The Line She Crossed
On the eve of my wedding, my parents returned from abroad, and my fiancée, Seraphina Vale, went into the kitchen to host them, preparing her specialty—passion fruit tea—for everyone.
My parents, Edward and Eleanor Blackwood, and I had barely taken our first sip when the bodyguard, Alaric Sterling, standing beside her, burst into laughter.
“You really are a family,” he said.
“All of you drinking toad eggs as if they were passion fruit, savoring every mouthful.”
Nausea rose instantly, and my parents and I retched uncontrollably, after which I swung my fist and went straight for him.
But Seraphina shoved me away.
“You were the one who called Alaric a toad before,” she said.
“I was just
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