Page 24 of Dearest Beast
The man glowered at her. Something that should be frightening,but she was too pleased with the blows she was landing to register such a feeling.
“Now see here, Miss—” he started.
“Dessert is served.”
Rebecca glanced up to find the interruption had come from another man, older and more formally dressed, standing before the footmen.
“Your favorite, sir,” he said, indicating mounds covered in almonds.
“Yes, thank you,” Berab said after a beat.
The two ate what turned out to be an orange custard in silence.
“Well,” Berab started, when the food was cleared. “Are you going to retire, or do you require anything else this evening?”
No blessing after the meal? Yes, the lifestyle the Berab family led made certain observances difficult, but she’d always presumed that in the home they still did their daily customs.
The man must have noticed her surprise. “What is it?” He knit his brow. “Have I offended you somehow?”
“Are you not going to recite Birkat Hamazon?” she blurted out.
And… silence. A rather long one. A touch uncomfortable. At least for him, as she was quite used to such a reaction. Though he was probably not used to being rendered speechless, which… had she bested two Berabs in one day? Her lip twitched at the concept.
He coughed a little. “I… um…” He paused again before straightening his shoulders. “We’re only two, so I presumed we would each do it in our head.”
A fair answer, though almost certainly a lie. While their tradition frowned upon embarrassing others, to say the least, that particular mitzvah had always been a bit difficult for her, especially when faced with someone who never thought her worth the trouble of the same consideration.
Besides, why have a quick mind if one wasn’t going to use it?
She raised both brows. “And you’ve already concluded?”
However, instead of admitting the truth, he lied.
“Yes,” he said with a firm nod.
Rebecca pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing.
The dratted man raised a brow, which she ignored.
“Impressive,” she mused instead.
“It is,” he responded with that obnoxious smirk.
Which she could not let stand. She cleared her throat. “I find matters more meaningful when one is competent enough to take one’s time,” she told him. “Though I know that can be difficult for some men.”
And the smirk was gone. Rebecca grinned, soaking up her victory, before launching into the full prayer, out loud even if such was not necessary and her voice was nothing particularly special.
“Now,” she said, when she concluded. “I think I shall retire.”
“Of course,” Berab said, his face and tone blank. “You could certainly do that,” he added, an almost certainly derisive undertone to his voice.
Suddenly, her victory did not feel so complete.
“You don’t approve?” she stated.
“I have no opinion.” He had the nerve to shrug. “You may do what you wish, no matter what the hour. As I said, you’re our guest,” he reminded her, in the same irritating tone.
“More like your prisoner.” She couldn’t help but retort.
