We entered into a beautiful dining hall. A long wooden table surrounded by velvet chairs was at its center, while a harpist played in the corner. The table was before a large hearth, which blazed with a warm and robust fire. Light illusions hovered overhead, the orbs intermingling against the gorgeous painting that covered the ceiling, like the Sistine Chapel. The portrait was a design of horses and stags in a field, while couples clung tightly to each other against the rising sun.
Stefan and Delmare were sitting down. It was still weird to see him in a suit. He sat beside Delmare, who’d chosen a black ball gown for the night’s dinner. She bounced in her seat, as if nervous.
I didn’t care what Delmare said. She’d dressed up to impress them. I took a seat next to her, and she gave me a grateful smile.
“Well damn, it’s about time you showed up.” Stefan rubbed his stomach. “I’m half-starved.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Ethan teased as he sat beside me. “You look it.”
Stefan got up and put Ethan in a headlock. The two of them wrestled for a moment before Miroslava said, “Boys, manners.”
Stefan let Ethan go, though Ethan biffed him on the side of the head before he did. They almost went at it again, though a stern look from Miroslava made them stop.
“My sons can be a handful when they’re together,” Jonathan said with a sigh. “They’ve always been rambunctious.”
Jonathan caught my inquisitive eye and said, “King Lycus and I were very close. Ethan might not be of my blood, but I consider him my son, as I know Lycus considered Stefan his.”
“I am very much the same,” Miroslava said. Though her lips pursed as she added, “I wish Antonia felt as we do.”
Ethan frowned for a moment. Stefan let out a small laugh. “The queen doesn’t like me.” Stefan wiggled his eyebrows. “Thinks I’m too brash.”
“The queen doesn’t like anyone,” I said, before I could stop myself. I reddened, realizing I’d embarrassed myself.
But Miroslava smiled, and Jonathan broke into a hearty chuckle. “I daresay she doesn’t. She’s a hard one to please. Ethan would agree.”
Ethan’s mouth twitched. “Unfortunately.”
Delmare was being quiet. She was observing the situation, as if feeling Stefan’s parents out. Servants came by with plates of food, placing them in front of us. Shouldn’t be surprised the main course was prime rib, seeing as how we were in a house full of dragons.
Stefan and Ethan wolfed down their meals, though I was more cautious. I took careful bites, savoring the delicious meal.
Delmare was barely eating. She almost looked green. I reached down to squeeze her hand under the table, and she squeezed it back.
“So, Irena, what are you studying in school?” Miroslava asked kindly, to make conversation.
Delmare swallowed before responding in a small voice, “I’m an art major.”
“An art major!” Jonathan boomed. “Why, that’s fantastic. I studied art at Arcanea University.”
“Really?” Delmare’s eyes widened in surprise, and I shared her sentiment. The creative arts weren’t respected amongst Arcanean circles.
“Of course. I’m a curator at the Malovian Museum of Fine Art,” Jonathan replied. “We have many dealings with the British Museum in London.”
“That’s amazing,” Delmare breathed. “I’ve been to the museum, and the collections inside are gorgeous.”
Jonathan swelled with pride. Stefan leaned in with a full mouth and said, “That’s because he’s painted half of them. Including all the ones in this house.”
“You created all those paintings? Even the one on the ceiling?” Delmare looked above us. Her voice was full of awe and respect. “You must be a master painter.”
“Don’t flatter him too much, my dear,” Miroslava said. “He’ll get a big head.”
“A big head!” Jonathan guffawed. “My talents with a brush are nothing. Watch.”
Jonathan cast his arms upward, and the painting above us began to move. The illusion caused the portrait to come alive, horses running across the ceiling while couples danced and deer frolicked.
“Wow,” Delmare whispered. “What an amazing illusion.”
“It’s a portrait of the Great Hunting Fields,” Jonathan boasted. “Took me five years to complete.”
