After dinner, King Valen rose first. The hall quieted at once as he set down his napkin and pushed back his chair.
"Thank you for your company," he said, voice calm but final. "Rest well. Tomorrow will be a long night."
Everyone at the table stood as he did. With a last measured sweep of his gaze over the room—including the briefest pause on Elissa—he turned and left with his minister at his side.
The moment he was gone, the hall began to loosen. Chairs shifted; conversations changed shape.
Lord Varick the Elder, the King's High Strategist and Alistair's grand-uncle, rose stiffly from his seat, reluctant movements. "Come, Seraphina," he murmured.
Lady Seraphina, Mistress of the Veils, stood with the unhurried elegance of someone who never rushed for anyone. Her eyes glided once over the length of the table, lingering a heartbeat longer on Elissa with an unreadable expression, then she inclined her head and followed Varick out.
Other ministers and royal relatives followed in their wake like a slow, controlled tide. The Harley elders stood as well—Mack's father smoothing his sleeves, his mother offering a small, polite smile to those nearby.
"Mack," his father said quietly. "Come along."
Mack pushed back his chair, glancing once more at the table. As he stepped away, his eyes found Elissa. She had just looked up, as if sensing the attention.
He gave her a bright, earnest smile—a simple, wordless "goodnight" and "you did well."
Elissa's mouth softened. She dipped her head in a tiny nod and returned a small, gentle smile. It wasn't much, but it felt like a quiet string tying the day together.
When the elders and most of the higher officials had gone, the air in the hall shifted. The room felt younger, less formal, the conversations a shade less careful.
Endora leaned slightly toward Alistair, seizing her chance.
"You vanished earlier," she said, voice smooth, as if they were picking up a conversation they'd never actually started. "You weren't in the parlour. I was beginning to think you were avoiding us. How have you been, Alistair?"
Alistair didn't immediately respond. He lifted his wine cup, watching the dark liquid a moment before taking a slow sip, gaze drifting over the room as if he had all the time in the world, or as if he simply hadn't heard her.
Endora waited, the pause stretching a bit too long. Heat crept into her cheeks. Around them, others talked and laughed and pretended not to notice.
Finally, after nearly a minute, Alistair set his cup down with quiet precision.
"I was occupied," he said, his tone flat, giving her no more importance than a simple report. "There were matters that required my attention."
He didn't look at her as he spoke. His eyes flicked briefly—so briefly someone might have missed it—from his cup to Elissa at the other side of the table, then to the entrance of the hall as if already thinking of leaving.
Endora felt the slight like a slap she wasn't allowed to react to. Her spine stiffened.
Across from her, Veloria's lips curled into a small, satisfied smirk.
"Looks like he's still not interested in you at all, Endora," she murmured just loud enough for her cousin to hear.
Endora heard every word perfectly. Her head turned slowly, her gaze like a blade as she pinned Veloria with it. For a heartbeat, pure fury flickered there.
But the hall was still too full, too many eyes and ears. She swallowed whatever she wanted to say, lips pressing into a thin line. Instead, her gaze slid away, drifting across the table and catching—whether by accident or design—on another figure.
Prince Rael, cup in hand, was speaking quietly with Dante. Rael's posture was relaxed, but his eyes were never quite careless. He noticed almost everything.
He certainly noticed Endora's look.
His words to Dante trailed off as his gaze narrowed just slightly, tracking the direction of hers, weighing it. Endora looking at someone—not Alistair this time—piqued his interest.
So. That's new, he thought.
On the other side of the table, Lucius was stirring the wine in his goblet, watching the ripples with mild boredom until his attention shifted to Kestrel.
"So," he said lightly, leaning back a bit, "this is the famous southern princess you've brought us."
Kestrel glanced at him, one brow tilting. "Famous is one word for it."
Lucius's gaze moved to Elissa, taking in the set of her shoulders, the way she kept her hands neatly folded near her plate now that dinner was mostly finished, the tiredness she tried to hide.
"She doesn't look like a terror," he said quietly. "A Beautiful.... Young witch." As he said ,his eyes went to saw other Vampiress and then met with Kestrel's.
Kestrel's eyes softened for a heartbeat. "She is young," she said. "But that doesn't mean she's harmless."
Lucius hummed, intrigued rather than wary. "Is she frightened?"
"Would you be?" Kestrel replied calmly. "Strange land, strange court, rumors thick as fog, and everyone staring to see if you'll break."
Lucius considered that. "I'd be furious," he said. "Which, in fairness, looks very similar to fear on most faces."
"On yours?" Kestrel asked, almost amused.
"Mine?" Lucius smiled faintly. "I'm told , I'm charming at all times, even when I'm plotting murder."
Kestrel snorted softly. "Who told you that?"
"Me," he said, deadpan.
That managed to tug the edge of a real smile from her.
Elissa, catching fragments of their tone but not the full words, glanced toward them. Lucius turned his head slightly and caught her eye again.
"We were just speaking of you, Princess," he said, polite and open.
"Nothing terrifying, I hope," Elissa replied, her voice quiet but steady.
"Not yet," Lucius said. "I admit I'm disappointed. I'd prepared myself to be thoroughly unsettled."
Elissa blinked, then realized he was teasing. "I can try harder, if it would make you feel you've traveled for something worthwhile," she returned, a tiny thread of dry humor slipping through.
Kestrel glanced at her, approval flickering in her gaze.
Lucius's smile sharpened just a little. "Careful, princess Kestrel," he said. "If you bring us clever guests, the court won't know what to do with itself."
"I thought you were all quite fond of games," Elissa said, before she could stop herself.
Lucius's eyes gleamed. "We are," he agreed. "The question is whether you've come to be a piece on the board…or a player."
Elissa held his gaze for a breath longer than was comfortable, then looked down at her hands.
"I'm still deciding," she said quietly.
Kestrel's fingers brushed Elissa's elbow under the table in a small, grounding touch.
Lucius watched the movement, filing it away. Protective. Interesting.
Around them, the hall continued to empty in slow streams. Servants began to clear plates. Clusters of lingering nobles drifted toward the doors, laughter echoing off the stone.
Alistair set his empty cup aside and rose, nodding once to Dante, then to Rael.
"Get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow will test more than your dancing."
Rael smirked faintly. "That's unfortunate. Dancing is the only part I was looking forward to."
Dante huffed. "You say that now."
As Alistair turned to leave, his gaze brushed past Elissa one last time. Not cold, not warm—more like a question he hadn't decided if he wanted answered.
Elissa felt it, even without seeing it fully. The hall felt suddenly too big, the remaining voices too loud and too far away at the same time.