The Royal Feast

Elara's POV

The dining hall smelled of roasted meat, spiced wine, and hot wax.

Neris and I moved silently around the long banquet table with three other human servants, pouring wine and placing silver platters of food before the royals. I kept my head slightly lowered, making sure my steps were light and quiet.

Kaelith sat at the head of the table. To his right sat Lady Aliyah, while alpha Vaelor occupied the left, his posture tense and rigid. Alpha Darian sat opposite Vaelor, casually leaning back in his chair with a cup of spiced wine between his fingers.

"Your mountain crops must have suffered this past harvest, Kaelith," Darian said, cutting a slice of meat on his plate. "The trading posts near the borders are thin."

Kaelith did not look up from his meal. "Our stores are full, Darian. We need nothing from your territory."

Darian took a slow sip of wine, his smirk widening. "Which brings me to my proposition. The northern packs have an excess of silver and forged weapons. I propose an open trade treaty. Full access through your mountain passes in exchange for our military supplies."

Vaelor let out a sharp, mocking laugh that cut straight across the table. "You want free passage for your armed soldiers through our private gates? Do you take us for fools, Darian?"

"It is a mutual alliance, Vaelor," Darian replied smoothly. "Unless you fear forty of my men can outmatch an entire citadel."

"Try bringing them past the outer gates without permission," Vaelor growled, his golden eyes narrowing. "You will find forty heads on spikes before sunrise."

"There won't be any need for heads on spikes." Kaelith said, his voice flat. "The answer is no, Darian. No foreign guards marches through my territory. The discussion is closed."

Darian shrugged casually, showing no trace of disappointment. "A pity."

I stepped forward with a pitcher to refill Darian's empty cup. My hands remained steady as the dark liquid filled the rim.

As I pulled back, Darian's eyes flicked to my face.

"You pour with a remarkably steady hand, little human," Darian mused softly. "Most servants in this hall shake whenever they step close to the table."

I bowed my head with practiced calm. "It is my duty to serve without spilling, my lord."

Darian's eyebrows lifted in mild amusement. "Polite and composed. Rare traits in the King's human staff." His gaze drifted upward, zeroing in on the exposed skin above my collar. "Though I cannot help but notice the marks on your cheek. That looks remarkably like a fresh claw wound."

My breath hitched, but I didn't move an inch.

Before I could answer, Aliyah spoke up from across the table, her tone cool and cutting.

"What happens inside the King's citadel is nothing a mere alpha should be nosy about, Darian."

Darian’s smile tightened slightly at the subtle reminder of his lower rank. He placed his goblet down on the table with a soft clink.

"Of course, my lady," Darian said, dipping his chin in mock submission. "Forgive my curiosity."

He turned his attention away from me, his eyes landing on Vaelor.

"And how have you been, Vaelor?" Darian asked, his tone dripping with false warmth. "It has been years since we last spoke."

Vaelor glared at him, his claws lightly tapping the tabletop. "I was having a rather productive week until you walked through the gates."

Darian chuckled softly, though his eyes remained sharp and cold. "Still as pleasant as ever. Though words have it that you have been on a killing spree ever since her death."

The room seemed to freeze. Vaelor's jaw snapped shut, his knuckles whitening against the edge of the table.

The air around him grew instantly hostile. Darian tilted his head, watching Vaelor with an amused gleam in his eye. "That is not a good image for an alpha like you, cousin. Grief should not turn a prince into a butcher."

"Speak another word of her," Vaelor whispered, his voice deadly low, "and I will tear your tongue out right across this table."

"Darian," Kaelith warned, his deep voice carrying a sharp edge of authority. "It will be of more privilege to you if you watch your words in my hall."

Darian raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning back into his chair with a satisfied smirk. He had struck a nerve, and he clearly enjoyed it.

I stepped back toward the wall beside Neris, holding the silver pitcher against my chest. My heart was pounding, but I forced my breathing to stay steady.

Across the room, I felt the unmistakable prickle of eyes on me. I looked up slightly.

Kaelith was staring straight at me from the head of the table. He didn't look at his brother or at Darian. His eyes were fixed on my face, resting intently on the marks over my cheekbone. His expression was impossible to read, his jaw clenched tight as he tracked every breath I took.

I quickly dropped my gaze back to the floor, my fingers tightening around the cold pitcher.