The Harlot's Stage or a Gilded Cage

5. The First Dinner

     ***A/N This is the first chapter where I've made substantial edits to the previous one(s) so it might be worth checking those out before you read! Specifically, I added a few paragraphs to the end of the previous chapter. I'll try to let you know when that happens - happy reading!***

    “Hasim Azboun.” Oh no, it was time for Elona's group to enter. Was her hair frizzy after all that steam? She hadn’t even stopped to check. 

    “Sylphia Leverton.” What if she tripped and fell on her face? What if he saw her and immediately dismissed her?

    “Kyera Wistern.” Okay, she had to calm down. All she had to do was not make a bad impression. Just walk like a normal person and talk like a normal person and be, well, normal. She could do this.

    “Elona Kizadi.” Elona took one more deep breath and focused on putting one step in front of the other. She followed the page to her seat and sat down, putting her hand to chest as she let her breath out. She made it. Then she noticed the soft tittering around her and looked up. 

    None of the other Seeds were seated. They were all standing by their chairs waiting for some kind of signa. Elona immediately leapt up and started blushing. Luckily, her skin tone hid the worst of her redness. Hopefully she just looked super healthy or something. Maybe Prince Tynan hadn’t even noticed? 

    She snuck a peek at him as she pretend to stare straight ahead. Nope, he seemed to be watching Kyera take the seat in front of her quite intently. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. On the one hand, it was great that he apparently didn’t notice her gaffe. On the other hand, was she really that insignificant compared to girls like Kyera? She was going to have to step her game up if she was going to win this thing. Losing wasn’t an option.

    Eventually, all the Seeds had been escorted in and were standing by their seats. Prince Tynan seemed to gesture for them all to take their seat, but Elona still waited a beat for the others to start sitting down before she did herself. She was not in the business of repeating her mistakes. 

    “Good evening, ladies,” Tynan addressed them. His voice was deep and gravelly, but not unpleasantly. Elona felt like his rumbling voice was sending light tingles up and down her body, too, like waves of an earthquake passing through her. “Thank you for being a part of The Reaping. Not only is it a great service to your nation, but it is a great personal service to me in particular.” He seemed kind of stiff. Was he just a super formal person, or was he nervous, or was he not excited about this at all? There were plenty of rumors that some royals were forced to undertake The Reaping if their parents wanted to retire or have grandkids rather than because they were ready to find a partner and come into their own. Some even said that royal parents had used The Reaping to find a suitable partner when their children had fallen in love with others and they didn’t approve. 

    “I look forward to having the chance to get to know all of you, both tonight and for the foreseeable future. In the meantime, though, I imagine you are all ravenous after your busy day, so let’s have the first course.” Tynan took his seat again as servants brought the first round of food for the night. 

    The servant that brought Elona’s bowl lifted the cover to reveal a multicolored lentil soup. Elona went to pick up a spoon to dig in, but she was baffled by the range of silverware laid before her. Was this all for one person? It seemed like a full dinner set. She peered around to see if she could figure out which one to use based on the others, but it was hard to compare the sizes when they were in people’s hands and not next to the other spoons. Fine. Apparently she’d have to do this the hard way. She surveyed her options and gingerly selected a smallish spoon from the middle. Lentils were small, so she figured it made sense to also use one of the smaller spoons for them.

    “Elona,” Madame Ritivia barked from her place in the middle of the table. “The caviar spoon is not used for lentils. The lentil spoon is.”

    “Sorry, Madame,” Elona said as she set down her spoon. She waited to see if there would be any more clarification to help her identify the lentil spoon, but apparently that was all the help Madame Ritivia was prepared to give. Well, if small wasn’t the answer, maybe she should go large instead? She picked up the    largest spoon, second one in from the right.

    “Lentil spoon, Elona. Not your salad spoon,” reiterated Madame Ritivia. Elona was miffed. How was she supposed to know which was which? Who ate salad with a spoon anyways? 

    She tried another. “Lentil spoon,” repeated Madame Ritivia. 

    She tried yet another. “That’s your caviar spoon again.”

    Maybe the one closest to the bowl? “Lentil spoon.”

    Elona had had enough. “Madame, pray tell which one is the lentil spoon? I’m afraid we use much simpler place settings in my household.” She did her best to sound like a noble, even if her table manners made clear she was anything but.

    “The outermost one. Was that so hard?” Madame Ritivia said as Elona finally wielded her lentil spoon. Just as she was about to finally dig in though, the servants came to pick up the plates. The first course was over and it was time for the second. 

    This time when the servant placed the finely chopped salad in front of her, Elona scrutinized her place setting to try to remember which one was the salad spoon.

    “It’s the largest one,” Camine whispered conspiratorially under her breath. “Just start from the outside and work your way in.”

