Fuck, it was so difficult to have a simple conversation with this dude. “Okay. You coming, then?” Tyler prompted, taking a step back.
Roman stood up, and Tyler almost sighed in relief, eager to see how Roman interacted with others.
The dining room was bustling, but at least it was emptier than during lunch, what with a lot of people eating with their families at home once the working day was over. Roman still froze at the entryway, his gaze a little manic as he took everything in.
Tyler felt a little guilty about springing this on him, but it had to happen sooner or later, and Roman could have introduced himself when it was calmer in the almost-week he’d been in the house.
Connie’s eyes lit up as she saw the two of them—she was a people person through-and-through. “Hey! Come on over,” she demanded.
Tyler rolled his eyes but gestured to Roman, seating him next to Connie, himself on Roman’s other side.
Connie narrowed her eyes playfully at Tyler. “Wow, coming right after the tables are set. What a way to avoid work.”
Tyler snorted. “Yeah, because I do nothing around here. All you do is play with horses all day.”
“Excuse me, these are healing hands.” She reached past Roman to wiggle her fingers in Tyler’s face, laughing when he shoved them away.
“I don’t want to know where they’ve been,” Tyler protested.
“Inside your butt,” she retorted, turning her attention to Roman before Tyler could do more than squawk in protest. “Hey, I’m Connie. Roman, right?”
Roman was even paler than a minute ago, nodding slightly.
Connie grinned, unperturbed by his silence. “Nice to meet you. So sorry you’ve been stuck with Tyler. Truly, my condolences.”
Roman’s eyes flickered to Tyler, lips parting, but nothing came out.
Tyler scoffed. “Like anybody would be worse than you. Have we all forgotten the time you made like ten kids fall into a lake?”
“That’s a complete misinterpretation of what actually happened. Firstly, it was like two kids,” Connie said loudly.
“It was definitely more than two kids. Oi, Lark. How many kids did Connie almost drown last year?”
Lark peered over from where he had been talking to Cross, his eyebrows raising. “Like ten kids or something.”
Tyler looked at Connie pointedly as she threw her hands in the air.
“It was five, max,” she muttered.
Roman sat through the whole ordeal without even coming close to a smile, staring at his empty plate as if he were above such shenanigans.
From the head of the table, Mama Nai called out, “Dig in.”
Every once in a while, Mama Nai tried to insist that they pick the serving dishes up and pass them in an orderly fashion, but it was impossible to tame the crowd. The natural entropy of mealtimes was a free-for-all in which each person reached for the nearest ladle and spooned mountains of food onto their plate.
It was only when Tyler was about to tuck in that he noticed Roman hadn’t moved to grab any of the food. “Not sure how it worked where you came from, but here we serve ourselves,” he pointed out with a little edge to his voice. He wouldn’t be surprised if Roman’s previous coven was one of those where the higher echelons were served hand and foot all the time.
Connie shot him an annoyed glare as Roman reached for one of the plates, making Tyler give her an exaggerated ‘What?’ expression back, but she just rolled her eyes.
What was Tyler supposed to do—dish Roman’s food out for him just because that was what he was used to?
Roman only grabbed a little of everything, not quite making a face at the food but obviously not particularly happy with the options. He ate slowly, forcing himself to choke it down, and Tyler fought not to say anything.
The food wasn’t a high-class affair, but it was tasty and nutritious, the product of hard work and a lot of passion from the kitchen workers. Tyler couldn’t help but feel his hackles rise at the attitude, but he forced himself to stay silent.
“So…” Connie smiled at Roman. “How are you liking it here so far?”
“Good,” Roman mumbled at his plate.
“Met anybody you’ve gotten along with?”
More of a pause this time. “Everybody I’ve met so far has been helpful,” Roman replied, which was a backwards way of saying ‘no.’ And, fine, Tyler hadn’t been the friendliest version of himself, but it wasn’t like Roman had engaged him in any way.
Connie tried to keep the conversation going, but every answer Roman gave was dry and uninterested; he didn’t even bother to ask any questions himself. It was maddening to see Connie’s smile dampen as the minutes went on until she fell silent too, clearly disappointed in the lack of effort.
The only positive thing about the whole experience was that Roman helped tidy up the tables without being prompted.
“Is that all?” Roman asked.
Tyler managed not to scowl. “Yeah, that’s all. But make it down to dinner at least, okay?”
Roman nodded slightly and disappeared upstairs. Tyler gestured after him, raising his eyebrows at Connie in a, ‘See?’ kind of way. Connie scoffed but didn’t argue.
In the end, maybe Tyler wouldn’t have to convince anybody not to let Roman stay—he’d probably manage that on his own.
CHAPTER TWO
ROMAN
Roman was so, so tired. The last time he’d had a full night’s sleep was the day the legal proceedings had finally ended, when he knew for sure that his father would be stripped of his magic for good and put away. It wasn’t peace, what he had felt then, but just the sort of complete exhaustion that crippled a body when it didn’t have to run anymore.
Of course, those blissful hours of sleep had been a brief reprieve. It hadn’t been long until Roman had been informed that he was going to be shipped off to a new coven, to a new high witch and a new Dom and all the horrors that came with that.
Not for the first time, Roman had wished he had died the night Imber had been raided and shut down. That when his father had looked at him with the knowledge that his own son had betrayed him, he would have thought to stand up to him instead of hiding away.
But Roman had always been a coward. Had always managed, despite the odds, to survive.
Roman fought not to react as the door to the room he was in opened suddenly. From the corner of his eyes, he reassured himself that staying seated was appropriate, Cross and the man sent to take care of him, Lark, remaining in their seats.
The two men who had entered were Doms, the pulse of them scraping against Roman’s sensitive nerves. Archie, High Witch of Roman’s temporary coven, he had met. The other was introduced as Tyler, continuing this place’s habit of only offering first names. Roman wondered if it was a way to trick him into being overly familiar and then punish him for it.
Roman wished he could say that, in the fifteen years since presenting as a sub when he was eleven, he’d learnt how to handle Doms, but they were impossible to figure out in any consistent way. Some liked to give Roman clear rules that were impossible to follow, just to see him fail. Others liked to keep it vague so they could spring something on him he could be admonished for.
Roman had been punished for talking and not talking. For being presumptuous enough to kneel and not anticipating that his place was on his knees at all times. He’d been punished for thinking a Dom wanted one of his shitty meals, and for not knowing that of course dinner had to be made before they were back.