Scars of Gold

Chapter Thirteen

 Ash opened the door to my rooms at eight, I was ready and waiting for him by the window, a clean guard's jacket and top replacing my bloodstained clothes from earlier.

"You don't look well," was his opening remark.

"That's what happens when you force your new pet to use her powers without the proper recovery protocols in place," I snapped back.

He had the good sense not to respond.

"Are you ready?" he asked instead.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one escorting you down there?"

"So you know where you're going?"

"I would if anyone had bothered to give me a tour."

I was almost through the door before he stopped me. "Wait. Your name is Kacia Van Praagh. You're from a little known, but wealth family in Tenia, in Northern Lathria. Just enough status to explain your new role, but not enough that someone would expect to have heard of you. You were trained by your father, a successful but now retired army general. It's unlikely that anyone will speak to you tonight - you just need to stand at the side of the room without looking like you're about to keel over, which I'm sure even you can manage."

"I don't know... My body might revolt at being asked to stand still and do nothing for a couple of hours. I'm not used to resting."

"Or keeping quiet, apparently. Guards are expected to be seen and not heard, so you might want to work on that."

I gave him a mock salute, lapsing into silence for the remainder of our journey to the 'smaller' banquet hall.

The space was small, compared to the canteen I was used to, but it was by no means intimate, with a megalithic stone table running through the centre that could seat at least forty people. An opulent glass chandelier hung low over the centre of it, showering the table in stardust-like patterns. Candles flickered along the walls, which were lined with guards and servants. I didn't need the small nod Ash directed towards them to work out what was expected of me and stationed myself against the warm sandstone behind Ash's seat.

Ash was almost the last to arrive and the table was already full of Lathrian courtiers and diplomats. I recognised Mari, the girl who had flirted with Ash in the training hall, first. She was sat next to a woman who I assumed was her mother from the familiar way they turned towards each other before peering round to assess me, although they looked nothing alike. Dante was sitting further along the table, already looking every bit as bored as he said he'd be. When he caught me looking in his direction, he yawned and rolled his eyes, earning him a swift telling off from a woman sat diagonally across from him.

The two seats at the head of the table were empty, although I had no doubt who they had been reserved for. Ash sat in one of the two chairs closest to his parents'. The chair directly opposite his was empty too, perhaps reserved for Evanthe whenever she returned from Volcaria. The resistance must be going well if it was taking her this long to get back.

The doors at the back of the room opened to a fanfare of trumpets, acting as a signal for everyone at the table to stand. The king and queen entered hand in hand, easy smiles on their faces, and made their way to their chairs at the head of the table. Once they sat down the other guests followed suit and conversation resumed while Etealians rushed in with plates laden down with rich smelling food and pitchers of wine.

No one lifted a fork until the king took his first mouthful, then the guests dove in as though they hadn't eaten for weeks. I thought we were bad in the canteen, but it was nothing compared to the carnage before me. Lathrians evidently didn't value table manners.