Chapter 10: A Mother at the Gate

Odile Penhallow arrived at the gate of the Marshal's town house at nine in the morning with a lawyer, a hamper, and her favorite son.

Idris watched them from the upstairs window with a piece of toast in his hand.

"They brought a hamper," he said.

"A hamper is an offensive weapon," said the shade, at his shoulder.

"It's an apology hamper."

"Then it is the worst-timed apology in the history of the Empire."

The shade's outline was clearer this morning, nearly as solid as the body.

The body stood at the door of the room with its hands at its sides and its eyes fixed on Idris's back.

"I will go down and stand in front of her. You can eat."

"We'll both go down," Idris said.

"Idris," the shade warned.

"I want to see what's in the hamper."

He went down, with the shade on his left and the body on his right and the wolf pacing in front.

The servants in the hall made a lane for them and stared.

The Marshal's husband stopped on the front step.

"Mother," he said.

"Idris, my dear."

Odile put her hands out.

She was in dove grey, and she looked ten years older than she had at the dinner table, and her eyes were wet.

"I have come to take you home. You haven't been well. You can't have been."

She wrung her gloves.

"Such a strain, a marriage like this, and the hearing, and an Omega's first heat with no one to help you..."

"I had help," Idris said.

"Of a kind," said Odile. "With a man who can't speak."

Her gaze flicked over the body at his side, and flinched.

"Dear, you must see how it looks. We were too hasty."

She went on faster.

"The doctors say a flat test at sixteen can be mistaken. There's talk of a new test, and Marius has agreed to come forward, so..."

Marius stood a step behind her in a pale blue coat.

He did not look happy.

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