In the Shadow of Secrets | Sebastian Sallow

WARNING: Pregnancy talk and meddling relatives, sick/dying grandfather, implied/referenced prostitution, and just general pureblood politics and shenanigans

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The last time I had been in the grand hall, it had been set up for the wedding. Now, a long table and chairs filled it. Evergreen wrapped intricately between polished silver candlesticks, the candles in them and floating above us casting a warm glow throughout the room. White and red roses adorned the evergreen on the table and around the room, along with ribbon and sugar plums, and the first course of soup was already at each place setting. There were twelve of us for dinner–Marie-Jeanne would be fed by house elves in the Lestrange nursery.

The place cards had my grandfather at the head of the table with my aunt at his right hand. I was on his other side–his insistence, apparently–with Sebastian to my right. The rest of the seating arrangements were rather straightforward, with Rolf beside his wife, Ingolf beside his father and Esther beside her brother. Rangvald, Sr., was at the opposite end of the table with his wife and son. Sebastian tensed when he read the name card beside his, and it didn't take long to realise why, as Antoine Rosier took his place beside my husband, next to his wife.

I knew it was unlikely whoever arranged the seating knew of Sebastian's distaste for the other man, but it was set to be a long supper because of it. Though his presence was steady beside me, the tension came off of him in waves.

I chose to focus on my oyster soup, but the minute I had sat down at the table, I'd lost my appetite. I ended up swirling my spoon around, hoping no one would notice I had yet to take a bite. I breathed a sigh of relief when the roast goose, potatoes, parsnips, and sprouts replaced the first course–which I picked at, eating just enough that no one asked questions.

"Quite the spread, Elizabeth," Sebastian commented lightly, reaching for his goblet of wine. "I must say, between my wife and yourself, I am quite well fed these days."

Elizabeth preened a bit. "Well, we must keep our husbands happy, mustn't we?"

Sebastian shot me an amused glance. "Well, I believe I can count myself among the happy ones."

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop the bubble of laughter. He was most certainly not talking about food.

Elizabeth's smile softened, though her eyes still showed the usual calculation. "It's good to see marriage suiting my niece so well. Not everyone adapts so quickly–and supporting a husband with such a demanding career does not make it easy!"

"It has been an adjustment," I admitted, looking up at my husband and squeezing his hand below the table, "but we make do, I think."

"That is good, dear." She flashed her teeth before taking a sip of wine.

My grandfather descended into a slight coughing fit, his mouth covered with a handkerchief as his shoulders trembled from the effort. I reached for him in concern as Sebastian leaned forward almost instinctively.

"Grandfather?" I asked softly.

Elizabeth reached for his arm, patting it gently. "It's just the weather," she announced to the room. "He's been fighting off a slight chill is all."

Faustus waved both of us away weakly, insisting hoarsely, "Nothing to fuss over."

Sebastian didn't seem convinced and continued to lean forward, watching my grandfather with a calculating yet concerned look. "That cough does sound quite troublesome. I know a few excellent healers who may be able to help..."

"Sebastian's sister was very ill some years ago," I explained. "He's no stranger to needing specialised care."

Elizabeth's eyes shifted between us, and her voice was a bit sharp when she replied, "While we appreciate the offer, I am certain it is merely the season. Would you like me to fix you a tonic after supper, Faustus?"