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“You will make more of an effort. I don’t care if it gets in your mouth, but you will examine the possibilities.”
“I do appreciate your interest in my well-being, Pollux. Being cared for, however, is an occasional burden.”
I want so badly to ask what’s going on, alongside why does your butler have dinner with you…but I have no idea how to phrase those questions with societally appropriate words. Alexios hasn’t seemed much like a butler this evening. As far as I can tell, Pollux has been parenting both him and Andromeda.
Even though, yet again, there is zero family resemblance among them.
And the dude’s totally dressed in white gloves and a tailcoat.
As though sensing my discomfort, Pollux elaborates while getting a glass bottle of juice out of the fridge. “Alexios is sensitive to textures and finds most foods offensive. He used to do better about it, but it has developed into an anxiety associated with eating in general. We are consistently attempting to broaden his safe list.”
“Oh.”
Alexios sighs. “Humans have somewhat recently decided my condition is called Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. If that means anything to you. I personally just call it why the—” He swears. “—am I expected to put anything in my mouth then make it mushy?”
I blink. “Well. That is a fair question.”
“I’m glad you understand my resentment of the rules this meat prison imposes upon me.”
Andromeda reappears with a little tube of kitten food, which causes Chai to come, somehow, more violently alive. He rattles the mesh like an inmate and screams at the top of his tiny lungs.
“May I feed him?” she asks, reaching for his carrier.
I pass it off to her. “Sure, sweetie.”
“Be careful of its claws, dear one,” Pollux grunts as she fumbles to unzip the top door. “Sit with him so he doesn’t launch himself out of your hands.”
While Andromeda sits on the floor, Pollux pulls out my chair for me. I hesitate before scooting into the spot at the table across from Alexios and taking in the spread. Stir-fried vegetables with tofu. Some manner of seasoned rice. Steamed green beans. Extra sauce. Potato rolls.
Why can this man cook all of this yet not send Andromeda to school with a lunch?
Something is not adding up.
He didn’t even know I was coming, so this all couldn’t have been planned, either.
Pollux pulls apart a potato roll while Alexios seeks out the tiniest portions of each dish. I follow their lead and hold my resentment in check as I fill my plate.
Alexios lets rice fall off his tongue after taking half a bite of the stuff. “No.”
Andromeda giggles. “You’ve tried rice before. Why did you try it again?”
He scrubs his mouth with a napkin. “It smelled different this time. As A would say, bamboozled again…”
“Meda,” Pollux warns.
She tucks herself into a small ball around Chai. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of Yama-nii-nii.”
“I understand, but you understand one of the most basic means of continuing existence is hard for Xios. Think before you comment on it. We should not laugh at someone’s efforts, even when they don’t make sense or look difficult to us.”
Andromeda makes a tiny confirming sound.
I tear off a piece of soft bread and try to wrap my head around what’s going on.
Pollux seems so composed right now. Am I in the same room where he shook Andromeda just weeks ago? Maybe he was drunk before but he’s not drunk right now? He was acting really weird when he was drunk at the party yesterday, but not exactly angry weird. To be fair, if I didn’t have Chai, I’d mark the entire event off as a fever dream because, last I checked, giant coats don’t just disappear and leave the memory of a scent behind.
“Butter?” Alexios asks me as he passes a little glass tub my way. “It’s fresh.”
“Pila churned it yesterday,” Pollux offers.
