wine had been decanted to breathe and now two staffers transferred food from the cart to the table.
I’d ordered individual dinners because my siblings were a bunch of damn picky eaters. Bianca ate meat, but she preferred fish, while Benedict couldn’t stomach “anything with fins.” Luckily, the kitchen maintained a list of each person’s favorite meals.
Each dinner arrived in an elegant silver thermoregulator. The chefs figured thermoreg time into their cooking schedule, so the meal was hot and ready at the appropriate time. It gave the staff time to set up the meal and leave before guests arrived.
A young woman in a House uniform set a vase of fresh-cut flowers in the middle of the table. “Do you need anything else, Lady Ada?” she asked.
“It looks lovely, thank you.”
She bowed and the staff withdrew. My brother and sister would arrive in a little over five minutes, which gave me just enough time to deliver Loch’s dinner. I checked the labels but I needn’t have bothered—the staff laid out the table exactly as I requested.
I picked up Loch’s dinner and place setting. What do you know, waitressing skills came in handy when you had to balance too many things on too few arms.
Loch raised an eyebrow when I eased into the room. “Need a hand?” he asked.
“It’ll be easier if you grab the thermoreg, thanks,” I said as I neared. He stood and took it, then set it on the nightstand. I put the rest of his cutlery beside it.
“You ordered me dinner,” he said, a strange inflection in his voice.
“Oh, well, you don’t have to eat it. As I said before—”
He touched my jaw and brushed his thumb over my lips. “Thank you, Ada.”
I smiled and kissed his palm. “You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy it. Give it fifteen minutes or so to finish cooking.”
The doorbell rang before he could respond. Of course Benedict and Bianca were going to be on time. “Your dinner guests are at the door,” Didi said.
“Let them in,” I said. They knew their way around my suite and would make themselves at home until I joined them.
“Go,” Loch said. When I hesitated, he turned me toward the door and smacked my butt with a grin. I blew him a kiss over my shoulder.
Time to face the twins.
Bianca and Benedict stood at the kitchen bar. Benedict sniffed a bottle of clear alcohol with a grimace. “Do you think this is still good?” he asked Bianca as he held the bottle up to the light.
“You’re the connoisseur, not me,” she said with a shrug.
Benedict looked down to frown at her and caught sight of me. “Ada!” he cried.
He and Bianca shared the same long face, sharp nose, and light brown hair that they’d inherited from Father. Bianca softened her look with careful makeup and hair dye, but Benedict embraced the stamp of familial legacy. Standing together, it would be immediately obvious that they were related, as it would be for any of my four older siblings. I’d felt like an odd duck with the dark hair and golden skin I’d inherited from Mother, at least until my little sister Catarina was born—she looked just like me.
Benedict had let his wavy hair grow out some since the last time I’d seen him. He smiled as he came around the bar. He squeezed me in a tight hug then leaned back until my feet left the ground. He was the tallest sibling, and Bianca constantly grouched that he’d stolen all of her height.
“Hello, Benedict,” I said with a laugh. “I missed you, too.”
Benedict put me back on my feet, then held me out at arm’s length. “Are you okay? We’ve been worried about you,” he said. “I recently heard a crazy rumor that you’d fought off fifteen mercs with a spoon. Can you believe that?”
“Well . . .” I hedged. I hadn’t actually fought the mercenaries with a spoon. I’d distracted them then ran away, narrowly escaping. It had happened on the station before the one where Captain Pearson had picked me up.
Benedict turned outraged eyes to Bianca. “Did you know about this?”
“Who do you think started the rumor?” she asked with a grin.
“My sisters are going to be the death of me,” Benedict muttered to himself. “I don’t care if your alcohol has gone bad, I need a drink.” He squeezed my shoulders then let me go and moved back to the bar. “Let me know if you want something other than the usual.”
“The usual is awesome,” I