Chapter 37: No Energy for Meredith Tonight
Draven.
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, occasionally 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 plate, 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 stifled laugh 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 plainly.
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, ’wife’ was an easier label to grasp than ’political arrangement.’
And I wasn’t about to explain the intricacies of sacrificial unions and cursed bloodlines over sweet pork and rice.