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Dinner resumed with conversations and wine flowing in equal measure. The food looked and smelled divine and Millicent couldn’t recall when she ate so well. There were a few notable places she attended for meals, usually invited by some well-to-do person who was interested in her work, but she often found the conversations too dull to fully enjoy the mean. And, if she were being honest with herself, she preferred a night in with Chinese take-out watching some crime documentary on Netflix.

Millicent’s eyes wandered to their hostess, Elenore. Given recent events Millicent expected her to freak out. After all how many dinner parties do you host where one of your guests punches the other, even if it is deserved?

Millicent dove into her food, allowing the flavors melt on her tongue. Whatever sauce they had used was amazing. Before she could continue, another instigation rose up with one of the others asking for HP sauce. Millicent didn’t quite know what that was, but she assumed it was a type of steak sauce, like A1. Elenore was clearly not having it though and Millicent had to agree. The food didn’t need additional aid from them.

Millicent eyed Elenore a bit longer, though. Through her work, Millicent prided herself on her ability to read people. It wasn’t actual mind reading, and she wasn’t psychic, but more often than not, people showed what was going on in their minds through their body movements, tics, facial expressions, eye movement, and a bunch of other things we often take for granted.

Millicent sensed this was more than just the use of some sauce. The dinner was gradually getting out of control, and Elenore did not like that one bit. Elenore’s gaze lingered on the other woman, the mousy-looking woman who she briefly saw in the hallway outside her bedroom, and who was now using the same sauce. Elenore tried to hide it, but it was obvious to Millicent, at least, that she was upset at her too. Millicent made a mental note not to get on Elenore’s bad side.

But perhaps she already did.

Millicent returned her attention to the others. She wanted to talk to a few more of them, if for no other reason than to get a sense as to who she would be competing with. Her eyes drew to a gorgeous woman across the table from her. She picked up her glass of wine and held it up in her direction, as a symbol of toasting, before she pressed on. ”Quite the dinner isn’t it? I don’t often enjoy dinner with a show. How are you enjoying things?”

”Oh, I’m enjoying the meal quite well. How about you?” The woman lifted her own cup, matching the toast before taking a sip of the wine, and offered a small smile in return.

”It is delicious, I have never eaten so well. Since I am trying to get to know everyone now, I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Millicent, professional magician. I make it a habit of knowing gorgeous, well-dressed women in my vicinity. Whom do I have the pleasure of enjoying this dinner with?”

”Constance, Constance Monroe. I’m a ballet dancer. A pleasure to meet you, Millicent. Always lovely to make the acquaintance of a fellow performer. Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of seeing one of your shows, but I do not often have the time to take in shows these days.”

Millicent nodded, making further mental notes. A ballet dancer wasn’t what one would normally consider a criminal, though obviously anyone could be anything. Was Constance lying about her? Millicent put a pin in it.

She then turned her attention to the woman next to her. Admiring for the briefest of moments before she spoke up. ”I am so sorry about that before. Well, no I’m not sorry. I mean I am upset it happened, but I didn’t do anything so why am I apologizing. Anyway, i hope you are doing better after all of that. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Millicent. I am a big fan of drag performers. I’ve actually hired a few of them for shows. The crowds love them.”

The woman slowly smiled as she heard Millicent talk about her enjoyment of drag. “Oh!” She gasped, , “A drag fan! Ooh, it's so nice to meet you!” The woman held out her hand, “Ivanna Slay, here to stay. An honor to meet you.”

Millicent fought the urge to immediately like Ivanna. After all, someone here knew her secret. But she took the hand offered and shook it. ”Wonderful to meet you too! Perhaps we can meet up after dinner and talk some more? Over more drinks?” Millicent felt herself get warmer. What the hell was happening to her?

Ivanna smiled bigger. “Ooh, yes!” She looked very happy. “I'd love too, Millicent. Millicent! I love that name. It's giving like…fancy, and…regal, sorta. Or like magical. Very slay.” She smiled at Millicent a few moments before suddenly turning to the food. “Oh! It's gonna get cold. Alright, let's see what's at steak…” Her eyes darted back to Millicent and lingered on her for a moment, as she smiled before trying the food.

Millicent felt herself beam. The cast of characters she had met thus far were varied, interesting, eclectic. Millicent finished her food, enjoying the flavor profile.

But even as she enjoyed, she had to be mindful. Because there was clearly more going on underneath the surface at Chateau La Lune.

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Ivanna set down the wine glass, trying to not let her face show how she knew absolutely nothing about wine. She looked around to see everyone already in conversation. The whole room felt so much calmer now that whatever he was called had been removed. She took another sip of the wine, bracing herself a little better this time. Ivanna wondered if Felix and the other staff would happen to have any of those mango beers she was used to drinking with SuperFetch. She sighed and stared as a plate was set in front of her. She really didn’t want to start thinking of home again.

She looked around. Some of them were being given new cups of wine, dark wine this time, but some, seemingly at random, still had the light wine…no, wait! Not at random!! Not! At! Random!! Ivanna clenched her fists with excitement. She knew this! It was only the people eating the fish who had white wine, because… Never but can’t you listen this once/red wine and fish, you’ll look like a dunce. Ha! Ivanna did know something about wine! And Ivanna’s mom had told her a musical theatre degree wouldn’t prepare her for the ‘real world’. Ivanna knew how many minutes there were in a year, too. She was totally in the right major. She looked around for someone to impress with her knowledge, and found one person looking at her already, the blonde woman seated right next to her.

The woman stumbled through an apology over what that other guy had said before introducing herself as Millicent. Millicent! Ivanna had always loved that name. It gave such a specific vibe. A nice vibe, a vibe this woman definitely had. The woman continued, saying how much she loved drag queens. Wow, this woman, who looked so…cool, and pretty, and, like, put together, seemed to think Ivanna was cool?

Ivanna introduced herself and tried to think of something cool to say. She could comment on the wine maybe, she noticed that Millicent had drank some and still had a normal facial expression. Maybe Millicent actually liked wine. Maybe she was one of those ‘contasoors’ or whatever. Wine talk could be good. Ooh, she should say the thing about the wine and fish? Before Ivanna could decide what to say, Millicent kept talking, inviting Ivanna for drinks after dinner. Ivanna smiled and accepted, gladly. For a moment she’d been worried no one would want to talk to her besides the butler, had hesitations about just spending the whole day in drag among these fancy people, but people around here seemed actually pretty appreciative of drag queens…well. Mostly.

Ivanna heard the clink of forks across the table. Oh, right, she was supposed to be eating. She made a quick steak pun and picked up the utensils. Millicent was smiling. Good, the joke landed…wait, why was she looking at Millicent again? She needed to finish her food. They were probably right about to bring out the next thing. Ivanna forced a smile and a few more sips of wine and started eating the steak…holy crap, it was incredible. It even made the wine taste a little better. Did the chateroo people really get to eat like this all the time? So much better than the steaks Ivanna would get from the dollar store. Ivanna would have no trouble finishing this, she even managed to drink a little more of the red wine. Her guess was that it was a Cabernet, mainly because she didn’t know the names of any other kinds of red wine.

