Rose Among Thorns

9-mornings

Rose pov:

As Nico and I stand to make our way to the dining room, Theo bursts in, eyes bright. "Did you hear? We have to go eat!" He grins, but then his gaze slides to Nico, narrowing playfully. "And don't even think about becoming her favorite brother," he says, tone half-joking, half-serious.

Nico just raises an eyebrow at him, a faint smirk in place. I can't help but smile, feeling a tiny bit lighter as the three of us walk down the hall.

The dining room, though, feels completely different. There's a strange, heavy tension in the air, and it's as if no one even dares to breathe too loudly. Everyone is seated already, eyes mostly fixed on their plates, avoiding each other's glances. It's as if something would shatter if someone spoke too suddenly. In this silence, I feel like a guest in a place I'm still not sure how to navigate. We all take our seats, and rather than having empty plates waiting, each of us has a prepared serving in front of us. There's a range of food—roast vegetables, some kind of stew, and, at the center of my plate, a small pile of mashed potatoes.

Despite the food set out, no one starts eating. A few of them glance at me, and others shift their gaze to Charles, who seems to be the silent signal for when it's "allowed" to begin. Only when he picks up his fork and takes the first bite does everyone else follow. Next to me, Theo keeps his gaze on me. He leans over, whispering softly, "Hope you like potatoes."

His voice is warm, a little light in the tense quiet. He watches with almost childlike anticipation until I take a bite. Only then does he start eating from his own plate, smiling as he does.

I look down at my plate, grateful that there's a little less food on mine than on the others'. Even so, it still seems like too much. I take small bites, glancing around between each, half expecting someone to stop me. But no one does. Slowly, the weight in the room seems to ease a little, and a few people start speaking in hushed voices, breaking the silence bit by bit.

As I'm chewing, I notice that Luca's hands, resting on the table, are bruised and scraped, with faint traces of blood still visible around his knuckles. Concern rises in me, surprising me a little with its intensity. "What happened to your hands?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended, but the worry clear.

He looks down at his hands, tracing a cut as if only now noticing. "I punched a bit too hard on a punching bag... and a wall," he replies, a wry smile touching his face.

For the rest of dinner, things stay mostly calm. I manage to eat about half of my plate, grateful when no one forces me to finish. Plates are stacked up when we're done, and Owen—who I recognize now as the man who helped bring the food in earlier—collects them all, carrying them away with practiced ease.

Theo turns to me, his grin reappearing as if he's been waiting all night to say what comes next. "I, Theo, will now give you the best tour of this house that you have ever seen," he declares, hand on his heart, his other arm sweeping theatrically in the air.

Playing along, I mimic his stance, placing my hand over my heart and lifting my other arm. "And I, Rose, gladly accept this best tour of my life."

He laughs, grabbing my hand to lead me to the main hallway, his enthusiasm infectious. He shows me every corner of the house, from the library with floor-to-ceiling shelves of books to the cozy cinema room. There's even a game room stocked with more consoles and board games than I could count. I'm speechless as we move through each space, discovering not one but two gyms and even an indoor and outdoor pool.

When we reach the kitchen, it's pristine, all stainless steel and marble countertops, gleaming and open, inviting in a way I hadn't expected. "Could I...bake here sometime?" I ask hesitantly, the idea both exciting and strange, like maybe I shouldn't even be asking.