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I couldn’t help but notice thatnot oneperson jumped up to help him, not even the woman sitting beside me who clearly meant something to him. Just as I began to wonder if destiny was about to make good on my vow before I did, a chunk of half-chewed meat flew out with such force that it catapulted across the table.
I stared at it—everyonestared at it.
Quickly, a servant darted forward. Leaning over the table, they used a metal lid to sweep the saliva-coated meat chunk onto a silver platter. They closed the lid and then hurried out of theroom, disposing of the evidence—too bad it was seared into my mind.
Unfazed by her husband’salmostdemise, the queen picked up her verbal sword and took aim at the woman beside me. “Someday, I will rid your filth from this castle.”
Meanwhile, the king gasped for air like a fish out of water.
“Perhaps,” the woman said, pausing as she reached across the table and plucked a cherry from a heaped fruit platter. “But even then, my scent will remain in the king’s bed.” She popped the cherry into her mouth, plucked the stem off, and flicked it onto the table towards the queen.
And that was when the queen of Edenvale grabbed a bread knife and hurtled it at the woman’s head. The woman was quick to duck, a mischievous cackle leaving her lips. The knife ricocheted off of the wooden chair before it fell to the stone floor, clattering as metal struck stone.
“I’ll kill you with my own hands!” the queen roared.
Having somewhat recovered, the king jerked upright, his chair shoved backwards. Panting, he said, “That is enough, Melayna. You will silence your tongue. Sit down and eat. Or you can leave. The choice is yours.”
The queen shot the king a withering glare, her fingers twitching. I wondered if she might reach for the goblet next and throw it at him. Instead, she wrangled her scowl into submission and lowered back into her chair.
The king nodded in satisfaction before he sat down, turning his attention back to his heaped plate.
I glanced at the woman beside me, who was casually swirling the wine in her goblet, a satisfied smirk twisting the corners of her red lips. She had come out of this battle completely unscathed, the king her knight in shining armor. The queen, however, looked unhappier than ever—even her meticulously styled wig looked out of sorts.
All those years ago, when the queen was taken by the Cursed rebels, the king had been desperate to save her—his Red Rose.
But now? If the Cursed rebels were to take her again, I doubted he’d ask for her back.
“I apologize for my tardiness,” Aurelius’s regal voice announced as he entered the dining hall, garnishing the attention of the room.
The rich, golden-red pelt he wore emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. Underneath it, a white tunic, the collar laced loosely and shaped in a “V” revealed a hint of the muscle that dwelled beneath. The sleeves were cuffed and perfectly made for the length of his long arms. Black leather pants and polished knee-high leather boots completed the outfit.
As he strode towards me, smiling with those perfect white teeth, I was reminded that he was no mere prince. Aureliuswasthe king of kings. And whether the people around me knew of his divinity or not, I was sure their souls did, because simultaneously, each and every one of them rose from their chairs and theyallbowed.
“Please, continue to eat,” Aurelius said, his tone saturated in charm. He sat in the empty chair beside me. Leaning over, he said, “I’m sorry for being late.” He flashed a playful, knowing grin. “Did I miss anything?”
“It’s been . . .” I paused, trying to find the right words. “Entertaining, to say the least.” I couldn’t help but smile, my mind replaying the entire debacle that had just unraveled before my very eyes.
“As the mortals so often are,” Aurelius whispered into my ear.
I chuckled, the sound produced from whatever divinity lived within—mortal Sage didn’t bother to contribute. That part of me wondered when I had become part of the immortal group that joked about the humans, considering I believed myself to be justthat—human—for the entirety of this life. I felt as though I had blinked and missed when that happened, and now I was at a precipice, teetering between two people—Sage and Aurelia.
One was home, the other a stranger.
My smile faded. Was I going to have to choose between one or the other?
“Is something wrong?” Aurelius asked, his platinum brow dipped, rooted in concern.
A servant placed a silver platter in front of him. With a gloved hand, they removed the lid and then quickly scuttled back, revealing a hot, steaming plate—the meat on it different from what the rest of us had been served.
“No,” I said softly, the lie coming a little too easily. I nodded to his plate. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
He glanced at it, then back at me, molten gold eyes meeting mine. “Your attempt to distract me has not gone unnoticed, but I will not pry into something you do not wish me to.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely meaning it.
“Of course.” He reached for the goblet of wine sitting in front of him. Elegant, long fingers plucked it from the table, and he brought it to his mouth. The golden band wrapped around his ring finger shimmered dutifully, catching my eye as if it were purposefully trying to draw my attention to it. A mixture of feelings wormed their way into my belly—filling me with discomfort and something else I didn’t care too much to dig into.
A man dressed in fancy clothes and somewhere in his forties sat on the other side of Aurelius. He leaned forward, clearing the phlegm from his throat before he inquired in a snobbish tone, “Might I have a word with you for a moment, Your Royal Highness?” He lengthened the syllables, as if it were an effort just to get them out—too good for the common tongue.