    Elona threw a smile in her direction and took her first bite of food of the night. The salad was like nothing she’d ever had before. Crunchy fresh spinach combined with smooth goat cheese crumbles and caramelized red onions were not the usual fare at The Aviary. Bursts of pomegranate flavor as Elona bit down took the salad to the next level. She’d only had pomegranate once before, and that old dried up version was nothing compared to the ruby red jewels in front of her. 

    The rest of the dinner progressed in much the same fashion. The food was amazing and Madame Ritivia was discerning. While she called out the working class girls the most, even the highborn girls like Camine and Sylphia slipped up from time to time. Only Kyera seemed to have a complete grasp of palace dinner etiquette. Unsurprising considering she’d been eating at the palace for quite literally her entire life. It was amusing when Madame Ritivia finally gave up on correcting Hasim, though. There were only so many times she could say, “Ladies use a fork, not their hands,” before she finally threw her own hands up in the air. 

    The first time Tynan had a rotation with their group was uneventful. It was mostly introductions and hometowns. The one notable happening was when he seemed to purposefully use the wrong spoon for his chowder. Out of habit, Madame Ritivia had begun to correct him “The chowder spoon, not the…”  before she noticed whom she was actually correcting. Tynan paused with the spoon midway to this mouth, daring her to finish. “Ahh, excuse me, Your Highness, I didn’t realize.” A small smile played on his lips and he locked eyes with Elona as he continued eating his chowder with the incorrect spoon. Elona couldn’t help but smile in return. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as all the other highborn people she’d met. He seemed like he might even be...sweet. 

    Elona wasn’t the only one who took notice of this little gesture, though. Madame Ritivia doubled down on criticizing Elona afterwards. It seemed like Elona couldn’t even take a single breath without committing some kind of social suicide. 

    The next time Tynan joined them, Elona decided to expand the conversation past the normal stiff niceties. She needed to make an impression sometime if she wanted to have a chance of winning this thing.

    “Do you like to read, Your Majesty?” she asked. Tynan seemed surprised at her boldness. 

    “Yes, actually the library room is quite possibly my favorite room in the entire Waecare.” For the first time that night, he seemed genuinely engaged. “I’m particularly fond of mysteries, but I read around. What about you?” 

    “I prefer adventures myself, but I appreciate a good mystery every now and then. Did you read that one with the runaway and the feather and-”

    “And the disappearing ostrich? That’s one of my new favorites!” Tynan was now gesturing animatedly. “No one else I know has read it! I didn’t realize one of our Seeds would be such a bookworm. I bet you were always reading under your desk, huh?” 

    Elona smiled. “Actually, I taught myself to read. I couldn’t go to school because I had to help out with the family business, but the bookstore owner in town lets me borrow books now and then in exchange for some light housekeeping.” 

    “I didn’t realize. I thought schooling was mandatory for all Waecarians.” Tynan’s deeper contemplation was interrupted by Kyera. She had noticed Elona and Tynan connecting and she wasn’t prepared to give up without a fight.

    “I for one absolutely read under the desk in school. What’s the name of that story you mentioned? I’ll have to check it out and maybe we can have our own little book club sometime.” Kyera reached out to stroke his forearm. As she did, she “accidentally” knocked over Elona’s wine glass.

    “Oh my god!” Elona exclaimed as she gasped and leapt up. The red wine covered the front of her bodice and her skirt so there was no hiding it. 

    Kyera grinned into her napkin. “Oops! I’m so sorry.” 

    Elona clenched her fists. “I’m sure I know just how sorry you are.” Which is not at all, she mentally added. 

    “Oh my, let me help!” Tynan grabbed his napkin and started dabbing all over Elona’s bodice and skirt. “Someone take her back to her room so she can change!” 

    Elona blushed as Tynan’s hands traversed her body. She knew he was just trying to help get the stain out, but that didn’t change how close his hands were to certain...sensitive areas of her body. Madame Ritivia had also taken notice of the positions of Tynan’s hands, and she was not pleased with this development.

    “But sire, tradition clearly dictates that Seeds must wear the attire they arrived in during the first dinner!” She didn’t want to allow anything else that might allow Elona to stand out, especially compared to her daughter.

    “Oh, for goodness sake, surely this seems like it warrants an exception, doesn’t it?” Tyan turned to Elona. “Go change. We’ll make sure you don’t miss anything.” Despite the situation, Elona couldn’t help the warm feeling that bloomed in her stomach. He was so unexpectedly thoughtful. Then she remembered the clothes she had in her trunk. There was no way she could come back in one of those get ups; he might think she’d done it on purpose so she could try to seduce him or something. She’d die of embarrassment. 

    “Um, I’m afraid I haven’t brought anything suitable. I was told we’d all get new clothes here to make sure we were all treated equally?” Elona gave up on trying to save her clothes and instead wrung her hands in front of her anxiously.

    Tynan’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Really? Nothing? Perhaps you could borrow something from someone else here in that case.” Camine looked like she was about to volunteer but Madame Ritivia interjected before she could.