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Constance was listening in to Beatrice's conversation about how the wine paired well with the salad dressing, when the salad places were soon cleared away and the main entrees were brought out. Constance had been looking forward to this, but her smile nearly faltered when she saw what was on the plate in front of her.

Eggplant parmesan was a vegetarian dish, yes, but it was loaded with calories! The breading and oil alone would skyrocket her calorie count for the day, and the cheese, ugh, don't even get her started on the cheese. They probably used something calorie laden to get it nice and golden. Heaven knew what else was in the sauce besides the tomatoes. She had chosen vegetarian because it was suppose to be the safe option, but looking around the table, nothing was safe. Sauce on the steak, sauce on the fish... Then she remembered, this was France. They drowned most of their food in sauces and butter. She had been doomed from the start.

She was jarred from her thoughts by Beatrice once more and her smile resumed at it's normal functionality, never letting on for a moment that anything had crossed her mind about the food. She would just work it off, as she had planned to earlier. She picked up her fork and knife and delicately cut into the parmesan and started to eat.

Constance had to admit to herself, the food was good, and when the handsome older man across from her spoke up, she chimed in to add her two cents, and for her part, she got his name out of it. Tony~ His name was Tony. She also got the promise of maybe interacting with him more later, which did make her happy. That could be one way of working off the calories, if he was so inclined.

The woman a little further down and across from her spoke up and introduced herself and Constance paused for a moment. She had heard of Millicent before, as another entertainer. Magic really wasn't Constance's forte, but she had to admit it had it's place in the entertainment industry.

Constance picked up her wine glass and swirled it for a moment before taking a sip of the lovely red wine. The La Lune's really did know how to make a good wine, and how to pair it with their food. Even if the food was caloric hell for the ballet dancer, she had to admit this was some of the best food she had had in a long time, and so she continued to eat and make small talk.

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For the first time that anyone had noticed, for a brief moment Lena seemed interested in something that was happening. However, she had smiled at the brief moment when Miguel had punched Lawrence, her uncle, her mother’s twin. That had brought her brief joy. Lawrence was high on her list of hated family members. The list of hated family members was quite long. If she thought about it there were precious few that weren’t on the list. Lena went back to her food bored. It did not seem that the woman next to her was interested in computers. “Hack” was such a basic question.

Jeanne, her eyes had gone as wide as saucers, but she did her best to hide her reaction. Focusing on the food being brought out. She had a shit-eating grin on her face during the meal. She snorted when three dishes were brought out for Miguel and tried to keep a straight face during all of his very awkward interactions.

Gabriel sat ramrod straight, eating her food almost mechanically. She sat as far away from Jeanne as possible. Close as possible to the person on her other side. A nominee, a useless, pointless person who was taking a seat from someone who deserved it. This year's nominees were lacking. She only had heard of one of them. Most of them seemed to be performers of some sort. Gabriel hadn’t paid attention to the list, and now she regretted it. Elenore would complain later if Gabriel didn’t try to make some small talk. Had her grandmother put these three men in front of her on purpose? She wondered.

“You’re both YouTube people?” she asked. Her eyes skipped over the man sandwiched between what must have been the most awkward situation of his life. Though he seemed to have forgotten that staring was rude as he looked at the now shirtless man. How Elenore hadn't snapped was beyond Gabriel's comprehension. If it had been just the family, surely one of them would have been reprimanded by now. Gabriel looked over, with just her eyes, at her grandmother. She could see the anger seething there. “I’m surprised that qualifies. Makes me wonder if Grandmother even looked at the nominations this year or if there was such a dearth of options she went with anything that came in, not just the bottom of the barrel.”

Jeanne stiffened beside her cousin. Her face was suddenly hot. “Did you nominate someone? Or hope that someone you thought deserving would fall out of the sky?” She snapped. The family was allowed to nominate. That wasn’t against the rules. It never had been. But the short list was decided by Elenore. Had there been so few nominations that hers had gotten through? Jeanne had to resist looking at Miguel.

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”I am not on YouTube.” Ralph said, somewhat oblivious to the snipiness and interplay between the two cousins. ”I’m a pilot. I don’t know who nominated me or why. The letter was vague about that. Can we find out who nominated us and why?”

“Well, no, technically it is supposed to be private. We don’t want people trying for the award. We want it to happen naturally,” Jeanne answered. Ralph nodded.

”I suppose that makes sense, but I think knowing why someone is up for an award would make it less...odd. I almost didn’t accept. I didn’t know who you all were, like, she said.” He gestured to Rihannon. ”It was all very, uh, suspicious.” Ralph had been very nervous about the whole thing. He still was. Thank goodness, at least Sam seemed like a reasonably normal human, and Miguel was growing on him.

“It’s supposed to be a general award. For up-and-comers. For people who need a little extra attention to become the success we know they are capable of.” Gabriel shrugs. “The community, or if one of us has noticed someone and wants them to succeed. To become the best that they could be. That’s what gets them nominated. Maybe you didn’t do something specific, maybe someone just thought you could use the accolade. Great-Grandfather made sure to pick people who just needed a little something extra—the why is not important. Neither is the who. It is who you are.”

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Miguel said something else in Spanish. Sam didn't know if he was meant to understand it or not. Maybe he was upset that he had taken him up on his offer? One of those scenarios where someone offers just for the sake of being polite but expects the answer to be no. He hated those types of scenarios, he could never pick up on the social cues to get them right. Like if someone offered to pay, why would he then offer? It didn't make any sense, why start an argument for the sake of formality? But now he had two steaks, one half glass of red wine, and an immense amount of awkwardness from the whole interaction. It appeared as though everyone else was too involved in their own conversations to have caught what had happened at their end of the table, that or they were simply too polite to comment on the fact that Miguel just took his shirt off and was handed three plates for dinner. Sam's dining partner, the magician and apparent bathroomate, seemed to have lost interest in him. Perhaps all she truly wanted was an introduction and scolding and that was that.

Sam let out a sigh, his shoulders defaulting slightly at how bad he felt he was doing during all of this. I mean, he didn't punch a family member in the face but…he wasn't exactly winning any points either. The only other person to address him now was a young woman with short soft curled hair. Not quite a bob but definitely very french. He could see her wearing a bright royal blue trench coat and vibrant red bowler hat. Her question felt backhanded, as if he wasn't meant to be there. But…so far Tony was the only odd man out. Well him and Ralph but Sam was more than glad Ralph was here. Besides those two everyone seemed to be a performer of some sort. ”Yeah, I work for YouTube. It's a bit better than working on a production crew in my opinion. I can control everything that happens in my videos, well save for the paranormal anomalies those just happen, but I can also edit my videos to my liking. It's more creative freedom without some big name company looming over you begging for views or content. Part of why TV is dead and YouTube is growing.” He replied with a nonchalant shrug as he cut into his steak.

