Half of Ruby

Chapter 24

Ember stumbled down the stairs, fingers stretched white as they clutched the railing. 

Do you love him? 

What benefit would you get from marrying him? 

The questions sent shivers through her spine, as though someone was breathing down her back. 

She halted at the entrance to the dining room. I can't go face them. I can't face Abigail's dark, hating eyes, nor Thomas' cold, calculating gaze. I can't face Betty's sneer, nor Susannah's silence. 

"Mother, why are we having cornmeal today? We had such good fare yesterday for lunch." 

Ember shrunk back into the frame as she saw Elizabeth fire a glare at Betty. "We all eat cornmeal, Betty." 

"But cornmeal is the bread of peasants." 

"And dirt and air the food of the poorest. Which one would you rather eat?" 

Betty grumbled and turned back to her food, stabbing her cornbread with a clink of fork on plate. 

Ember lurched in the doorway. 

"Actually, Auntie," said Abigail, cold black eyes gleaming, "dirt and air is the food of witches." 

Ember drew back from the passageway, heart hammering as she slid against the wall. I can't go in there. And I'm still in my nightgown. 

"Be careful of what you say, dear cousin." 

Ronan's voice resonated through the room, low and ominous. 

"Oh? Are you supporting witches, now? And where is the witch you intend to marry?" 

Ember leaned towards the doorway, catching a glimpse of Abigail and Ronan. They leaned towards across the table, fists clutching their knives and forks, glaring at each other in a silent battle of will. 

"Children," said Elizabeth, voice forced, strangled. With a rush of pity and admiration, Ember realized how hard it must be to hide your identity from your own family. "Let's calm down. Eat." 

Silence. And then Abigail and Ronan sat back down, silverware on the table. The unsteady clinking of silverware and the chewing of cornmeal resumed. 

Ember took a deep breath and entered the dining room. 

"Good morning," she said. 

Silence. Fear raced through Ember as, for a moment, everyone's eyes save Abigail's fell upon her. 

Hostility from Betty. Coldness from Thomas. Fear from Susannah. Worry from Elizabeth. 

And from Ronan...defiance? 

No, that wasn't it. It was...

...a mixture of bravery, loyalty, stubbornness, and...was that pride? 

And, for just a moment, those hazel eyes flickered with concern.

He cared for her. Reverend Parris was right.  

"Good morning, Ember," said Elizabeth. "Nice to have you join us. Please, sit down." 

Ember nodded, rushing over to the seat she'd occupied yesterday. She sat down, eyes flickering over to Ronan, who had taken an avid interest in his plate. 

Nobody spoke. 

She turned to her food. A slice of cornbread, a warm glass of milk, a gleaming scarlet apple, so dark it resembled blood, a shelled boiled egg. 

With a scrape of silverware against porcelain, Ember sliced her cornbread into halves. And then quarters. Eighths. Eyes still focused on the plate, she nibbled on a piece of the bread.