Cursed by your love

Morning among wolves

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The grand dining room of Blackwood Castle was alive with candlelight and the clinking of silverware. The long oak table was filled with the entire Sterling-Windsor family, a rare and tense occasion.

Lord Alistair sat at the head, his presence commanding. To his right sat Alexander, cold and silent. Marcus sat across from him, a faint smirk playing on his lips. Julian was further down, his wife Mary beside him, their twins Elijah and Evelyn seated between them. Adrian sat with practiced composure, observing everything. Theodore sat at the far end. Lady Agnes, Marcus's mother, sat with regal posture, her sharp eyes scanning the room. And Theodore's mother, Lady Arabella, sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap.

The table was laden with food: eggs, bacon, sausages, black pudding, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, toast, and a platter of kippers. The scent of smoked herring mingled with the rich aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread.

Lady Agnes looked around the table, her brow furrowed. "Oh, where is the bride? I don't see her."

She let out a dramatic sigh. "I suppose she's still having her little vacation in the clinic."

Alexander's jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to respond—

"Alexander," Lord Alistair cut him off sharply. "Eat your breakfast."

Alexander's mouth snapped shut. His eyes were cold, but he said nothing.

Mary, Julian's wife, set down her fork and spoke up, her voice laced with false sweetness. "Isn't it such a coincidence? On the wedding day, Alexander almost got poisoned. Wow."

The table fell silent.

Marcus slammed his knife down, his eyes flashing with cold fury. "Oh, lovely thing to say. I bet you don't know what a real marriage looks like. You just think you fit into this family because you're sitting at our table."

Mary's face flushed red. Julian stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor.

"Marcus—"

"Enough!"

Lord Alistair's voice thundered through the room like a c***k of lightning. The silverware trembled. Everyone froze.

Lord Alistair's cold eyes swept across the table, landing on each of his sons in turn.

"I will not have this family tear itself apart," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We are Sterling-Windsors. We stand together. We survive together."

He turned to Mrs. Higgins, who stood trembling in the corner.

"Mrs. Higgins," he said, his voice calm. "Did you add any conflict to your recipe today?"

Mrs. Higgins blinked, confused. "I—no, my lord. I followed the recipe exactly."

Lord Alistair let out a low chuckle. "Good. Because if you had, I would have been very disappointed. Your cooking is the only thing in this castle that hasn't tried to kill anyone."

The room was silent. No one laughed. The joke hung in the air, dead and cold.

Alexander spoke up, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"I think Mary is right," he said, his eyes fixed on his father. "Tell me, why did I almost get poisoned on the night of my wedding? Especially when I was marrying a Hart-Ashford?"

Before Lord Alistair could answer, Marcus cut in, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Oh really, brother? You really think she poisoned you? That's quite interesting..." He leaned forward, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Her father killed your mother, and now you think she wants to kill you?"

Lady Agnes turned to Marcus sharply. "Marcus."

Marcus shrugged, still smiling. What?"I'm just saying, it might actually be a coincidence. Like Mary said."

Lord Alistair slammed his hand on the table.

"Enough!" he roared. "The waiter is already in custody. In the meantime, we will find out who poisoned the wine."

The room went quiet. Everyone held their breath.

Then Adrian spoke. For the first time all night. He looked at the cook, his voice calm and detached.

"Can I have more bacon?"

Julian scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "You really should have more bacon, Adrian. That's literally all you know. What do you even contribute? Nothing."

Adrian, his glasses glinting in the candlelight, just stared at him. His expression didn't change. He turned back to the cook.

"Bacon, please."

Mrs. Higgins bowed quickly. "Sure, my Lord."

Mary burst out laughing. The sound cut through the tension like a knife.

Lord Alistair's face darkened. He rose from his seat, his presence looming over the table.

"This dinner is over," he said coldly. "I will not sit here and watch my family devour itself."

He walked out, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

The brothers ate in silence. One by one, they rose and left.