Gabriele briefly looked like she swallowed a lemon, then said. “My nomination didn't make the short list.”

Sam looked over towards Ralph, nudging him slightly before eyeing the second plate. ”Care to share some of the second steak? I feel it may be a bit too much for me given how many courses there are.” He joked but only slightly as he whispered to him.

“Sure, I'll have some of your meat.” Ralph couldn't help but joke.

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't help to giggle a little at Ralph's jest. Clearly poking fun at the awkward mess that had just happened. He cut halfway down the steak, splitting into two before slicing off a small cube and holding it out for Ralph to bite into, a smile on his face. ”Let me know if it's juicy enough for you Smallville.” He teased back before turning his attention back to Gabrielle. ”Oh. That's a shame, I would've loved to have met someone you nominated. Since they didn't seem to make it, can I know what they did?” The question was innocent enough. Though some could construe it as a snide bite back given her nominees was beaten by not one but two YouTubers that she tried snubbing just moments ago.

“A musician. Cello. Perfection at their fingertips.” Some of the tension left Gabriele and she got a bit of a faraway look in her eyes. Then realized her mistake her body tensed again. She lifted her chin ever so slightly and Sam could see a mark there.


Sam paused for a moment. Noticing the small markings on Gabriele's chin. Something he'd seen from a few others he knew years back. He never had that problem, he didn't care for string instruments. Well…more like they terrified him a bit. Ralph's comment seemed to get lost behind his thoughts as he tried to approach the subject. ”I'm no cellist, but I see you've got a love for string instruments. Which is it? Fiddle? Viol? Violin? I'm more of a Pianist myself. May not be a cello but I could play for you sometime if you guys happen to have a tuned piano.” He said with a smile before popping a small bite of steak into his mouth.

“Violin,” she says. Gabriele looks at him intensely as if trying to figure out how he figured it out. Then her hand goes to her neck, not quite touching the mark there. “We have a piano in the ballroom. Maybe during the ball tomorrow you can play. I'll tell my grandmother.”

”I'll try and get a feel for it later today if I can.” Sam said with a smile that reached his eyes. It'd felt like forever since he last played the piano. He couldn't afford to have a real one in his place, getting them inside a building at all was just a hassle. So he settled for a keyboard he practiced on when he could. Nowhere near the same but…their piano must've been an antique if this place was anything to go by. The sound it must produce… Sam seemed a bit lost in thought for a moment as he continued his meal.

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Millicent had tried to enjoy the rest of the dinner, but things were sort of spiraling beyond control. Granted it probably started when that pompous jackass made a rude comment towards Ivanna and then in reference ot Miguel, which then, of course, led to Miguel decking the man and him leaving in a fit, while everyone else sat there and ate and drank.

This was beyond wild. And no one was saying anything.

If this were any other award-type deal, Millicent was sure the behavior demonstrated here, by multiple people, would surely put them on the lower end of receiving it, if not outright telling them to leave. So what was different about this one?

Millicent overheard the conversation between family members. So nominations were a thing. Anyone in the family could nominate someone but it was the matriarch, Elenore, who ultimately decided who to invite. That sent little pinpricks across Millicent’s skin. It stood to reason then that someone in the family nominated her, which meant they knew who she was and, if the note in her room was any indication, knew more than she ever wanted to admit.

Millicent wondered if the other invitees were in similar situations. Wouldn’t it be just a coincidence if all of them had somethign to hide and all were conveniently invited to this fancy mansion to have their secrets revealed under threat.

Millicent looked over at the one woman, Jeanne, after she spoke to the pilot. ”With all due respect, I think we are past privacy since we are all here and are clearly here for the reason suggested in the invitation, so what harm could there be to know who nominated us?”

Millicent glanced around, trying to use her social deduction skills and pay attention to any body language shifts. If they wouldn’t tell her who nominated her vocally, perhaps they would non-verbally. ”I agree with him, as much as I appreciate the invitation and the time away, it is rather suspicious to have heard very little of this whole thing.”

Jeanne looked down the table glancing at Elenore. She didn't seem to be paying attention to them. “Well, I only know who I nominated anyway. I don't know who nominated you.” She seems to be trying to tell Millicent more than what she could.

Millicent couldn’t read anyone at the moment and that was frustrating. Though was Jeanne implying Elenore nominated her? If so, why? Was she a fan of magic or was there more underneath the surface.

Either way, Elenore shot straight up her suspect list.

She turned her attention to the handsome pilot who expressed some concern over this whole thing. Perhaps he was a kindred spirit in suspicion. ”I am sorry, I never introduced myself to you either. Mllicent. You said you were a pilot?” She tried to hide her tone, but so far it seemed Ralph was the most deserving for career alone. She included herself, as much as she prided herself on her abilities. A magician, a drag queen, and two ghost hunters didn’t seem deserving of a nomination, much less an award.

Ralph took a quick sip of his wine and then reached around Sam to offer a hand for Millicent to shake. ”Hello, I'm Ralph. Yes, I'm a pilot. Pleasure to meet you.”

Millicent shook hands. ”Yes, same. So what do you think about all this? Feel free to be honest. Apparently, we can do no wrong.”

Ralph laughed, ”Apparently anything short of murder. Or using HP sauce. I don't even know what that is.” He leaned back into his chair and tapped his chin thinking. ”Honestly, I'm weirded out by this whole thing. Part of me wishes I had stayed home. But too late. I'm here. Hopefully, that's just nerves and not anything really bad gonna happen.”

Millicent nodded, thankful she had it right. Ralph was suspicious too. She made a note to talk to him more without other ears listening in. ”Yeah, this does give off murder mystery vibes. Ah well.” Millicent returned to her drink, careful about letting anything else slip out.

Thus far she had gotten to know a few of the other nominees and family members. It was a regular smorgasbord of personality types clashing. Surely this many would pop off at some point (punch to the face aside). She was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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Rhiannon finished the meal and set their napkin aside before leaning back in the seat with their glass of wine in hand. All of the patrons seemed to be having conversations here and there, getting to know one another. Rhiannon listened in, preferring to get their information this way. The consensus of the room, as far as they could tell, was that no one knew about this award before tonight or who nominated them.

Rhiannon tapped their finger on the outside of the glass, growing restless from sitting. It wasn't often Rhiannon found themselves in formal settings like this. Dinners consisted of them eating in the studio or running around the apartment doing a million other things at the same time. Rhiannon smiled, thinking about how they might prefer that chaos to this. There was something too secretive about this whole event that seemed less appealing than it did when they got the letter in the mail.

