Game Of Thrones Wine Goblet Novels & Stories

(Siena's POV) The delicate ceremonial goblet slips from my trembling fingers, and I barely catch it before it shatters, much like my heart once did in this very place. My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as I clutch the intricately engraved silver chalice, my chest aching fiercely. Each item I pack carries echoes, memories humming beneath my skin like ghosts I've long tried to silence. This goblet was a gift from my warriors, presented proudly after I led them safely through our first major negotiation. Holding it now, I remember their faces—loyal, trusting, proud.

Elara set a small silver tray upon the scrubbed wood, carrying a dust-covered bottle of deep, crimson wine – a rare vintage she had personally retrieved from the late King’s private cellars – and two delicate crystal goblets. "The tea is for the nerves, I imagine," Elara said, effortlessly uncorking the bottle. "But tonight, I think we require something considerably stronger." Zoriya stared in absolute, stunned silence as the true sovereign of the northern territory poured a generous measure of the dark red wine into a goblet and pushed it gently towards her. "To the men in the dark," Elara toasted softly, raising her own glass. Zoriya hesitated for only a fraction of a second before her tre

I watched him bring the goblet towards his lips. He was actually going to drink. I thought he would make an excuse not to, but his mouth was opening. If he knew the drink was poisoned, why would he drink from it? Except he didn't. My hand reflexively shot forward before he could empty the goblet into his mouth, and pushed it away. It clattered as it made contact with the ground, spilling the wine in it all over. Collective gasps echoed through the halls. His eyes, cold as midnight in the deep blue sea, looked me dead in my eyes.

“It’s wolfsbane extract! It’s lethal! Liam is about to bring you the cup!” “I know.” Damon released me and adjusted his bowtie, a cruel, vicious smile playing on his lips. “Since he wants to put on a show, I’ll play along.” Just then, the Elder’s voice boomed from the hall. “Let us raise our glasses! To the prosperity of the Alliance! To High Alpha Damon!” Liam stood on the central stage. He held a golden goblet, his smile radiant. It was the ceremonial “King’s Goblet,” which only the High Alpha was worthy of drinking from.

“Devotion. Damnation. And hopefully… an ending worth being written about.” They exchanged glances, unease rippling through the room. But none of them stopped me. No one ever did. I found the goblets that lined the scriptorium shelves, relics from a hundred forgotten rituals. Dusty, gold, rimmed with runes that still pulsed faintly with power. I poured the wine carefully, the crimson liquid thick as blood, catching the candlelight like a promise—or a threat. Lucian was closest. Of course he was. He always hovered near the fire, near me, pretending not to.

It's slim and cold, making me blow air on it as I rub my hands together and hold it again "You might not feel it but you could actually fall sick and I'm sure you'd feel that" Cream doesn't say anything about it, neither does he stop me. When I'm sure his hands warm enough, I look at the goblet "Is that wine?" "This?" He takes it up, twirling the liquid content inside "It's water" I look into it now "Why is it in a goblet?" He turns to me, eyes looking like it doesn't understand what I just asked or why I even asked "Because it looks classy" He literally just said that in a 'duh, it's obvious' tone.

"Drink," Elinor commanded. I stared at the silver goblet. The liquid inside was thick, smelling of honey and something metallic. My back was a roadmap of semi-healed scars, the Morse code of Evangeline’s whip still stinging beneath my shirt. Around us, the High Council sat in a circle of obsidian chairs, their faces hidden by masks of bone and gold. "Is this necessary?" I gripped the stem of the goblet. My knuckles were white. "The Board has seen enough of my blood."

A maid walked past and in her hands she had a tray of locally brewed wine coloured red. It was the way they did things traditionally, when the prince or any Asgardian ways to announce his bride he took the goblet and made a toss. He welcomed everyone and everyone else drank from the brewed wine. Soon he started wobbling and having strange permunition. He noticed everything as a distinct memory and saw them through his fluttering eyelids. In the midst of everything he searched for Khloe not Zara, he knew deep down what was happening and the fact that it was spiked with wolfsbane he was hoping she had n't by any way take a sip from.

The maid quarters were a beautiful representation of the kingdom of Ghandor. In the early morning, a cold air blew back and forth, causing shivers. Multiple groups of men practice swordplay, as usual, with distant metal striking metal. He remembered the maidens and the over ten contenders who are getting ready for the second round, battling for His affection. Prince Kohl reached out of his bed, glanced out the window, and heard a silent whisper, a voice echoing,'she is the queen of the iron throne'. He looked around his bedroom and wondered whether he was having a hallucination. 'No, this is real,' he exclaimed.

Just then, one of the lord’s servants cracks upon that granite and marble door that leads to the council chambers from the throne room. Robin wanders into the room and in his hands is a Silverite tray with six empty wine glasses along with a crystal, glass, see-through jug. The boy walks around the table and places each glass on the right-hand side of every person that is present, while he makes his roundabout, Zesh cracks a smile, killing the conversation at hand. “Thank you, Robin. This is much needed.” Robin gives a warm and kind smile hearing the fire lord’s words. Once he gets to Zesh’s chair he places the glass on the lord’s right side. “That is very kind of you sir, but I am just doin