Chapter 18 - The Poisoned Chalice
The grand banquet hall of Meridian was adorned with crystal chandeliers and long tables laden with roasted meats, exotic fruits, and sparkling wines. Nobles from dozens of southern houses sat around the perimeter, whispering quietly as Giselle and Stellan took their seats at the head table.
Lord Alistair stood up, raising a crystal goblet filled with deep red vintage wine. "To a new era of prosperity, unity, and peace between the North and the South!" he announced loudly, forcing a wide smile.
The entire hall echoed the toast, raising their glasses.
Giselle looked down at her goblet. Her enhanced senses—sharpened by her royal Lycan-frost heritage—immediately caught a faint, metallic tang beneath the sweet aroma of the vintage. She glanced sideways at Stellan. He, too, had noticed. His jaw tightened slightly, his golden eyes flashing with warning.
Instead of drinking, Giselle stood up gracefully, her crimson eyes locking onto Lord Alistair.
"A wonderful toast, Lord Alistair," Giselle’s voice rang clear and cold across the silent hall. "Pity that you forgot to check the vintage for southern soul-bane."
Gasps erupted around the room. Alistair’s face drained of all color, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the table. "Y-Your Majesty... what are you talking about? That is a rare century-old wine!"
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Stellan stood up beside her, kicking his chair back with a loud clatter. With blinding speed, he reached across the table, grabbed Lord Alistair by the collar of his silk doublet, and hauled him across the wood, slamming him down onto the table as plates and wine glasses shattered everywhere.
"You tried to poison a queen," Stellan snarled, his voice vibrating with terrifying, murderous intent. "In neutral territory. Do you take us for fools?"