At the time, all Rhiannon wanted was some recognition, some proof that the pain of competing and putting their career above everything else was all worth it. But someone here knew something about them that they weren't supposed to know, and that could be a problem for their career. Rhiannon finished their wine and set the empty goblet on the table before scanning the table up and down on either side.

Who was it?

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Constance was listening to the conversations going on around the table at that point, trying to pick out things that might help her. She did hear a bit about the conversation about how everyone there had been nominated, and that some of them had been nominated by members of the family. Did that mean that someone at that table had nominated her? Whom had done that then? She let her eyes linger around the members of the family left at the table, because she doubted the rude one had been the one to nominate her at all, given that he seemed too interested in booze and 'real women.'

She continued to make small talk with the family members around her, taking bite after bite of her food as she willed herself to not think about it anymore. The wine did go down smoothly, and the taste of the food was excellent. She soon finished her own meal and dabbed her lips clean and set her napkin down, and then gently set her silverware on the plate in such a way to indicate that she was done with her meal. The polite conversation continued around her it seemed, and she made sure to continue to chime in where needed.

The other problem she was beginning to realize with knowing now that someone nominated her was the blackmail. She had tucked that away into the back of her mind since she had finished burning and disposing those photos. Someone here clearly wanted something from her. What was it was the real question. Money? Her to throw this award and not get the prize? It had to be a family member, given the fact the photos were there when they arrived. That had to make sense.

She once more shoved those thoughts down, and took another sip of her wine and looked over to Tony and raised her glass a bit to him. She was still looking forward to possibly talking and maybe more once dinner was over.

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Ivanna let herself check out of conversation for a moment as she ate, trying to keep up and finish before the next dish came out, without commpletly destroying her makeup. Honestly, judging by how un-smudged the glass was, she was at least doing okay at not destroying her lipstick. She'd been tempted to ask for a straw or go get the one she'd brought from her room, (no self-respecting drag queen travels without a straw), but she knew enough to also know that you don't drink wine from a sippy straw...even if you really want too. It would be funny to see the faces of these fancy people if they saw her sipping wine through her bright pink barbie sippy straw, but she also might make a fool of herself in front of the person who's opinion she actually kinda cared about. She took it slow on the wine anyway, since she was apparently going for drinks after this.

She was still surprised someone as cool and sleek as Millicent wanted to spend more time with her. It was nice too. The wine wasn't so bad tasting now. Enjoying her food, Ivanna over heard bits and pieces of conversation. It seemed people all around were a little nervous. But what did they have to be nervous about? Ivanna thought again of the note she'd found in her room. She hoped her hiding place was good enough. Why was everyone else on edge, though? Had something happened? ...Oh shit, did she just overhear the word murder? Well, drag queens had the phrase 'slay', maybe 'murder' was some kind of straight person slang. Ivanna couldn't tell who'd said it. But no one here was gonna actually die. This place was way too fancy for that. Fancy people probably had something else they did instead of dying. Like going into those tubes and freezing. She'd find someone to ask about it later. Ivanna hoped she didn't look weird, just eating and not talking to anyone. Maybe she could go talk to Felix again, what was he up too? Or she could try to make more conversation with Millicent...she'd have to think of something real cool to say though, first. She was a magician, right? Maybe Ivanna could ask her to show off some tricks...Ivanna smiled trying to think of what she was going to say to Millicent later when they got drinks.

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Tony continued enjoying his steak, listening to the conversations he could hear around him. He couldn’t hear the other end of the table super well with all the other conversations happening, but it sounded like the nominees over there had eked out a few more details about the awards. Apparently people could be nominated either by the community - so, anyone? - or by members of the family. Elenore, as the matriarch, seemed to be the sole decision maker regarding who makes the shortlist. As far he was concerned, this only reinforced his previous assumption that she must be aware of the folder that was left on his desk; if she’d spent an appreciable amount of time curating the shortlist of nominees, surely no one would dare risk her wrath if they were caught meddling with a nominee. This still leaves many unanswered questions, though. Is it a coincidence that she put him on the shortlist and they found that information about him, or could it be that he was shortlisted because of it? I am the most qualified nominee, as far as I can tell, but logically it seems unlikely to be a total coincidence, he thought.

Now seemed as good a time as any to try to fish for more clues, but it would have to be done carefully. Tony took a sip of wine then turned his attention to Elenore. ”So, Mrs. La Lune, these awards have been running for many years now. Surely you must have a favorite out of all the previous winners? Perhaps the most successful, or the most charming, or maybe the most unique?” he asked, trying to ease her into some conversation.

Elenore smiled. It was the smile of someone reminiscing. “There was a young girl who was studying to become a librarian. She was quite skilled at repair of ancient manuscripts. She wrote me a letter a couple of years later telling me she had gotten her dream job at the Library of Congress. She had this light in her eyes when talking about books that was impossible to forget.”

Tony smiled politely in return. So her favorite was one who sounds highly qualified, which boded well for him. Although a small part of his mind wondered if he should be trusting anything she says at face value. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he was struggling to think of clever enough ways to ask them without making it obvious what he’s fishing for. ”She does sound quite remarkable. I’m sure there must have been some misses over the years as well? A nominee that didn’t quite live up to expectations, or turned out to be not exactly who you thought they were?” There, that should do it.

“We have had a few that post nomination, post winning, have failed to live up to expectation. This award isn't supposed to stop people from doing what they love. It is meant to give them breathing room to do it. To excel at it. Hire people that they need to improve or take care of things. Whatever the money can do to help them become better at their chosen career. So many have used the money to be lazy, they stopped having drive. They stopped trying to improve.” She clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Hopefully, this year's winner proves they know what to do with the windfall.”

Tony nodded, taking another sip of wine. ”That is some excellent advice, I’m sure we would all do well to remember it,” he replied. In the back of his mind, though, he was cursing. Damn it, that was too indirect.. she went in the total opposite direction from what I wanted. But I couldn’t be any more direct without giving away what I was looking for. I’m not going to get answers by asking… at least, not from her.

He turned his attention to the other nearby family members, participating in whatever small talk came his way. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Constance looking at him, slightly raising her glass to him. He returned the small salute in kind, with a subtle smile. At least there would be something to look forward to tonight.

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Miguel took a sip of his wine, his eyebrows shooting up at Gabrielle’s comments. “Can your grandma even read?”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes slightly at Miguel. “Probably better than you,” she snarks back. At that moment, Felix and the maids started collecting empty plates and bringing out personal plates of cheese.

There were several types of cheese on the plate: hard, soft, and medium cheeses, all at room temperature. That was the best way to serve cheese to appreciate its full-bodied flavor. These were paired with crackers, bread, a little pot of honey, fruits, and nuts. There seemed to be no attention paid to whether people had allergies to such things as lactose or nuts.

