Page 25 of Lovely Deceit

Sir Jarvis nods and then tracks his gaze toward me. “Oliver.”

Eden squeezes my hand again, but I’m too numb to do anything back. I could be in London right now, holed up in my fancy loft in Kensington. Instead, I’m standing in front of a guy in a hooded robe.

And people say the monarchy has weird traditions.

In a way, all I’ve done is exchange one powerful family who only cares about pretenses for another.

“You also tested admirably during the Trials, and we’re pleased to invite you to become a Fledgling in the Knights of Arcadia. Will you accept?”

Suddenly, the flames shift, highlighting his raised, silver brow, and I can’t help but think there’s a far different look on his face now than when he addressed Eden. Hopeful, maybe. Definitely interest.

It makes me sick.

“Yes,” I answer, and the sound of my voice echoes around the chamber, hitting me again and again, and I can’t help but wonder what consequences this will have.

I squeeze Eden’s hand, and we grip one another tightly. I never foresaw this happening when I first met Eden. In my young brain, I was sure she was going to become a polo champion, and I’d train harder and harder, just so I could keep up with her. Never in my innocent mind did I think we’d wind up here, effectively pledging our lives away to a sadistic group of rich, old men.

Honestly, I don’t think it’s going to be enough just to find out who Delilah’s killer is. We might have to dismantle the whole damn group if we ever want to be free of them.

The room is still eerily quiet, even though we’re the last grouping to be recognized. Above us, Sir Jarvis peers at the other men around the circular chamber and says, “Elders, we now have our Fledglings.”

The thunderous applause that storms through the chamber next makes me jump. I haven’t known the Knights to be anything more than aloof assholes, but this is something else. For the first time, the Elders lower their hoods and participate as a group.

A man walks in front of me, moving toward Eden, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s Alistair Astor. She releases my hand when he reaches out for her, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Edie,” he says, smiling. “I was so proud of your sister when she made it this far.” He gathers himself again, gaze locking on her crutches before searching out her face again. “And I’m just as proud of you.” He lets go and cups the side of her face, then leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, lips moving as if he’s saying something but it’s so muffled—and with the clapping still happening all around—I can’t quite make it out.

He steps back, holding a hand out to me. “Oliver. Thank you for taking care of my daughter, and congratulations.”

I shake his hand, and immediately notice how weak his grip is compared to the strength he had before Delilah died.

“Don’t be a stranger. My wife is dying to see you.” He winks at Eden who just rolls her eyes.

Tables are moved into the room, topped with a sparkling bronze liquid that is most likely champagne. Alistair smiles at us both, then turns, grabs a glass from one of the tables, and downs it. Afterward, he disappears into the crowd.

Eden raises her brows before turning to me. There’s no smile on her face, no congratulatory expression whatsoever. Just pure, Eden-like determination.

We’ve gotten this far. Now we have to keep going.

13

Eden

The number of high-profile people who come up to congratulate me is astounding. I’ve met these men throughout the years at different parties and functions, but to see them all in one place, now knowing without a shadow of a doubt that they’re Knights, makes me feel small in the grand scheme of things.

It’s no wonder the Knights act all powerful. They’re an insurmountable barrier to push through, but I’m not one to step down from a fight. I think the whole organization is full of sex-fueled, power-hungry asshats. But I don’t care. I just want to find out who killed my sister. That’s it. Afterward, they can continue to run their male-dominated shitshow, as long as it’s far away from me.

Oliver seems to be a hit, too. All of these well-dressed men come around to shake his hand. He keeps peering at me with a look that says he wishes he was anywhere else but here, and I keep waving back like I don’t understand what he’s trying to say.

Leo and Alaric dispersed the moment everyone applauded, but I’ve seen them around. Alaric, next to his father who looks like an older doppelgänger with darker hair. For someone who doesn’t want to be around me, every time I peer at him, he’s already staring back.

I should just be happy that he showed.

As I hobble by the champagne table a warm hand touches mine. Hot breath hits my neck. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

The erratic beat of my heart evens out when I recognize Oliver’s sultry accent.

“And strong.”

He kisses my neck, and I chuckle. “Is someone all worked up because these men have been feeding his ego?”

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