A tremor of fear seized Emmett's gut, but his face remained calm. The Baron's eyes bore into him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His mind raced, searching for an excuse, a way to deflect the inevitable confrontation. He felt Corbin shift next to him, the tension in the air was palpable.
Corbin, who was still trying to piece together the events, knew only one thing for certain: they were in deep trouble.
Just then, the study door opened further and Carolyn stepped out, a bewildered look on her face. Her hand went to her mouth when she saw Emmett.
"Emmett? What are you doing here? I thought you were getting ready for dinner."
Corbin, ever the quick thinker, stepped forward.
"We were just... hoping to have a word with the Baron, ma'am. We didn't want to disturb him if he was busy."
The Baron's voice was a low growl.
"A word? You would have knocked. You would have waited. Instead, you were huddled by my door, whispering like thieves in the night."
His gaze sharpened.
"Were you eavesdropping?"
Emmett's mind went blank. How could he possibly counter that? Even Corbin, usually so composed, had no response. His silence was deafening.
The Baron's eyes narrowed to slits.
"I see. So you were eavesdropping."
His hand slipped slowly into his coat, the fabric straining around his knuckles.
"I despise people who can't mind their own business. It is a sign of disrespect, a lack of discipline..."
His hand slowly reached for the gun in his coat.
"Calvin, please."
Carolyn's voice was a whisper of panic.
"They're just boys. They didn't mean any harm, I'm sure."
She stepped between them, her body a fragile barrier.
"Please, for my sake?"
The Baron's hand stilled.
"Very well."
Carolyn turned to them, her large eyes filled with a plea.
"You two are good boys, just promise me you won't tell anyone about this, about what you heard, will you?"
Emmett stared at her, dumbfounded. Corbin said nothing. From behind his wife, the Baron's eyes bored into them, a demonic promise of a pain more terrible than anything they had ever felt.
Emmett found his voice first.
"We promise."
"We won't tell anyone,"
Corbin added, his voice flat.
"Now get lost,"
the Baron said, his hand retracting from his coat. The cold fury in his eyes had returned.
They turned and walked away, the silence between them heavy. As they reached the end of the hall, Emmett glanced back. The Baron and his wife had re-entered the study, the heavy door swinging shut behind them, presumably to continue their conversation.
"You're not good at lying, Emmett,"
Corbin said bluntly, breaking the silence.
"So tell me, what were you really doing at the Baron's study door?"
Emmett continued walking, his expression neutral.
"I was there to meet with the Baron."
Corbin stopped and looked at him.
"That explanation is a lie, Emmett. We have established that already."
"That's the only one you'll get,"
Emmett replied, stopping and looking him straight in the eyes. The conversation was over.
Corbin sighed, the sound of exasperation.
"Fine. But I'm not letting this go."
They entered the dining hall to find the rest of their companions already seated. Felix and Rhys were at one side of the long mahogany table, the twins at the other, their expressions a mix of boredom and disdain. Beatrice sat next to the twins, her hands resting in her lap, a quiet figure in her wheelchair.
Emmett and Corbin took their seats.
"Where's Briar?"
Corbin asked, scanning the room.
Theta scoffed, the sound a sharp, unpleasant one.
"With the cripple, probably."
Felix's fork clattered against his plate.
"Theta, that's completely uncalled for. You know better than to say things like that."
Theta's cold gaze met his.
"And what do you know? You don't know why I said it, so don't act like you do."
"Then why did you?"
Corbin interjected, his voice calm and measured.
Eta leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Corbin.
"You're supposed to be so smart, right, Corbin? So why don't you figure it out? Why did the Baron bring us here for supper tonight? We always eat in the kitchen in our quarters. Do you really think he's that generous, after all we've been through?"
Corbin leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful frown on his face.
"His wife and daughter arrived. Perhaps he's trying to show them that he's taking good care of us."
"And if that's the case,"
Rhys said, nodding in agreement,
"does that really justify being rude to a girl in a wheelchair? I mean, she didn't do anything to you."
"Rhys has a point,"
Corbin said.
"I mean, look at Beatrice. She's in a wheelchair too, and you don't make fun of her."
He shot a glance at Beatrice, who flinched slightly, her gaze dropping to her lap. Corbin's words seemed to pierce her, making her shrink in on herself.
The twins' eyes flashed with sudden, raw fury.
"At least she wasn't born useless!"
Eta spat out, her voice tight with rage.
"Her condition isn't permanent!"
The heavy oak doors of the dining hall opened and the bickering stopped instantly. The Baron entered, his wife on his arm, and they took their seats at the head of the table. A moment later, Cecilia wheeled herself in, Briar walking beside her, their faces wreathed in soft smiles as they chatted. They joined the table and supper began.
The Baron and Carolyn were animated, their conversation light. Briar and Cecilia were the same, their laughter echoing in the silent room. The others, however, were silent. The twins in particular looked like they were barely holding in a tide of resentment, their eyes fixed on Cecilia with an intensity that was almost frightening. Emmett, for his part, ate quietly, but his eyes kept darting to the twins. He understood their dislike for Cecilia—he shared it—but he couldn't comprehend the depth of their hatred.
Cecilia, perhaps trying to break the heavy silence, turned to Felix.
"Did you have a good day?"
she asked, her voice soft and hopeful.
Felix gave a short, polite nod.
"Yes, thank you."
He didn't elaborate.
She turned to Corbin, who simply ignored her, continuing to eat his food with a stoic indifference.
Rhys, ever the compassionate one, gave her a small, encouraging smile.
"It was... uneventful. But good."
"That's good,"
she said, before turning her attention to Emmett.
He met her gaze for a single, long second before turning away, his expression indifferent.
Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she turned to the twins.
"Eta, Theta? Are you enjoying your meal?"
The twins dropped their forks onto their plates with a loud, clattering sound. They rose curtly, their chairs scraping against the polished floor.
"We've lost our appetite,"
Theta said, her voice like ice.
All eyes turned to them. Cecilia's expression was a mixture of alarm and hurt.
"What's wrong? Why are you leaving?"
The twins didn't answer. They simply turned and walked out of the room, leaving an awkward silence in the dining hall.
A moment later, Emmett pushed back his own chair.
"I've lost my appetite too."
He didn't bother to look at anyone. He just left.
Corbin followed suit, then Felix, and finally, Rhys. Soon, only the Baron, his wife, Briar, and a deeply-troubled Cecilia remained at the table.
The group of seven gathered in their quarters of the manor, slumping into the couches in the living area.
"This is so much better than the North Wing of the lab,"
Eta said, sinking into the cushions of a plush sofa.
"I'm so tired of that place."
Corbin looked at her from his chair.
"You haven't explained why you walked out of a perfectly good meal."
Eta looked at him, a ghost of a smile on her face.
"Why did you, Corbin? You also left."
Corbin simply raised an eyebrow in response.
"Fair enough."
Emmett's gaze, however, was fixed on the Theta.
"Why do you two hate Cecilia so much?"
Theta sighed, the sound a weary release of air.
"We can't tell you. The Baron made us promise not to say anything... at least for now."
She shrugged, a small, dismissive gesture.
"Just forget about it."
But Emmett couldn't. His mind was still racing, putting together the pieces, trying to connect the dots. The twins' animosity, the Baron's mysterious secret... It all swirled together in his head.
A sudden knock on the door made everyone jump. Felix opened it, and Briar stood there, her face unreadable.
"The Baron wants a word with all of us."