Conversations had started to dwindle. Was it because people were enjoying the food, or had they all become so paranoid that they didn't want to risk sharing more information than necessary? The chef, in the other room, certainly hoped and believed it was the former.

Unfortunately, Miguel started to feel ill. It might have been the idea of eating room-temperature cheese that hadn’t been microwaved. It might have been his in-flight meal. Or maybe he had had too much wine and had discovered that the tannins in red wine made him sick. Whatever the cause, he politely excused himself and hurried to his room. Woe to be his bathroom mate.

A new wine was poured for the cheese plate. A resling called "Lune d’Argent". The aroma was fragrant, with notes of ripe peaches, green apples, and citrus blossoms, along with subtle hints of honey. When one takes a sip, it is lightly sweet, slightly dry; the flavor of stone fruits carries through, ending with a vibrant mineral edge that feels sharp and clean.

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Ralph wasn’t sure what to think as the conversation had dwindled. It made him want to squirm in his chair a little. The seating arrangement seemed almost to force the oddness of it all. There had to be a better way to have arranged this group. Between the gap created by the missing members, something he couldn’t fault anyone for failing to plan for, and the almost flat conversation several of the La Lune’s provided, it was hard to make this work.

Gabrielle, for example, was being quite rude. Not as rude as Lawrence had been, but she was snippy. Ralph couldn’t figure out the cause of this. Her and Jeanne didn’t seem to like each other. Were those everyday family issues, or was it more? He had no idea what any of the other people were thinking.

He did listen as he heard the doctor asking Elenore something. Ralph wished he could hear better what was being said at the end of the table. Would a round table have been a better idea? Then maybe everyone could have better access to the conversations.

Now there was another empty seat on his side of the table, as Miguel left. It felt like a strange countdown. He sighed and finished his food, letting the plate be removed to make way for the cheese plate. He was very fond of cheese so he was excited to see a whole course of the dinner was focused on cheese.

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Millicent felt the wave of awkwardness as a hush fell upon dinner. It seemed no one wanted to be the one to break the silence as the cheese and wine were brought out. Millicent scanned the others, willing someone to say something. Her curiosity was running wild with all of the information being given.

She was not a conspiracy theorist. She did not believe there were Jewish space lasers, she felt the Earth was round and that we landed on the moon, she didn’t think there were mole people, and there may or may not be aliens, but if there were, Millicent was sure they wanted no part in human affairs. We can’t get our planet in order; of course they would avoid us like a plague.

No, this whole thing stunk. There was no way this group of random people was brought just to see who won an award and money. Millicent’s mind went to another conspiracy theory and wondered if this was a “greatest game” type deal where they were about to be hunted for sport and stocked up on wine and food before they released them into the wild. Or perhaps this was an Agatha Christie novel and they were about to be picked off one by one. Her money was on Eleanor.

Millicent’s eyes wandered over to the lone woman who remained fairly silent apart from asking for the steak sauce. Eleanor clocked her too. In a way, she was the lone figure. Everyone else seemed to be getting along well, apart from the punching and taking shirts off and leaving to, presumably, take care of business. She didn’t.

So, taking one for the team, Millicent spoke up. ”So what’s your deal if you don’t mind the bluntness. You’ve been awfully silent through this.” she said to Renne, eyes on the lookout for the slightest twitch.

Renne smiled brightly. ”Oh, hi, sorry I'm Renee. Uh, I'm a pre-school teacher from London. Nothing as interesting as you all,” she admitted.

And that was it, wasn’t it? The others had arguably more exciting careers and here was a pre-school teacher. While Millicent thought teachers did fantastic jobs worthy of high pay and benefits, what was this one doing here? What did she do that was worthy of a nomination.

”So what’s your opinion about all of this? Why do you think you were nominated?”

”I wouldn't presume to know for sure. However, I recently was involved in leading a project at my school. We started teaching low end cooking skills. A lot of these kids come from families that struggle and teaching them the extra life skill will hopefully help them more in the future. I know a lot of people never learn any cooking skills.” Renee sips her wine. ”I can't be totally certain that's what garnered the attention to get me here. But it is the only thing I've done that deserves it. The whole thing is rather fantastical.”

Millicent looked at the woman and felt she believed her own words. Whether that was true or not remained to be seen, but if what Renee said was true, then that would qualify for an outstanding achievement award. Millicent almost felt badly at the cross-examination.

Almost.

Because even Renee was not above suspicion. Millicent then took a sip of the new wine brought out and enjoyed some of the cheese. Still, her mind wandered, warping itself to find someone who wasn’t beyond suspicion. Perhaps after dinner would be the best time to find out more.

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Sam had hoped the rest of dinner could go off smoothly given how it had been so far. But his bathroomate / sitting partner seemed to have other ideas. Her question seemed pointed, almost to the point of aggression masked behind the pretense of conversational topics and pleasantries. He also wasn't exactly certain as to what it mattered any? Would she have preferred the masses nominate her? Proving to herself how widespread her fame had gotten? Or did she wish for a family member to have done so? So that she may have some pretentious fuck in her back corner to help endorse her in the future? To Sam it didn't really matter. If she won, then she'd be elevated regardless due to the award. If she lost then she could simply ask about her nomination after the proceedings so as to not go against the awards rulings. Of course, he didn't wish to say anything to her just yet. After all they'd already gotten off on the wrong foot and they'd have to share a space together for the foreseeable future.

It began to become increasingly more difficult to ignore her as she began to speak through Sam and towards Ralph. Something that Sam found particularly irritating. It was part of why he had chosen to stand up to speak to Miguel, and why he almost fumbled the steak as Miguel began to pass it over Ralph's own food. The least one could do is ask for it to be passed down. But Sam tried not to focus too hard on it, pushing past it and hearing what Eleanor had to say as the doctor seemed to be asking about previous winners. Handling ancient texts sounded cool. Like being some sort of ancient wizard who relied on pages of the past to learn magic. Though he doubted it was anything near as fantastical as that. But it seemed as though perhaps what the La Lunes were looking for was passion within their chosen fields. Which sounded a lot like what Renee was describing.

Sam finished his second glass of wine as the third began to pour. Man the French really loved their wines huh? A platter of cheese brought out before him. He wasn't exactly sure what to do with it all, but he'd seen ratatouille enough times to trust the tiny chef. So he grabbed a cracker, dipping it into the soft cheese to scoop it up before placing a fruit on it and drizzling it with honey. He shoved the piece fully into his mouth and began to chew. The flavours going from distinct notes before melding into one delicious note. This may be his favorite meal so far. He took a sip of the wine, tasting the fruity notes and accidentally taking a larger gulp than he wished to as the flavour moved in swiftly. He just hoped the wine itself didn't move in that quickly. He looked towards Ralph, now that Millicent was done with him apparently, before speaking again.

