Dinner began the way all royal dinners did, it was orderly, polished, and deceptively calm.
Of course, Caspian showed up as late as possible without acknowledging anyone, drunk on grape wine.
"You're here," King Louis added without looking up.
Across him was Seraphina and her father who looked nervous.
Without a word, he sat.
Crystal glasses caught the candlelight in soft gold reflections, and the long table gleamed under careful arrangement.
Platters of roasted game, buttered vegetables, and fresh bread were laid out in measured symmetry, each dish placed with the kind of precision that suggested nothing could possibly go wrong here.
Across the table, Duke Voss wished, with increasing desperation, that something would.
Because then at least there would be a reason for the way his hands would not stop sweating.
He dabbed discreetly at his forehead with a folded napkin, then reached for his goblet. His fingers slipped slightly against the stem.
