Heir to Jotunheim | ✔

Chapter Twenty Three

~Cleopatra's POV~

"No."

"But-"

"She's not coming back in this house again."

"Maybe we need to listen to her..."

I glared at my reflection, skimming my hands down the dress I'd chosen to wear for little Billy's not-quite christening.

Jamie and Dad were arguing about Mum. Again.

She'd barely been back in town for a week and she was already breaking our family apart.

I fluffed my hair back, pinning the soft curls into place with a jewelled clip I found in a charity shop last summer. The dress was floating over my hips but the thick boots I was wearing managed to detract from the lace. I didn't want to think about my mother now.

I jogged down the stairs, pulling a smooth blue jacket over my shoulders as I went. I was dressed up and wanted a drink, but I wasn't sure where I'd be sleeping tonight.

"Are you guys coming?"

The two of them emerged from the kitchen, straightening their blazers over their chests, looking slightly disgruntled with one another.

"Who's driving?"

"I am." Jamie whirled his keys around his finger, "Let's go."

We drove in silence. A painful, long silence that made me feel itchy. I planned to confront the situation soon but I wanted to enjoy today at Tyr's.

Dad went to climb out of the car, but I grabbed his hand. "Can we please just be... nice, today?"

Both of them scrunched their face up in similar looks. "We are nice."

"No mention of her." I murmured.

They exchanged a small glance, but nodded. "Okay."

I knocked on the door, fidgeting in the reflection of the window next to it. A curl was sticking upright, and I couldn't figure out how to flatten it without making it look messy.

Dahlia opened the door, her light hair soft and blowing slightly as the wind blew through the door. She pulled each of us into a hug. "Thank you so much for coming today," she gushed, "we have food on the table through here, and drinks if you want some."

Jamie and Dad nudged each other, and with a small laugh they went over to the buffet table, where Freya was entertaining Maya with some breadsticks.

"Cleopatra honey," Dahlia cupped my cheeks, her thumbs skimming over them carefully. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

I smiled weakly, "new foundation," I lied, "Are you okay? I've been hearing stories about Billy."

"He's asleep at the moment thank goodness - I'm fine though sweetheart. I think Tyr is through here with my Dad."

I grinned, "of course! I forgot he would be here."

Dahlia squeezed my hand warmly, "he may look scary but that's just the prison talking. He's a big softie at heart."

Tyr was sat on the sofa, nursing a bottle of weak cider as he laughed at an older man. His wrinkled face showed his age, but there was a youthful glint in his eyes that made him look happy and calm. He caught my eye as Dahlia and I approached, a smile growing across his face.

He stood up as Dahlia gestured to me. "Dad, this is Cleopatra - she helped me with Billy."

He looked so happy I thought he would burst into song. "You're the famous Cleo! My boys date to the golden world!"