”Ok this cheese board is amazing. I don't really know what I'm looking at or doing, but the chef here clearly does.”

”Me either. But I sure am happy to try it all,” Ralph said. ”I’m just going to sort of play around with the types of cheese and extra stuff since I don’t know what is best.” He shrugs a little and starts mixing and matching bits of cheese with nuts and fruit.

”Well if you get a ‘perfect bite’ you should let me try it.” Sam said as he playfully tapped Ralph's thigh, giving it a bit a squeeze before sliding it up a smidgen and letting go. Formulating his next attempt at cheese legos. Sam decided bread would be the next vessel, with something like the hard looking cheese with crystals and a slice of apple.

After a few moments of silent trying of combinations Ralph let out a delicious moan. ”Oh that was good. Try some of the soft stuff with the bread and honey and a tiny bit of the red jam.” Ralph suggested.

Sam's ears perked up a bit as the silence was cut with the sounds of Ralph enraptured by pleasure. Something he hoped wouldn't be the last he heard of it too. He did as Ralph instructed, spreading the soft brie onto the slice of bread, drizzling some honey atop it before adding a speckling of jam. It. Was. To. Die for. Every single bit complimented each other in such a way Sam had never considered cheese could do. He wasn't exactly a connoisseur of cheese or wine, usually opting for a block of cheddar or pepper jack to bite into or a cheap large bottle to down at parties like a near trick. But this gave both a whole new perspective. He let out a soft, but moanful, ”Fuck.” before he continued onward with his dish. ”You weren't kidding.”

Sam turned his attention towards Renee as he began to assemble his next bite. Seeing what other combinations he could create that felt as good as the last. ”That's so cool though. You're impassioned enough to not only teach at the underprivileged school but also help them develop valuable life lessons they can use beyond learning why the curtains are blue. I mean, I know I did a stream once with a friend and we tried making a dish and their chat flamed me on my knife skills. Apparently I cut like a chaotic man possessed by a demon.” He said with a bit of a laugh.

Renee laughed, ”There are a lot of lessons to learn with a knife. We use safety knives for the kiddos. They can't hurt themselves with knives. However, it is important for kids to learn early about how knives work and how dangerous they are.”

”Maybe the chef here would be willing to give you ideas on some lessons? Even if not with a knife the kids could learn to match cheese or something simple that most anyone can make or have access to. I think cheese and fruit is pretty accessible and healthy, could even give the parents a bit of a break as the kids prepare their own snacks for school.” Sam wasn't sure exactly how these courses went or how old kids were but…he did know this cheese was amazing and kids may enjoy being helpful around the house. He always did.

”That is a really good idea. We do snack preparation as part of the program with the kiddos, so that’d be a neat idea. I’m not American, our school is government funded. So the parents don’t have to worry about sending food.”

What was that like? Having a school where the kids didn't have to worry about food. Funnily enough he'd met his best friend at the school cafeteria, splitting his lunch with him so that he wouldn't be hungry. ”That's wonderful, more schools should be like that. Hard to focus on learning when you're hungry.” Sam stated.

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Rhiannon inspected the cheese after it was laid out on the table. Cheese wasn’t one of those things that was high on Rhiannon’s priority list, like it was for some. People with Asian ancestry tended to shy away from cheese since there was a history of lactose intolerance among them. They broke up a piece of the softer cheese and added some jam, and gave it a taste before sticking to the nuts.

The conversation around the table started to dwindle, which sparked a topic of conversation for Rhiannon. It was a shame they were so far away from the ghost hunter. It would be interesting to pick their brain on a few things.

“So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” Rhi asked, turning to look at Nathan.

“Personally, I’m only here in the summer. I tend to spend my time on the lake or sailing.” Nathan tells her. He has a note of pride as he says sailing. “The rest of the year I am in Paris.”

“That sounds fun! I've never been personally, but the water has always seemed appealing to me,” Rhi noted, taking a sip of their wine. There was something about a good Riesling that always settled Rhiannon. Although she should be mindful about drinking too much…

“Is there anything else for the guests to do? Or perhaps there is something you like to do for fun?” Rhiannon asked, addressing the person on the other side of them for the first time.

Lena looked a little surprised at being addressed. “There is the library, garden, lake, vineyard are some people’s favorite pastime.” She shrugged. “There is also a pool house. If you like swimming, but don’t want to do that in the lake.”

“Oh? Is there algae or something in the lake?”

“It is cold, and full of fish.”

Rhiannon laughed at Lena’s response. It was so straightforward that they couldn’t help it. ”Not nearly as cold as swimming in a lake fed by a glacier, I’m sure,” Rhiannon said with a grin.

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Constance watched as the serving staff swapped out the main dishes for the next course, and she had to blink for a moment as she saw the platter of cheese placed before her. Constance couldn't honestly remember when she had seen, let alone eaten so much dairy, but knew that the amount she had eaten with dinner probably had been more than enough.

She had to think about do this. She didn't want to seem rude after all, or that she was some sort of picky eater. However, she had been given an opportunity by that gentleman that had punched the rude man in the face earlier excusing himself due to feeling ill. She had an idea formulating in her mind, not a devious one, but one that would make her seem like a polite and considerate guest.

"I do apologize but as an athlete I usually try to eat so healthy, and my diet is not use to such rich and delicious food. I will have to pass on the cheese course tonight, but thank you for giving us so many wonderful food options." Constance turned to look at Eleanor and smiled softly, hoping she did not upset their host as well as ruin her chance of winning the award.

She picked up her glass of water and sipped it slowly, looking around the table again. She wanted to say more, ask more, but what could she say, or would ask? Dare she ask whom nominated her? No. She didn't want to know, especially in case it was that really disgusting man that had nominated her.

Her mind turned again to the photos. She had already decided none of the other nominees had their hands in this. No, that wouldn't make any sense. (Of course if she was any good detective everyone would be a suspect but, Constance never claimed to be a good detective.) However, the fact that no mention of anything wanted or anything at all still bothered her. Usually didn't blackmailers demand something? Maybe they were biding their time. That worried her again. Maybe they were waiting until she won the prize and then would wait for the money.

Her eyes went back to the handsome Tony and she offered a small smile. Oh yes, a distraction would be very well warranted that night.

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As the various conversations around the table began to dwindle, the tension in the room became palpable. In some ways, it made sense. It was pretty clear to Tony that this dinner hadn't exactly gone according to plan, and everyone probably knew it - Lawrence making an ass of himself, a nominee punching him, that same nominee feeling ill and needing to leave early, and so on. Then there was the fact that it felt like half of the nominees were completely out of their element at a formal dinner, behaving in ways he'd never seen at similar events in the past - in ways that would probably have them not get invited to future occasions, if not actually kicked out altogether. Not to mention the fact that the seating chart was made laughably awkward by the massive gaps now present across the table, making it exceptionally difficult for many of them to make conversation.

