Bond of Steel and Silk (BoSS) Fantasy Fanfiction

Chapter 8: Dinner

In the quiet glow of evening, King Varrick and Queen Catelyn sat across from each other at the long dining table. Four footmen stood at each corner of the room, their presence blending into the elegant but understated surroundings. A crystal chandelier hung above them, its warm light reflecting off the polished wooden floor. It was a rare, intimate dinner for the royal couple—usually shared with the Honor Guard or, at the very least, Lord Crawley. But tonight, preparations for the Nebula mission had drawn everyone away, leaving the two royals alone in a calm, albeit unusual, stillness.

Queen Catelyn took a delicate slice of pie and glanced at the empty chair beside her, her expression clouding. King Varrick noticed, his knife paused mid-cut.

He turned to one of the footmen. "Please let Princess Elara know that her dinner awaits her," he said quietly.

The footman nodded, bowed, and left the room swiftly. Catelyn offered her husband a small, grateful smile before turning her attention back to her dessert.

After a journey through quiet corridors, up staircases, and past the King's study, the footman finally reached the princess's room. Two knights from the Silver Horn order stood guard at her door, exchanging a look as the footman approached. As though following a well-worn routine, one of the knights tapped the door with her spear.

"Your Highness, His Majesty requests your presence in the dining room."

A pause, then Seraphina's voice called back. "Please let him know she'll be down in a moment."

The knight nodded in acknowledgment, and the footman retreated. Inside, Seraphina cast a gentle, understanding look at Princess Elara, who remained seated by the window, lost in her thoughts.

"Your Highness...perhaps it would be best not to keep them waiting," Seraphina suggested softly. "Come to dinner. You can always return here after and have a quiet evening."

Elara said nothing for a moment, then rose wordlessly and crossed to her wardrobe. She pulled out a bright pink dress, spangled with glittering threads—a somewhat uncharacteristic choice that made Seraphina blink, though she kept her surprise to herself. Without a word, Elara slipped into the dress, and the two made their way to the dining room, escorted by footmen.

When they entered, Queen Catelyn's gaze softened as she took in her daughter's appearance. A footman pulled out a chair for Elara, and Seraphina sat discreetly beside her, casting a brief, supportive glance at the princess.

The Queen's eyes lingered on her daughter before shifting to meet Seraphina's. A concerned look passed between them as King Varrick looked up from his meal, sensing the tension.

"So," he ventured, his tone light, "how were your lessons today, Elara? Did you finally master Plato's allegory of the cave?"

Elara poked at her vegetables, refusing to meet his eyes. The silence was heavy.

When it became clear Elara wouldn't answer, Varrick turned to Seraphina, hoping for a gentler entry into the topic. "And you, Seraphina—how did your studies go?"

Seraphina hesitated, casting a quick glance at Elara. Before she could reply, Elara's voice cut through the room.

"Go on, Seraphina," she snapped, her voice low and sharp. "Tell them all about how I made Granny Anne quit. How you're so much better than me."

Seraphina blinked, caught off guard. "Elara, I wasn't going to—"

Queen Catelyn's face shifted from shock to indignation, and she leaned forward. "You what? You made Granny Anne quit?" she exclaimed, rising slightly from her chair. "Elara, how could you?"

The King set down his fork, clearly taken aback. "Granny Anne has served this family longer than anyone," he said, a hard edge in his voice. "She's handled many difficult royals—and now you've driven her away?"

Elara clenched her fists, meeting her father's gaze. "Maybe that's because I never asked for this, Mother. Or you, Father. You put all of this on me and expect me not to fight back?"

The footmen exchanged wary glances, while Seraphina reached out, her voice gentle. "Your Highness, let's take a breath—"

"You, Seraphina," Elara cut in, her tone bitter, "you're supposed to be my friend, yet all you do is stand by and watch as they push this all on me!"

Varrick rose, his face now grim, his voice cold with controlled anger. "Enough. I will not have you speak to Seraphina or your mother in this way. You are to go to your room until we decide on your punishment." He turned to the footmen. "From now on, bring her meals to her quarters."

Elara rose, the defiance still visible in her posture. "You're just going to lock me up now, is that it?" she demanded. "Because you can't deal with me like real parents?"

"Elara," Varrick's voice softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "Mind your words."

"Oh, and what will you do if I don't?" she threw back, her voice breaking slightly with the last word.

"Go. Now," he ordered, his fist slamming on the table. The sudden movement caused his cup to tip, the wine spilling across the table.

Elara cast one last glare before storming out. Seraphina instinctively rose to follow but was halted by Varrick's voice.

"You stay," he instructed, his expression stern. "Seraphina, if being lady-in-waiting to the princess is too difficult, there's no shame in stepping down."

Seraphina composed herself, then met his gaze, her voice steady. "I am committed to my role, Your Majesty. I'll speak with her when she's calmed down."

A quiet moment passed. Then Queen Catelyn broke the silence, her voice softer. "Seraphina, I wanted you to know that Aedric will be leaving on a mission soon. We realize how close you and Elara have become...but we thought you should be prepared."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Seraphina replied with a strained but gracious smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

With a final, respectful nod, Seraphina excused herself from the dining room, her thoughts a mix of concern and determination. Queen Catelyn sighed, glancing at the spilled wine and overturned goblet.

"My apologies," she murmured to the footmen as she began to gather herself to retire.

"It's no trouble, Your Majesty. We'll have this all cleaned up shortly," one replied kindly, already preparing to clear the mess.

As the royal couple left, their words were few, their thoughts filled with their daughter and the evening's events. They walked in silence to their chambers, Queen Catelyn placing a gentle hand on her husband's arm as a reminder of their shared burdens.

Meanwhile, in the castle's hidden chambers, Lord Crawley addressed Malachi and the four knights gathered beside him. Shadows draped over the stone walls, and the air was tense as the mission details were delivered.

"Malachi of the Stag," Crawley intoned, his voice steady and formal. "You are the mission captain. The success of this venture—and the future stability of the Nebula region—rests with you and your team."

Malachi gave a solemn nod, his face shadowed but resolute. Crawley then addressed each knight in turn, all standing at attention.

"Silver Horn, Golden Mane, and Crimson Shields—you have been entrusted with a mission of the highest importance. Let your skills and loyalty guide you, and trust in Malachi to lead."

The knights nodded as one, a silent vow shared among them.