The dinner table was thick with silence.
Cutlery scraped against porcelain in stiff, deliberate movements, but no one was truly eating. Eyes flicked from face to face—sharp, wary, calculating. William sat at the head like a king on a cracked throne, his plate untouched. Michael's jaw was locked tight. Valentino kept his gaze lowered, tension rolling off him in waves.
Only Lorelai seemed completely unbothered.
She ate with quiet enthusiasm, cutting into her steak and lifting forkfuls to her mouth with genuine hunger. She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten properly. The meat was tender, the sauce rich, and she attacked it without pretense, occasionally letting out a small, satisfied hum under her breath.
Michael glanced at her sideways, brows furrowed. William stared openly, his expression unreadable, as if he still couldn't believe she was real. Valentino noticed the bewitched look on his father's face and felt his stomach twist with irritation.
Only when she finished the last piece of steak did Lorelai finally notice the heavy silence and the eyes fixed on her. She blinked, picked up the linen handkerchief, and dabbed at her mouth.
"I'm sorry," she said lightly, cheeks still slightly full. "I was starved."
William's hands were clasped tightly in front of him. He gave a small gesture to a waiting servant. "Bring her another portion."
Lorelai's face brightened instantly. "Thank you," she said with a warm, genuine smile, accepting the new plate without hesitation and diving in happily.
William cleared his throat.
"I'm glad you could eat, Miss Rose," he said, voice smooth but cold. "I thought you might be… wary of eating in your former enemy's house."
Lorelai licked the corner of her lip where a bit of sauce still clung. For a moment she was speechless. She glanced quickly at Valentino, hoping for help, but he kept his eyes on his untouched plate, offering nothing.
She turned back to William, then—without thinking—reached over and slipped her arm through Valentino's, leaning into him with an easy, ear-to-ear smile.
"I'm sure my husband wouldn't poison me on our first dinner with his family," she said brightly.
The word "husband" landed like a stone in still water.
William, who had been staring at her without blinking, finally broke eye contact. He drew in a slow breath, as though he had forgotten how.
"I'm surprised to see you're so trusting of him," he replied, tone flat.
In any case," William continued, "I called this family meeting because I wanted to announce that the official wedding ceremony will take place in one week—if that is acceptable to everyone."
Lorelai's eyes lit up with sudden hope. "Will my family be here?" she asked, voice full of quiet anticipation.
William looked at her for a long moment.
"No," he said simply.
Lorelai tilted her head. "Does she… remember them?" William thought, but didn't voice it.
She shook her head gently. "I really wish to see them. I have no idea who I am or what I'm doing here. I should probably be freaking out right now… but from the little I do know, my life doesn't feel completely safe. So I'm not." She gave a small, harmless shrug. "Still, I suppose you people would be kind enough to let a daughter meet her parents so she can try to remember everything."
William studied her for a beat, visibly surprised by how openly and calmly she spoke.
"That will only be possible once the marriage is finalized," he said at last. "They cannot attend the ceremony. But they may visit you afterward, at our discretion."
Lorelai nodded, the brightness in her eyes dimming just a little. She looked back down at her plate, half-hearted now.
The conversation moved on to matters of territory, shipments, and council pressure, but Lorelai barely followed any of it. The atmosphere around the table had grown even colder—sharp glances between Valentino and Michael made it clear the two were far from friendly. She stayed quiet, offering only timid, harmless smiles when eyes turned her way, giving off the innocent, slightly lost vibe of someone who didn't quite belong in this snake pit.
After dinner, she excused herself and headed back toward the bedroom. Valentino had left the table earlier, and she had been left awkwardly talking with Michael. The house felt strangely cold and echoing as she walked the long corridor.
She slowed in front of their room, pushed the door open without thinking, and stepped inside.
Valentino stood in the center of the room, shirtless, pulling a fresh black shirt over his bandaged torso. The moment she entered, he paused.
"Have you learned to knock?" he asked, voice low and irritated.
Lorelai blinked. "Who knocks when entering their own room?"
"Correction," he said coldly. "This is my room."
She removed her hand from where it had instinctively covered her eyes and looked straight at him, a small, cheeky smile tugging at her lips.
"Well, I am married to you," she said simply, "so technically I can look at you naked as well."
Valentino was visibly taken aback by her sharp tongue. He opened his mouth for a cutting reply, but thought better of it and simply continued buttoning his shirt, jaw tight.
Lorelai's gaze caught on the ugly bullet scar on his chest—still raw and angry against his skin. Her jaw tightened for a brief second.
"He really did get shot…" she muttered under her breath, almost to herself.
The room fell into a heavy, awkward silence once again. Val actively irritated by her presence around him found the only reasonable solution to this problem was to just leave her here if he wanted to keep his peace and keep her alive. But he makes sure that he slams the door as he leaves as if it is his final statement to this conversation. Lora watches cluelessly at the closed door until she hears that the footsteps are far away. then her expressions slowly changes and her eyes that were previously dusty and hazy with forgetfulness shine with a kind of light one can't miss.
"Seven days until the wedding. I think I can work with that." she muttered