    “I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly allow that, sire. Impose on one of the other Seeds simply because of her clumsiness? No, I think she needs to figure this one out on her own. After all, part of seeing whether or not she’s fit to be your consort is seeing how she handles herself in such predicaments.” 

“Figure it out,” Elona repeated incredulously.

    “Yes. It seems like your choices at this point are to either change into whatever you do have or excuse yourself from dinner. Sitting here in wine-stained attire is simply untenable.” Madame Ritivia smirked, confident she had just checkmated Elona into an early surrender. 

    Elona thought for a beat. “To clarify, the objectionable issue here is my wine-stained clothes?”

    Madame Ritivia pinched her nose. “Yes, of course that is the issue. I don’t know how to say it any clearer.”

    Elona stared at her hands and weighed her options. Then she took a deep breath and began unbuttoning her dress. The underclothes she had on now provided more coverage than anything Madame Divi had stuffed into that chest, and her plain scullery clothes were sturdy enough that none of the wine had soaked through yet. 

    Madame Ritivia sputtered as Elona let her dress puddle on the floor and stepped out of it. The dark gray satin slip she had on underneath didn’t provide nearly as much coverage as her clothes had, but it still covered everything important. The satin did have a way of clinging to every curve and dip of her body, though, so Elona still felt quite naked, but she did her best not to let her vulnerability show on her face. Everyone else stared agog as she reclaimed her seat. 

    “May I have some water, please?” she asked as she held out her glass to the nearest servant. When he took it and strode off to find the nearest water pitcher, she turned to the rest of the table. “Now, I didn’t think this would be an issue, but if someone as skilled with palace etiquette as Kyera can spill a glass of wine on me, I suppose I have to make it clear. I would like to ask all of you to please refrain from spilling any more wine in my direction as I really don’t have enough layers to do this more than once. Just in case, I will be switching to water all the same.” 

    Queen Zannia couldn’t stop the short burst of laughter that escaped her, but she quickly concealed her mirth behind her hand. King Firzen didn’t seem to share her amusement, though; angry looking blotches covered his face. Tynan, for his part, looked both impressed and intrigued. For some reason, he also seemed less capable of making eye contact than before. Elona wondered why he seemed to be looking under her chin instead of into her eyes like before. Had some of the wine actually managed to sneak through? 

    Noticing Elona’s uneasiness, Tynan immediately stood up. “It seems you’re a bit chilly, m’lady. Please allow me to offer you my coat.” 

    Chilly? What did he mean? And why would that mean he would be looking dow-   f**k.

    With the extra chill from the wine and decreased coverage, her n*****s had come to attention. The satin slip was so thin that they were clearly visible as they poked through the fabric. Reflexively, Elona crossed her arms as she stood up so Tynan could slip his coat over her shoulders. 

    “Sire, I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” Madame Ritivia began, but she was immediately shut up by the intense look Tynan threw her away. 

    “Your previous objection was that you didn’t want to take from the other Seeds for fear of disadvantaging them, right? Well, this is my coat AND my Reaping and I think I shall do as I please.” Knowing she was outplayed, Madame Ritivia shut her mouth and cut her losses. There was still plenty of time to win the war even if she lost this battle.

    Thanks to the protection of Tynan’s coat, Elona managed to get through the rest of dinner. The minute the last course had been cleared, though, she excused herself to her room to hide instead of remaining for the after dinner social hour. She figured she had made enough of an impression tonight. 

    Before she could slip through the door, she was stopped by a gentle hand on her elbow. “Stealing on your first night at the Waecare? Not off the best start, are we?”

    Elona gaped at Tynan, wracking her brains to figure out what he might be talking about. “Stealing? I didn’t take anything, I promise, I don’t know-”

    Tynan chuckled and cut her off. “My coat? Were you really going to leave without returning it?”

    Elona heaved a sigh of relief. He was joking. “Of course, here you go.” She began to let the coat slide off so that she could hand it over. Tynan grabbed the coat before it was halfway down her arms and replaced it onto her shoulders. 

    “I was just joking, m’lady.” His hands descended to close the first button. Elona swore she could feel the lightest of caresses on her n*****s through the jacket as he took his time pushing the button through the buttonhole. “I couldn’t take this from you now. I wouldn’t want anybody else to see you this way, would I?” Finished with the button, he tilted Elona’s head up to meet his gaze.

    Elona didn’t miss the slight emphasis on “anybody else” or the way his eyes flicked to her chest when he said “like this.” Unable to catch her breath, she finally tore her face out of his gentle grip and walked quickly towards the maid that waited at the end of the hallway. She pondered the meaning of these gentle emphases for the rest of the night until exhaustion and sleep finally took her. She was so exhausted, in fact, that she didn’t stir from her slumber when someone else slipped into her room as she slept.