Both shocked and elated, she snatches the phone from his hand and presses it to her ear.

"Hello?" she says, hopeful but unsure

"Emilia." Her father's familiar voice filters through the receiver.

"Oh my god - Dad," she gasps, swamped with relief. She never thought she would be so happy to hear his voice until this moment.

"Listen to me, Emilia," he says, his tone urgent and severe. "I know where you are and I know who has you, but I want you to know that everything is going to be fine. Have they hurt you?"

Emelia hesitates, glancing at François who is still standing there, and wonders whether he can hear everything her father is saying. She can't tell by his blank expression.

"Yes," she replies quietly.

"Bloody vampires," her dad mutters, voice laced with distaste, and her stomach drops. Oh God.

"So what they've told me is true then," she says. "You do know what they are?"

Anxiously, Emelia waits for her dad to respond, hoping he will deny it. Please deny it. But he doesn't.

"Yes, it's true," he says, his admittance reluctant but unapologetic.

"How could you keep something like this a secret!?" she shouts into the receiver, startling Sofie who is still seated beside her.

"Because it's my job to do so, Emelia," her dad snaps. "You were never meant to find out about any of this."

"Does mum know too?" she asks, not sure if she can cope with learning that both of her parents have been lying to her for almost the entire nineteen years she has been alive.

"Of course not," he scoffs as if it should be obvious and that was an idiotic question. "She thinks you two have been kidnapped by terrorists."

Terrorists would have been the better option, Emelia thinks but instead, she says, "You have to get us out of here, dad."

"I will," he promises, "but it might take some time."

"Exactly how much time?" she asks.

"I can't say for sure right now," he replies. "I have a Skype meeting with the Dashiell's royal communications secretary in less than an hour. Meanwhile, I need you and Sofie to remain calm."

"Calm?" she repeats in disbelief. "We're being held hostage! How can you expect us to remain calm?"

"I expect you to act grown-up for once," he barks. "Now isn't the time for one of your immature temper tantrums."

"But, dad-" she pleads, hating how weak she sounds.

"Emilia-" he interrupts her sternly.

"They kill people, dad!" she shrieks, desperate for him to understand. But he must already know that, right? Surely he won't just leave them here when aware of that big nasty detail.

She hears muffled voices in the background on the other end of the line a second later and can tell when her father holds the phone away from himself as he speaks to whoever else is in the room with him.

"I've got to go," he states abruptly after a moment.

"Dad, wait -"

He hangs up, leaving Emelia reeling with shock. Without saying a single word, François takes the phone back from her and slips it into his trouser pocket.

"What did he say?" Sofie asks, leaning closer with an anxious expression.

"He said everything's going to be fine," Emelia replies flatly, slowly sitting back down.

An awkward quiet descends upon the room then as François returns to his seat and Camille continues eating the rest of her steak. 

Sofie silently twiddles with a strand of her golden hair whilst Emelia stares down at the untouched food on her plate, feeling nauseated by the very sight of it. 

No, there isn't anything wrong with the food, per se. It both looks and smells delicious. The company, however, is repugnant and keeps Emelia's appetite from surfacing despite how little she ate earlier at lunch.

"You're not going to eat anything?" François' question draws her attention. Without looking up from the table, she mutely shakes her head, not wanting to talk to him. His lips thin with displeasure, but he doesn't press the issue further.

"Fine then, go," he says, coldly dismissing them from the dining room with a loose flick of his hand.