<h4>Chapter 37: No Energy for Meredith Tonight</h4>


    <strong><i>Draven.</i></strong>


    Xamira’s voice rang out at the table like a dropped spoon in a quiet room.


    "Daddy, who is this woman?"


    I didn’t flinch. I had grown used to her questions—curious, honest, asionally too sharp for her age. It was just how she was.


    She had always had a talent for asking exactly what most adults were too afraid to voice. Still, this one earned her a few shocked stares.


    From the corner of my eye, I caught Meredith stiffen. She didn’t lift her gaze from her te, but her jaw had paused mid-chew. Jeffery’s fork hovered awkwardly in the air. Wanda, of course, looked pleased—her lips twitching with amusement as she covered a stifledugh behind her hand.


    I turned my attention to Xamira and gave her the only answer that made sense in her world.


    "She’s my wife," I said inly.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Meredith frown.


    I didn’t like saying it. I never had. But there was no point in giving Xamira half-truths she wouldn’t understand. At her age, <i>’wife’</i> was an easierbel to grasp than <i>’political arrangement.’</i>


    And I wasn’t about to exin the intricacies of sacrificial unions and cursed bloodlines over sweet pork and rice.


    Xamira’s brows knitted together. "Your wife? You married her? In a church?"


    I nodded. "Sort of."


    That would satisfy her—for now. She had seen enough weddings in Duskmoor to associate marriage with white dresses and pews. If I said no, I would be here all night exining Stormveil traditions.


    I didn’t have the patience for that.


    For a minute, the table returned to its quiet rhythm, cutlery scraping tes again.


    Then, because she was never done, Xamira asked the next question, lifting her gaze to mine, lips pursed in a thoughtful little pout.


    "You won’t make me call her ’Mummy,’ right?"


    Time paused. Even the mes in the chandelier seemed to still.


    I didn’t need to look to know how the room responded. Meredith wentpletely still again, but this time her expression didn’t betray her. She just kept eating like she hadn’t heard a thing. Jeffery blinked and lowered his fork. Wanda’s shoulders shook slightly from suppressedughter.


    But Xamira’s eyes stayed on me. Waiting.


    "No, I won’t, pumpkin," I said gently.


    I reached for the tter of stir-fried sweet pork and ced another serving on her te. "Eat up."


    She beamed. "Thank you, Daddy." And just like that, the moment passed.


    I looked across at Meredith. Her expression was unreadable, her posture calm. She chewed with deliberate focus, as if she had already filed away what just happened and moved on.


    Xamira was slow to warm to new people. She always had been. But that wasn’t my concern. I wouldn’t force either of them into some picture-perfect fantasy. If Meredith wanted a ce in Xamira’s world, she had to earn it on her own. I wasn’t going to interfere.


    Rhovan stirred in the back of my mind, his voice a low rumble.


    <i>"Talk to our mate. Bring her closer. She is ours."</i>


    I shut him down immediately.


    <i>"Stop with the delusions. I’m eating."</i>


    Rhovan growled lightly, but I silenced him.


    I have to address this issue of Meredith being our mateter, but not tonight. Not at the table, with Xamira or anyone else nearby.


    I turned my attention back to Meredith. She was still chewing slowly. Still focused.


    Her te looked barely touched. A third of the food gone—no more. She wasn’t really eating. She was stalling.


    I leaned back slightly.


    She had defied Wanda without blinking and sat where she pleased. It didn’t bother me—yet. I didn’t care where she sat or how she ate as long as she remained civil and kept her temper in check.


    But the truth remained: I married her for a purpose. And whether she liked it or not, that purpose meant surviving long enough to fulfill it.


    I couldn’t let her ruin the n I had crafted after thinking of a solution for years.


    If I left her to her own devices, she would self-destruct.


    Five minutes passed, then Meredith ced her napkin on the table, stood, and spoke quietly.


    "Excuse me."


    And she walked out.


    No permission asked. No second nce. Just gone like the wind. But I didn’t stop her.


    I could have. But I already knew what that would earn me—sharp words and sharper eyes. She didn’t respond well to confrontation most times, and frankly, I didn’t have the patience for her temper tonight.


    Across the table, Wanda tensed, watching Meredith leave with her maidservants. Her lips parted. I didn’t need to hear what she was about to say—I knew her tone before it even left her mouth.


    "Wanda," I said calmly.


    She snapped her gaze to me, blinked, and slowly leaned back in her seat. Her mouth closed. A breath left her nose. Then she picked up her cutlery again.


    I didn’t want tension tonight and raised voices in front of Xamira.


    After a beat of quiet, I asked, "Which room did you give her?"


    Wanda looked up, surprised. "The one with the patio and the flower wall on the ground floor."


    My brows furrowed. That room was for visiting rtives.


    "Why?"


    Wanda’s polished tone didn’t falter, but her smile dropped half a notch. "She is from Moonstone Pack, and they tend to prefer gardens and herbs. I thought she might enjoy growing something there if she gets bored."


    I exhaled slowly. That was a good point, though I didn’t expect it from her.


    I let it go with a nod and finished thest bite of rice.


    When I stood, Xamira looked up with bright, expectant eyes. "Daddy, will you read me a story tonight?"


    I ruffled her hair. "I have some important calls to make."


    Her little shoulders dropped, just slightly.


    But Wanda stepped in—delicate, smiling, soothing. "How about I read your favourite story instead? Regina and the Bee?"


    Xamira’s face lit up immediately, then she turned to me, arms stretched. "Good night, Daddy!"


    I leaned down and gave her a gentle hug, careful not to hold her too tightly in my arms.


    Jeffery trailed after me as I left the room. My mind was already shifting—calls, meetings, politics. And, I thought about phoning my brother.


    He hadn’t shown up for dinner, which meant he hadn’t finished the task I had assigned to him, and I needed to speak with him before tomorrow’s meeting with the Mayor.


    ----------


    <strong><i>(APPRECIATION NOTE: Thank you, Radiant_Melody for the Magic Castle.</i> ~**_**~).</strong>