“If by fed you mean some leaves and a piece of cardboard masquerading as chicken breast, then yes, she fed me. She’s seriously awful. I mean, she almost makes you look nice.”

He chuckles at that, then sets his hand on my lower back and guides me to the long dining table set only for two. At least she’s not eating with us. He pulls out my seat. I sit down on the plush chair and drop my napkin into my lap. He takes the seat at the head of the table, and as if the staff have been waiting and watching, they appear out of a door in the wall that must be for the staff like they used to be in old days.

We’re silent as the dishes are laid out, and Antonia describes what everything is. I think there’s enough to feed two dozen people, but I can probably eat for at least two of those people, so I won’t complain.

“Thank you, Antonia. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you, M—sir.”

After a man opens the bottle of wine and Santiago approves, they’re gone, and Santiago begins to heap food on my plate. He doesn’t ask what I want. He just gives me a generous serving of meat, potatoes, and vegetables along with bread and butter.

“It’s a little pretentious to have them call you Master, isn’t it?”

He takes a moment to set his napkin on his lap. “Just be grateful I don’t require it of you.”

“I wouldn’t ever call anyone that.”

“Would you like to test that theory?”

When I don’t answer, he raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to acknowledge his win.

“No.”

“Then learn when to keep your mouth shut, darling.”

I grit my teeth so hard I’m pretty sure I’m going to crack a tooth.

He finally shifts his attention to the bottle of wine and pours himself a glass. I see the ring on his hand then and recognize it for what it is. I’ve seen it before but hadn’t had a point of reference. Now, with having seen his mark on my neck, I realize it’s his family crest.

“Do you all have that?” I ask, remembering seeing a ring on Holton’s finger but not on the doctor’s.

He follows my gaze to his ring and nods. “Sovereign families. Males only.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t think a woman would be allowed such an honor.” I put the accent on honor, and I’m sure he hears my sarcasm, but I don’t wait for him to comment. I pick up my glass, which is already full, and take a sip as he sips his. I raise my eyebrows.

“Juice?”

He nods, then sets his wine down.