Peasant

Chapter 5 - Wines and Whispers

I stood rigidly against the wall, trying my best to emulate the perfect posture Ms. Dorris had drilled into me during training. The weight of the tray I held felt heavier by the minute. Despite my efforts, tiny droplets of sweat formed on my forehead.

Anticipating the arrival of the royals, my thoughts raced. The encounter with Prince Callum in the hallway replayed in my mind. Would he remember our collision, the spilled drink, my defiant behavior towards him? The prospect of facing him again amidst the dining room heightened my anxiety. The presence of King Valdar and his Mistress added to my unease. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure what lay below.

The tray began trembling in my grip as the royal dining hall filled with the cacophony of approaching footsteps and lively chatter. First, an older royal woman glided in, exuding elegance and regal grace that seemed to define her. Beside her, a younger woman followed, mirroring her beauty but wearing a haughty expression that hinted at a snooty demeanor.

Then came an older man enhanced in lavish gold. His presence commanded attention and respect. Following closely behind him was a younger man, resembling him in arrogance and confidence. The atmosphere grew heavier as each royal figure took their place at the grand table.

It was the entry of King Valdar and his Mistress that drained the blood from my body. The pure malevolence that radiated from their form made my stomach churn. Their eyes scanned the room, assessing everything and everyone with an unsettling scrutiny that made me want to shrink into the shadows.

As soon as the blood left my body, it gushed right back up into my head. Prince Callum strode in, the sight of him causing my heart to race and my breath to catch in my throat. His royal attire was impeccable. He wore fine fabrics and gleaming accessories that accentuated his status. His golden locks framed a face that was both handsome and enigmatic. As he passed by me, I couldn't help but meet his gaze briefly. The intensity in his eyes sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, contrasting sharply with the cold sweat that had gathered on my forehead. He settled at the table, positioned in such a way that our eyes would inevitably meet again.

I knew it was time to pour their drinks. I carefully left my spot against the wall and moved towards the table, tray in hand. The royals began conversing as I carefully started filling up two glasses per royal–one with water, one with red wine. My hands shook slightly but I tried to steady them, reminding myself everything I was taught.

As I poured, I tuned into their conversations, trying to make myself as invisible as possible. King Valdar's deep voice cut through the hum of chatter. "It is pleasant to see you, King Rupert, Queen Dina, Prince Edward, and Princess Prisca, of Auchendale." he said, a faint smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes.

King Rupert, the older man cloaked in gold, responded in kind. "Ah yes, and as you King Valdar." He replied, his tone dripping with politeness that seemed to mask an underlying tension.

I moved down the line, filling glasses as discreetly as possible, absorbing snippets of their conversations. The older woman and her younger counterpart began discussing the latest fashions and court gossip. The younger man boasted about a recent hunt, detailing the size of his latest kill with an arrogant grin.

As I reached King Valdar and the Mistress, I felt their eyes on me. The mistress's piercing gaze made me feel as though she could see right through me, sensing my every fear and insecurity. I poured their drinks with extra caution, not daring to spill a single drop.

I then approached Prince Callum. He kept his head straight while gave me a slight nod, acknowledging my presence in a way that seemed to go unnoticed by others. Though, his face had no expression.

Perhaps my outburst at him had made him regret saving my life. I couldn't pinpoint why Prince Callum hadn't reacted to my behavior in the hall. Any other royal would have had me sent right back to the dungeon with no second chances. Did he truly want to help Alnwick, or was there something else driving his actions? His gaze had been gentle, almost compassionate. But I couldn't shake the nagging doubt that maybe, he saw me as a pawn in a larger game I didn't yet understand.