Chapter 7 Judgment at the Breakfast Table

Morning light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of the Blue Suite. Athena woke up without the alarm.

She dressed carefully. No more robes. She chose a structured navy shirt-dress. High collar, long sleeves. It screamed authority.

She walked down to the dining room.

It was a long table, fit for twenty people. Caesar sat at the head, a tablet propped up against a crystal pitcher. He was drinking black coffee.

Athena sat at the opposite end, miles away.

Mrs. Potts entered. She placed a plate in front of Caesar: Eggs Benedict, perfectly poached, hollandaise glistening.

Then she walked to Athena and placed a plate down. Two slices of toast, burnt black at the edges, and a glass of milk that looked lukewarm.

Caesar didn't look up from his tablet.

Athena stared at the toast. It was petty. It was childish.

She stood up. She picked up her plate, walked the length of the table, and set it down next to Caesar. She pulled out the chair to his immediate right and sat down.

She reached into the bread basket in front of him and took a fresh, buttery croissant.

Caesar lowered the tablet. He looked at her.

"Mrs. Potts said the toaster malfunctioned," Athena said, tearing a piece of the croissant. "Funny how it only malfunctions for me."

Caesar glanced at the burnt offering on her plate. His eyes narrowed.

"Mrs. Potts," he called out.

The housekeeper hurried in.

"If the chef can't toast bread without burning it, fire him," Caesar said, his voice bored. "And Potts? Deduct half your monthly salary for serving trash at my table."

Mrs. Potts gasped. "Sir, I-"

"Take it away."

A maid rushed to clear the burnt toast, replacing it with a fresh plate of fruit and eggs within seconds.

Derik walked into the room. He looked tense.

"Sir," he said to Caesar. "Mr. Godfrey Madden is at the gate. He's demanding to see his daughter."

Athena's fork paused halfway to her mouth.

Caesar looked at her. He saw the flash of hatred in her eyes before she masked it.

"Let him in," Athena said. "We have some accounting to do."

"Don't let him muddy the carpets," Caesar told Derik.

Five minutes later, Godfrey Madden burst into the dining room. He was sweating, his expensive suit looking a little rumpled.

"Athena! My darling girl!" He opened his arms, rushing toward her.

Athena turned her chair slightly. Godfrey hugged the air.

He stumbled, regaining his balance. He looked at Caesar, shrinking slightly under the younger man's gaze.

"Mr. Williamson," Godfrey nodded nervously. Then he turned back to Athena, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Athena, honey, Daddy's company is in a bit of a tight spot. A cash flow issue. Your dowry... the trust fund... I need you to sign the release."

Athena took a sip of orange juice. "The dowry? You mean the price you sold me for?"

Godfrey laughed nervously. "Sold? Don't be dramatic. It's family supporting family."

The room went silent.