Yet in other ways, the tension was becoming another confusing piece of the puzzle that this trip had turned into. Between the rudeness of some family members and the lack of conversation from others, it kind of seemed like most of them didn't really even want to be here, playing host to a bunch of strangers they can barely relate to. Based on conversations overheard, it sounded like at least a couple of them don't even stay here for most of the year. So if all these people didn't want to be here, why were they? Additionally, although in some ways it made sense that some of the nominees were acting weird - they clearly weren't the types to attend this sort of thing normally - some of the behavior just didn't make sense. One of the women at the other end of the table seemed particularly interrogative. Why did it seem like everyone was focused on questioning the La Lunes about the awards, and not just making friendly small talk? Tony had a good reason for doing it, of course - someone here, most likely Elenore, was trying to blackmail him with something that could easily be the end of far more than just his award-winning prospects. But why was everyone else acting strangely?

Something wasn't adding up, that's for sure. Tony just didn't know what part of the equation he was missing. There was one equation he did fully understand though: cheese + wine = delicious. He'd always appreciated the simple truth that was good food; sure, you could make a meal as complicated as possible if you want, but you could also reduce a meal to its simplest form and a good pairing would still taste great. And this cheese (he assembled another combination from the cheese board) with this wine (he took another sip) was a great pairing. If only everything else could be so simple.

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The group only had a few minutes with the cheese plate. Then came the desserts: individual servings of Tiramisu, perfectly layered in glass cups. It was beautiful.

A new wine glass was placed in front of each diner. This one was filled with a dark port. The port was called Lune Royale. The aroma was of dark fruits—blackberries, black cherries, and plum—intertwined with spices of cinnamon, nutmeg, and a delicate trace of chocolate, creating a decadent nose that promises indulgence. Upon tasting, the palate is full-bodied with a smooth, velvety texture. This wine envelops the senses with flavors of dried fruits—fig and raisin—and a slight nutty undertone of almond and hazelnut. The richness is perfectly balanced by a touch of vanilla, making the mouthfeel satisfyingly round and luxurious. The finish is long and warming, with a gentle sweetness that lingers, followed by a subtle note of oak. This wine’s complexity is enduring, making it the perfect companion to the indulgent finish of a meal.

@PatientBean Millicent will notice that Nathan seems a little sad that he couldn’t continue the conversation about sailing, which had started.

@TheMaster99 Tony and Constance will be caught between Beatrice and Elizabeth discussing different cheese pairings and other items on the plate. If he copies any ideas, he will find them quite delectable.

@KazAlkemi Lena looks slightly horrified. “You do that?” Nathan looks over at Lena, surprised to see her participating in a conversation beyond answering questions.

@Trainerblue192 ”Well I don’t know how it is in American schools, not really. But my program is fully government-funded. I did have to fight a bit to get my little project off the ground. But it has made a few families comment about how much more confident their kiddos are now. One parent told me they got a whole kid-sized setup following my model, which was very sweet. She told me that when the kid outgrows it, she plans to donate the set to another school.” Renee seemed excited to talk about her school and the program she had started.

@kittyluna45 Elenore did not seem upset about the refusal to eat the cheese plate. It was quickly whisked away by Felix, who handed it to one of the maids. She asked him something in French, and he nodded assent. The maid disappeared with the plate and went into the kitchen.

When Felix brought the dessert to Constance, he offered it; if she rejected it, he would immediately take it away.

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Some of the tension had lifted as more people talked about stuff. He lifted his head slightly at the mention of fish in the lake. ”Is it good for fishing?” He asked generally in Lena’s direction since she was the one who mentioned that the lake had fish.

However, it was George who answered. “Ah, yes. I spend a fair amount of time there. If you find yourself wanting to fill your time with some fishing, come on over, and I’ve got a rod you can borrow.” The older man said. “It is usually just Nathan and me; we’d love to have someone join us.”

“If the weather doesn’t turn as nasty as it looks like it might,” Nathan says. “I was out there for a bit just before dinner. The lake is dark, and so is the sky. It looks like it might be a nasty summer storm.”

”You don’t get, like hurricanes or anything like that here, do you?”

The older man laughs, “Oh, nothing as dramatic as that. We’ll keep an eye on it, though. I hope it doesn’t get too bad.” The man frowns, looking concerned. “Hopefully, it just passes over through the night and doesn’t hang around. It would be awful to be stuck inside the whole day tomorrow.”

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Sam was, unfortunately, too engrossed with his cheese platter to have taken his time with his wine. Only sipping at it occasionally when he noticed a few people had declined to even eat their cheese plates. By the time he was done he had half a glass left and already they were bringing out the desserts. It looked absolutely delicious. Way better than the Tiramisu he bought from Publix. But with a new course came new wine, and that meant Sam needed to finish his glass or perhaps risk losing it. So as they began to fill the new glass, Sam quickly tossed back his cheese wine, swallowing it all in one gulp. He'd chugged bottles of wine before at parties, but even then he was beginning to feel a little tipsy from how quickly he'd been finishing his glasses. ”See? That right there already shows you just how amazing your project truly is. Not only are you teaching kids core skills for the future, but you're inspiring young chefs as well as your community to grow and help each other in a cycle that will hopefully live on well past you. Who knows how many families that small kitchen is going to see in its lifetime. How many kids get to feel the joy of making a meal.” Sam commented before tasting the new wine.

However the comment made towards Lena, which Sam fully thought had been directed to the woman asking about afternoon activities, gave him a bit of an opening to speak to them as well. Now that Miguel was gone and Ralph was being snatched up by anyone around, he figured he should get to know others as well…before the alcohol sets in fully. ”Shocking right? I didn't know anyone actually went swimming in lakes with glacier water. Sounds like it'd be absolutely freezing. But is that what you do? Like part of your training regimen or something?” Sam asked before putting a spoonful of dessert into his mouth.

Rhiannon smiled at Lena and nodded before glancing at the new voice. ”It's rather refreshing actually. No, it's more for fun. I'm a professional dancer and I do a bit of singing,” Rhi explained.

”Singer and a Dancer? If you can act that's a triple threat. …I think? No idea to be honest, I mostly got that from growing up on Disney Channel. But everyone could sing, act, and dance on those shows and movies it felt like. So what kind of dancing do you do? Ballet? Ballroom Waltz? Interpretive? Uh…that's kind of all I know” Sam said with a bit of a nervous chuckle..

Rhiannon stared, a slightly amused expression on their face. ”No acting, I just perform on stage and I'm about to go on tour actually with my group. I'm more of a hip hop dancer, heels, K-pop. That sort of thing. What do you do?”

