“Bennett isn’t a slave any longer. As I said—”

“What you said is preposterous. Have you lost your bloody mind? We are Gods, Max. We don’t teach mortals. We feed on them.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you and I were once mortals, too.”

“That was over a hundred years ago, and in case you’ve forgotten, we were the sons of nobles. Not children of swine farmers. She is to leave this table and leave it right now.”

“No,” Max barked. “She stays here. Bennett is my guest, just as you and your people are my guests. And this table is set for a feast, Simeon, so put your bruised ego aside long enough so we can all enjoy it. Sit, my friend. I promise. She doesn’t bite.”

Simeon glowered at Bennett, trying hard to erase his first impression of the woman and replace it with another. He failed.

Simeon had never seen the need for women to powder their faces or hair, turning them into something ghostly and false, so Bennett’s natural complexion had pleased him. Her high cheekbones and long, velvety lashes had caught his eye as well, as did her shining raven-black hair. Instead of having it piled high and filled with a hodgepodge of hairpins or having it braided and wrapped around her head like a snake, Bennett’s thick, long tresses were tied loosely with a simple ribbon, and most of her waist-length mane was draped over one shoulder. Her dress was simple. There were no lace edges on the pale green brocade, and the white blouse underneath, with its gathered neckline, kept the bodice modest, much to Simeon’s dismay.

Simeon scrubbed his hand over his face, casting a glance down the table to his entourage, who were all warily looking back at him. Most had their forks at the ready, but none would take another bite until their master made up his mind.

Simeon and his entourage had spent the better part of three weeks encased in pine boxes during the day. At night, Simeon’s coachmen, mortals paid handsomely for their service, would open the coffins so all inside could feed and stretch their legs, and when the sun broke over the horizon, they’d be locked back inside again. The last thing Simeon wanted was to crawl back into that goddamned box, and by the drawn look on his peoples’ faces, while they would do what he wanted, they were dreading it just as much.

“Fine,” Simeon said, dropping back into his chair. “But she moves where you are. I don’t want to smell her stench.”

Max flicked his eyes upward and got to his feet. “Bennett, it seems a change in our seating arrangement is required. Do you mind?”

“Not at all, Max,” Bennett said quietly. “Not at all.”

Bennett swapped seats with Max, and before she was settled, a servant flew over to switch around their table settings and goblets.