Forbidden Flames

Chapted Thirty Three

Entering the study room, I found it enveloped in darkness, the curtains tightly drawn. My father occupied his customary place at the end of the table, his presence as imposing as ever.

"August, come sit down," he barked, his voice a commanding force. I complied, taking a seat beside him and remaining silent as he flipped through his book. "Any new leads?" he inquired, his tone devoid of emotion.

"Roland is still searching, but I suspect someone inside was aiding them," I confessed, prompting him to drop his pen and fix his gaze upon me.

Our eyes met, and he paused, contemplating my words. "Your mother's brother is an imbecile. I instructed him to conduct background checks, but, naturally, he disregards the counsel of an ancient man," he grumbled.

"It's not Uncle's fault," I countered, though he shot me a disapproving glance.

"You've lingered there for too long. I warned you it was perilous, yet you paid no heed," he bellowed, causing my mind to fog. Another lengthy lecture on why his methods reign supreme was imminent. I never heeded them, as his suggestions were not always optimal.

"I simply got caught up," I murmured, reluctant to delve into specifics.

"If you had listened to me, you wouldn't have sustained injuries, nor would a bounty adorn your head. You and Roland are utter fools," he declared, prompting me to tune him out.

"Thank you for the reminder," I retorted sarcastically, eliciting a sharp glare from him.

"I've already cast a spell to locate some of these men. Once their whereabouts are known, I'll dispatch them to an early grave," he proclaimed, his voice dripping with grim resolve.

He could be so aggressive at times. I harbored no desire for vengeance or bloodshed. I've conveyed to him that one individual orchestrates this, and it traces back to him, but, naturally, I'm mistaken.

"There's no need for that. I propose we capture one and subject them to interrogation," I suggested, though he disagreed vehemently.

"Your mother could have perished, August. You were nearly lost... These men warrant nothing less than hell," he concluded, rising abruptly and slamming his book shut.

Sighing, I reclined in my chair, exasperated by his obstinacy. Revenge wasn't a panacea, and as much as I yearned for the demise of those responsible, it wasn't conducive to obtaining answers.

The door creaked open, and Maximus entered nonchalantly. "Miss Belle requests your presence for dinner," he announced.

My father muttered to himself, still harboring resentment toward me, as we descended downstairs. Upon entering the dining room, he assumed his place at the head of the table as the doors swung open.

My mother entered carrying a sizable pot of soup, and my father promptly rose to assist her in placing it on the table.

"Dear, I've got it," she chuckled.

"It's hot, Belle," he grumbled, carefully setting it down.

Lilith entered next, bearing other bowls of food. My father fixed her with a piercing glare, visibly unsettling her.

"This is Lilith, a friend of August's," my mother introduced, to which my father nodded before resuming his seat.

With everything arranged, Lilith settled beside me as we began to fill our bowls.

"It's been ages since I've had a companion in the kitchen. I'd forgotten how delightful it is," my mother remarked, ladling soup into her bowl.

"You're an exceptional cook, Miss Belle," Lilith complimented.

"How do you and August know each other?" my father interjected, the atmosphere turning somber as his intense gaze remained fixed on her.

Lilith cleared her throat before responding, "I'm best friends with Colette and Cassian. August has always been a guardian to me."

I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks at her words, quickly diverting my attention to my dinner. My father nodded, his eyes flitting between Lilith and me.

"He inherits that from his father," my mother chimed in, offering Lilith a warm smile. My father remained silent for the remainder of the evening, while my mother and Lilith engaged in lively conversation.

The two shared many similarities, which came as no surprise. I always anticipated Lilith would bond with my mother—they both possessed spontaneity and outspokenness. Moreover, external guests were a rarity, so my mother relished in hosting good company.

"How long have you and Colette been friends?" my father inquired, though it sounded more like an interrogation.

"About 15 years now," Lilith replied casually, earning a nod from him.

"The girls met at the academy Marie sent the twins to," my mother provided some context.

Lilith smiled, savoring another spoonful of soup. I rested my hand on her thigh, sensing her tension from the abrupt line of questioning.

"How did you two meet?" she directed her inquiry toward me, causing me to cough loudly, caught off guard.

Amidst my mother's laughter, she wiped away tears, remarking, "Nobody has asked me that in years."

"It's a lengthy tale, but to summarize, I was tasked with collecting my father's debt. Honestly, August's father was quite disagreeable towards me," Lilith recounted.

My father rolled his eyes, evidently poised to interject. "Dear, I've already apologized for that, and you weren't a saint either," he groaned.

"Nevertheless, we initially held disdain for each other. However, over time, this place became a haven, and I found myself interested with the cranky man," Lilith concluded, her words resonating with me as I hung onto every detail.

Dinner concluded swiftly, and I ventured into the kitchen to assist Lilith with the dishes. As I began to scrub and dry, she eyed me, jesting, "I can manage this on my own, you know. It's a rare sight to witness men doing dishes."

Chuckling, I acknowledged my peculiarity. "My grandmother Louise always said, 'If you partake in the meal, you must participate in the cleanup,'" I reminisced, fondly recalling childhood memories.

"She was a wise woman," Lilith murmured as we completed our task.