Wet Fire

An Unexpected Fate (E6)

Blythe

The Dining Hall was dimly lit with red torches that flickered on the walls. From the ceiling hung a chandelier, ornamented with quartz crystals and tiny candles. Bright blue curtains that hung on the walls had been replaced with sheer black mesh that was light and flapped heavily in the night wind that blew from the open windows.

Blythe entered the room through the northern door to find that all the guests were already in their seats, chatting. Even the king was in his place at the head of the table, sitting upon a silver chair embellished with gemstones, tearing off a piece of bread with his large fingers. There was an open seat on his left, probably saved for Blythe. "Prince Blythe. Come and sit down, we have saved you a seat." It was Adair's seat. He felt overly cautious after his last encounter with his father earlier in the throne room.

He moved into the room and felt the eyes of the guests upon him. Several council members and their families were dressed in all black sat to the king's right. Their faces seemed stiff and emotionless. Blythe's Aunt Ermendegilda was there, her small eyes were black holes and her gaze was a cold knife, as if saying: you're late again, child, like she always did. Floriana was there too, her head bed down and a handkerchief in hand. She looked up for a brief moment, and Blythe could see the tears in her eyes, and her face red as a cherry. It was obvious that she had been crying all day.

Blythe pulled the chair out and sat down slowly. The king gave him a little smile and patted him on his back as he scooted in closer to the table. "Where is my mother?" asked Blythe to the king.

"Yes, yes, where is your wife, Faustus? What is her name-Laverne?" the Dutchess Seala cut in. Her pouty red lips closed just as fast as they had opened.

Had she always been this intrusive? thought Blythe.

"My wife? Yes, Queen Laverne will not be joining us this evening. She is still in mourning."

"I see," said the Dutchess, "How unfortunate for her." Seala folded her hands and placed them politely on the table.

"It is unfortunate indeed. She has barely eaten these past three days and I am deeply concerned for her heath."

Duke Jonsting's wife spoke this time: "I do hope that she gets better soon-her and I are scheduled for evening tea next week in the gardens. It would be most terrible if she were absent, for I hear that your bakery makes the greatest biscuits in all of the city."

"If Laverne is unable to attend, then I will personally deliver over a basket of biscuits to your manor." said King Faustus, "I do expect that she will return to full health in a few days." His fingers played with the two beads in his beard. "Lolin!"

The servant appeared out of the kitchen doorway and walked over the table. He looked like a scrawny boy his in too-loose blue velvet vest. "Yes, your Majesty? What are you in need of?"

"Tell the cook that my son has arrived. The dinner should be served now."

"Yes, your Majesty." the servant left and then returned with a train of carts, which were piled high with silver dishes, smoking at the top. Lolin and a few others took the platters from the cart and set them down upon the black tablecloth, careful not to bump shoulders with the dinner guests. Once all the food had delivered, the cover of the largest platter was removed to reveal a large ham, blanketed in spices and smoking.

The guests were served first, and their plates were filled with steamed carrots, potatoes, more biscuits, and an assortment of meats. There seemed to be a variety of appetites at the table, for Duke Oskre Hardingly gorged himself on three plates, while Floriana barely touched her food. Blythe was not so hungry either, so he took a few bites of a turkey leg, and then wiped his hand with a napkin, finished for the night.