Chapter 57
Chapter 57:
Aurora was seated directly opposite Elias.
Dinner was served—a roasted lamb with mint reduction. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware against china. Aurora ate with mechanical precision. Her back was straight, her elbows tucked in. She cut a small piece of meat, lifted it to her lips, and chewed slowly. The emerald bracelet on her wrist caught the candlelight, flashing green fire.
Elias found himself watching it.
He wasn’t eating. His knife hovered over his plate. He watched the way the platinum chain rested against the delicate bones of her wrist. He noticed how her composure was absolute, a fortress of ice that mirrored his own. She wasn’t the trembling girl Sterling described. She was steel wrapped in silk. He realized, with a sudden jolt of discomfort, that he had been staring at her hand for a full minute.
He looked down at his plate and cut into his steak with sudden, excessive force.
Screech.
The knife slipped, dragging across the fine bone china with a sound like a dying violin. It was loud, piercing, and utterly uncharacteristic for a man of his breeding. The table went silent. Everyone stopped eating.
Sterling looked up, startled. “Uncle Elias p>
Elias stared at the scratch on his plate. His ears felt hot. A rare, faint pink tinge crept up his neck.
“Apologies,” Elias muttered. “The knife is… dull p>
Sterling smirked, leaning back in his chair. He caught Ashley’s eye and winked. See? He’s furious she’s here. He’s taking it out on the china.
Aurora looked up. She met Elias’s gaze across the centerpiece of white lilies.
For a second, the masks slipped. She didn’t see anger in his eyes. She saw intensity. She saw a curiosity that was sharp and probing.
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She looked away quickly, her own heart skipping a beat. Why was he looking at her like that?
The dinner dragged on for another hour. When the final course was cleared, Aurora stood up immediately.
“Thank you for the meal, Beatrice,” she said, bending down to kiss the old woman’s cheek. “It was lovely. But I must go. I have work p>
“On a Saturday night?” Sterling scoffed. “Still pretending to have a career, Aurora? Or are you just running back to your little apartment before the carriage turns into a pumpkin p>
Aurora ignored him and walked toward the hallway.
Sterling scrambled up, throwing his napkin onto the table. He followed her, catching up to her near the front door. He blocked her path, planting a hand on the wall beside her head.
“Don’t think Grandma’s jewelry buys you a ticket back to me,” Sterling said, his voice dripping with condescension. “I know why you’re here. You want me to see you. You want me to be jealous p>
Aurora looked at his hand on the wall, then up at his face. Her expression was bored.
“I’m not looking for a ticket to the Titanic, Sterling,” she said dryly. “I prefer vessels that stay afloat p>
Sterling blinked, confused by the metaphor.
“You’re sinking,” she clarified. “And I’m already on the lifeboat p>