Chapter 3 - The First Strike
The banquet hall was a suffocating theater of murmurs and forced smiles, but for Eloin, the noise faded into a dull hum. Her gaze remained locked on the dark silhouette standing near the heavy velvet drapes. Behind the smooth, aristocratic mask of Chancellor Vane—Lord Vain’s elder brother—writhed a soul of absolute rot. It was a cold, calculating void that echoed the exact malice Eloin had witnessed the day her mother died.
Kalin felt the tension radiating through the arm locked with his. Without turning his head, the king murmured low enough for only her to hear, "Which one?"
"The Chancellor," Eloin replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline hammering against her ribs. "Vane. He isn't just a political rival; he wears the exact poison that orchestrated my mother's trial and your sister's disappearance."
Kalin’s jaw tightened, a dangerous shadow crossing his dark eyes. "Keep walking. Smile. Let them think we are simply enjoying the feast. We strike when the court’s attention is fractured."
As they took their seats at the high dais, the weight of a hundred hostile stares pressed down upon them. Celestine, seated three tables away, looked ready to shatter her wine glass with her bare hands. The noble families whispered behind folded fans, their contempt barely masked by polite bows.
Throughout the meal, Eloin played her part with chilling precision. She ate sparingly, listened to the sycophantic reports of minor lords, and kept her eyes subtly drifting back to Chancellor Vane. She watched him exchange a furtive glance with a general seated nearby, noting the precise cadence of their silent conspiracy.
When the dessert wine was poured, Kalin stood, raising his goblet to command the room’s attention. As the hall quieted, the king’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
May you like
"My lords, ladies, and honored guests," Kalin began, his gaze sweeping slowly over the crowd until it landed squarely on Vane. "A kingdom is only as strong as its foundation. And a crown is only as legitimate as its justice. Tonight, we celebrate new beginnings—and the unearthing of old rot."
Chancellor Vane’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. It was the only tell Eloin needed.
