~Edward
The moment we sat down and the silver clatter of cutlery began echoing around the room, I could feel it—the weight of my mother’s glare. She sat poised at the far end of the table, her fingers wrapped delicately around a teacup as if she hadn’t already burnt holes through my skull with her eyes.
I didn’t even flinch.
Instead, I smiled. Wide. Annoyingly pleasant.
I knew she hated that.
Let her simmer in her royal rage. She wanted a Luna for my coronation, and I brought her one. A beautiful, strong, grounded woman who hadn’t bat an eye despite the coldest welcome possible. What was their damn problem now?
Beside me, Ava sat stiffly. Her back was straight, hands in her lap. Her eyes tried not to wander but I saw her sneak a glance at Lila, who had been stirring her tea for three