Heels? Sam thought to himself as he chewed on a bit of Tiramisu. What did that mean? Did she mean she did Hip Hop while wearing Louboutins? That sounded dangerous. ”I'm a professional Paranormal Investigator. Ghosts, Demons, things that go bump in the night. That sort of deal. Not much experience on the stage. I mean, I did do lighting and music for my schools on stage productions. Oh! And one time I got to be tree number three when the pre-show snacks gave someone food poisoning and they had to run out. But maybe Millicent would know more about being on stage talent than stage production lackeys. She's a magician.” Sam punctuated his statement by gesturing towards the woman to his right.

Millicent had been enjoying her dessert when she heard her name pop up. She hadn’t been listening to Sam and the woman he was talking to, instead her eyes were on Eleanor. But she turned to face Sam. ”Sorry, I was elsewhere. What did you have a question about?” She glanced between the two of them. ”Stage production? Yes, I know a bit about that. Tricks take time to set up and get just right, on top of the lights and music and general “mystical” sense you try to get the audience to engage in.”

”Oh true, both are very important in making a good show. Even if the lead actress will never admit it and think it's all fully carried by her pitchy tune.” Sam commented, somewhat grumbling to himself towards the end before picking back up. ”You know? I've always wondered. Have you ever sawed someone in half? If so, how do you do it? Ooo ooo or the swords in a box trick. That one I think I got it figured out but even then it's a bit crazy. But the sawing thing I could never wrap my head around.”

”Smoke and mirrors, Sam, smoke and mirrors.” A light smile on her lips. This was what she loved and kind of hated about performing magic; when people wanted to figure out the tricks. ”I get the curiosity, but sometimes its nice to just believe in magic for a bit. To answer, no I have never sawed anyone in half but I do know how they do it. I did escape a box submerged in water though, once. That was a good show the audience really was energetic that time.”

”It's kind of funny. I go out and hunt the paranormal to gather evidence that those beyond the veil still have sway within this world and yet…the idea of being submerged in a box is what scares me more. Knowing me I'd panic and start to hyperventilate and drink up too much water and pass out. I don’t know how you could stay so calm under all that pressure. But literally from the water and figuratively from the crowd. Some tricks feel a bit…too extreme. I mean as an audience I'd love to see it. But as a performer? Knowing one wrong move could end it all? Terrifying.” Sam stared into his wine glass, and far off look as his mind replayed thoughts he'd had before before snapping back into space and taking a measure bite of his food.

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”Two ghost hunters? Well, that’s interesting,” Rhiannon mused before listening in to the conversation Sam started to have with Millicent. A magician piqued Rhi’s interest. A magician could sneak into someone’s room and leave incriminating evidence. Rhi watched Millicent closely, trying to get a vibe check from them.

Rhiannon listened to Sam’s fears and finished their wine before the next course. They chuckled slightly and shook their head. ”It’s all about making the audience think your mistake was intentional. The real trick, I would think, is convincing your audience that what you do is real. I mean… There are a lot of ways you could fake paranormal phenomena, performing on stage, though? Can’t really fake that.” Rhi figured if they couldn’t talk to Miguel about faking it, maybe they could talk to Sam about it.

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Finishing her conversation with Sam, Millicent caught the tale end of the dancer’s final point regarding stage production and felt her eyes on her. Was there judgement there, or understanding?

Whatever the case was it seemed the people gathered came from all walks of life. Different careers, different life experiences that led them to their careers. She noted one of the other men at the table, one she hadn’t addressed. He seemed to be assessing everyone here, much like she did. Perhaps he would have insight into all of this going down.

”We all seem to be interrogating each other, so pardon me, but what are your thoughts? I’m Millicent by the way, magician.” She paid careful attention to him. While the others were varying degrees of readable, she felt he would be more challenging. Perhaps someone detailed-oriented who knew to keep things close to his chest.

The man seemed not to notice she was talking to him for a moment, but then turned to return her gaze, several seats to his right. ”Tony, surgeon,” he replied, swirling his wine and taking a sip before continuing. ”As for my thoughts, I think this has been a lovely dinner. The steak was excellent, the wine was great even if I’m not much of a wine drinker, and this tiramisu is some of the best I’ve had. What do you think?” he countered, taking a bite of tiramisu as he finished.

Millicent narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly, trying to read the man. How does one experience a dinner with a wide range of characters, actual violence, and clear secrets and comment on the tiramisu, as delicious as it was?

But she couldn’t quite grasp anything from him. Like an invisible wall was put up and nothing could penetrate it. ”Yes, dinner was lovely. Best I’ve had in a long while. And quite lively conversation here, wouldn’t you agree?” She would keep an eye on Tony here. He would either prove to be a great ally or a formidable foe.

Again there was a brief moment before Tony answered, but this time it clearly wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed her question; he was watching her as closely as she watched him. ”Certainly. From start to finish, this has definitely been a dinner like none other. If we can expect more of the same for the rest of the weekend, then I don’t think this will be a trip any of us will ever forget.” He took another sip of wine, seemingly at ease with the situation as he held her gaze. Or was he? She couldn’t tell.

The two stared each other down as if a battle of wits was being waged through thought and osmosis. Millicent wanted to know more but didn’t feel dessert was the best for interrogation. Perhaps after a few more drinks Dr. Tony would be more open.

Her mind wandered again. The whole ordeal was opening up something inside of her. A concern that this trip was more than she or anyone here bargained for and that included the La Lune family. Their own drama aside, though not all the way, the colorful assortment of characters gathered here, the blackmail note in her bedroom, the tension built, the subtle and not-so-subtle glances between people seated here, rubbed her the wrong way. She had half a mind to ask to be taken out of the competition and go back home. She would lose the money, but wouldn’t it save her trouble in the long run.

But she had a creeping feeling. The note she received confirmed a fear she long held and one she was desperate to figure out. Someone here was toying with her and, given the nature of the dinner alone, was perhaps toying with others.

Was Sam as innocent as he appeared or was it a mask he put on so people paid him little attention?

Is Tony as laid-back as he appears or is there an undercurrent of something more sinister he doesn’t want anyone finding out?

Miguel appeared kind, but he also punched a man. Albeit a homophobe, but the rise to violence immediately could be cause for concern.

Renee appeared sweet. .A preschool teacher of all people. But didn’t the nice person often hold a dark secret?

Ralph offered little about himself, which given the fact they were al strangers didn’t mean much, but was he hiding the fact he knew more about them all than he led them to believe?

Ivanna Slay, a figure used to putting on a costume and show for others. How easy would it be to continue the show outside of the stage to hide what your real intentions were?

Constance appeared like a woman who was used to getting what she wanted. What if she wanted them here for ill intention? Constance was one she felt the strongest connection to, though that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Rhiannon, admittedly, the person she knew the least about, but what she heard gave her some pause. And the way she looked at her. Was it curiosity or something more?

Either way, Millicent didn’t want to leave. Not yet. She needed answers and she had a feeling the night was far from over.