Another World

Chapter 51

Dinner proved to be a rather more subdued affair than the previous night. For one, Thranduil and Charlotte entered the Great Hall through a side entrance that granted them a more direct access to the dais; the grand table laden with a rich assortment of food and beverage, though not on the grand scale as what the feast had been last night.

The first obvious difference Charlotte noted was that the atmosphere was now more relaxed, verging on the cusp of casualness. All the elves were presently seated, and none bothered to rise and bow at the appearance of their King and his human companion; their focus now on eating heartily and conversing merrily. There was none of the pomp and ceremony from last night and it startled Charlotte, even though she was secretly relieved. Having to make a grand entrance night after night and have them all bow formally to her felt...wrong. She was not their Queen yet, but even if she was, she knew that she would not enjoy the constant show of subjugation.

Witnessing how laid back everything was now cemented in her mind that maybe Thranduil did not particularly enjoy such show of grandeur (unless the occasion called for it) and had probably instated that dinner be a less formal occasion for all. There was no doubt that he demanded a certain amount of respect throughout his kingdom, but dinner was supposed to be relaxed and enjoyable. Charlotte agreed wholeheartedly with this ideology.

Thranduil pulled out her seat for her and after she had been seated, he took his place beside her. Charlotte glanced to her left. Hérion was sipping at his goblet of wine, his eyes focused on the throng before them. Other dignitaries were seated at the table, conversing good-naturedly and tucking into their meal. Charlotte noted that he hadn't touched the food on his plate and was choosing to nurse his wine instead.

"Good evening, Hérion," she greeted politely.

"If you say so," he replied, with just a hint of snark.

"Ooh. Something's got you riled up. Do tell," she teased as she stared dishing up what she presumed was chicken that had been smothered in a mushroom and wine sauce. The rest of the course consisted of a healthy variation of vegetables, all cooked to perfection, and Charlotte found herself half grieving the loss of fatty and greasy fast food. What she wouldn't give for an artery-clogging hamburger and fries right now. Maybe she could have a word with Aranhil tomorrow when she managed to escape her confines of Hérion's lessons...

A discreet clearing of the throat drew her attention back to Hérion, who was giving her a pointed look. She returned it with a confused one and he let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Napkin, Lady Charlotte. Napkin." To his credit, he managed not to roll his eyes.

Charlotte scowled, realizing that she had indeed forgotten the first step in fine dining. Flicking out her napkin with more flourish than was necessary, she smoothed it over her lap and cocked a brow at him mockingly.

"So, as you were saying..." she ventured again.

"I offered up no explanation of the sort," he retorted, though his eyes shimmered with just a hint of mischief at their little game of wits.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, deliberately. She knew how much this action riled him. "Tell me what's got your knickers in a knot?"

His glass halted partway to his lips, his delicate brows drawing together as he tried to uncode her odd phrasing. A muffled sound to her right told her that Thranduil had definitely understood her and was having a good chuckled at the expense of his advisor.

"She means in a cruder form, what troubles you, Hérion?" Thranduil supplied, suppressed laughter tinting his voice.

"Yeah, what he said," she said, disregarding all her lessons on how to talk properly (or pompously, in her opinion). She enjoyed yanking his chain too much, though she really should tone it down, she thought to herself.