

She’s so bitter and jealous of Mae that she can barely sit there, Justin observed.

Can’t you see why? asked Horatio.

Justin could. Claudia was short and dumpy, with none of the beauty and grace of her younger sister. Cain had dulled Claudia’s hair, and judging from the family’s finances, she wasn’t able to afford any treatments. That, and she had the drained look of someone who’d never left her hometown and had little to occupy her time. From the sharp looks she also gave her nephew, Mae wasn’t the only sibling Claudia envied.

She’s jealous of you too, said Horatio. You’re unsuitable by their standards, but you represent another thing Mae has that she doesn’t: dashing, exotic, good-looking.

Are you trying to take me home? Justin asked.

You know what I mean. And look who she’s with.

Justin couldn’t fault that logic either. Claudia’s husband was a lump of a man, with a thick jaw and soup running down his chin. He mostly communicated through grunts. A lowly plebeian might have been preferable to that. In fact, recalling Mae’s story, Claudia did have a thing for plebeians. With her airs, it wasn’t that hard to imagine her giving away a baby to save face. It especially wasn’t hard to imagine Astrid encouraging it.

“My job’s not that interesting,” said Justin, fully in public relations mode. “Mae just comes along to make sure no zealots get out of line. She keeps me safe. You never know what they’ll do.”