The Silver spoon
1414 Words
Chapter 5 — The Silver Spoon
The heavy oak door stayed shut until the sun had crossed the sky, leaving the room washed in cold blue light.
I spent the long hours pacing.
Fourteen steps from the wardrobe to the hearth. Nine more to the window. I walked the same path over and over until I no longer had to think about it. My boots brushed softly against the stone floor, and before long the sound became as familiar as my own breathing.
By the time the lock finally clicked, I knew every corner of the room.
A prisoner always learned the shape of their cage.
I stopped walking.
The door opened, but it wasn't Cassian.
Four Royal Guards stood in the hallway, their polished silver armor shining beneath the torchlight. Between them stood a tall, slender man wearing a velvet doublet the color of crushed plums. His silver-gray hair was neatly parted, and his pale hands looked more suited to turning the pages of a book than holding a sword.
His eyes settled on me.
For a brief moment, something cold crossed his face.
It looked like disgust.
Or maybe disappointment.
Whatever it was, it disappeared almost at once behind a smooth, practiced smile.
"Lady Arianna," he said with a graceful bow. "I am Duke Varn, Lord Regent of the High Council."
His voice was warm and calm, every word carefully chosen.
"I owe you an apology. Your journey from the Lower Ward was... less comfortable than I would have wished. My guards can be overzealous when they believe the Crown is in danger."
I didn't bow.
Instead, I slipped my hands into the pockets of my riding trousers and looked him straight in the eye.
"If you wanted to apologize," I said, "you could have started by not locking me in this room."
Duke Varn gave a soft laugh.
"I understand your frustration."
His smile never changed.
"But the kingdom is in a difficult position. Three members of the royal family have died within a few months. Until we knew you were safe, certain precautions had to be taken."
"My safety?"
"Of course."
He stepped aside and motioned toward the hallway.
"I've arranged a small dinner. Nothing formal. It's simply a chance to welcome the last of House Lowen back to where she belongs."
I looked past him.
Cassian wasn't there.
I couldn't explain why his absence bothered me, but it did. I didn't like his cold silence, yet I trusted Duke Varn's polite smile even less.
"I don't have much choice, do I?"
"Choice is a luxury very few people have inside this palace," Varn replied. "Even mine has its limits."
He gestured toward the corridor once more.
"If you'll come with me."
The guards fell into place around me as we walked.
They never touched me, but they stayed close enough that I could hear the quiet clink of chainmail beneath their armor.
The palace seemed to go on forever.
We climbed wide staircases beneath glittering crystal chandeliers. Portraits of long-dead kings watched from dark wooden frames, their painted eyes following us through every hallway.
No servants spoke.
No laughter echoed through the halls.
The palace was just as quiet as the room Cassian had locked me inside.
At last we stopped before a pair of heavy walnut doors carved with the crest of House Lowen.
The guards pulled them open.
Warm air drifted into the hallway, carrying the rich smell of roasted venison, melted butter, and sweet spices.
My empty stomach tightened.
The dining hall was smaller than I expected, but it was no less grand.
A long mahogany table stretched beneath rows of burning candles. Silver cutlery gleamed beside spotless white plates, and polished crystal caught the light from every flame.
Then I noticed something that made me stop.
The table was empty.
There were no council members.
No noble guests.
No welcoming feast.
Only one place had been set at the far end of the table beneath a wide stone arch.
"The others have been delayed by council business," Duke Varn said smoothly, as though he had read my thoughts.
"There is no reason for you to wait while your dinner grows cold."
He rested one hand lightly on the back of the chair.
"Please."
I hesitated before sitting.
The chair was carved from black walnut with a high back and deep crimson cushions. As I settled into it, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had wandered into someone else's place.
The moment I sat down, a servant stepped quietly out of the shadows carrying a silver serving dome.
Without saying a word, he lifted it.
Steam drifted from a thick slice of roasted venison covered in a dark wine sauce. Roasted potatoes glistened with butter and herbs, and fresh bread rested beside the plate. A polished silver goblet stood next to it, filled almost to the brim with deep red wine.
"A favorite from the southern valleys," Duke Varn said. "It travels well and keeps away the chill."
He didn't join me at the table. Instead, he remained beside the fireplace with his hands resting behind his back. His smile never changed as he watched me from across the room.
I looked from him to the goblet.
The polished silver reflected my face in a blurred shape. My mouth felt dry. The smell of the roasted meat filled the room, but the sweet scent of the wine caught my attention even more.
Slowly, I reached for the goblet.
The cool silver felt smooth in my hand as I lifted it from the table. The dark red wine caught the candlelight while I raised it toward my lips.
Before the rim touched my mouth, a black-gloved hand closed around my wrist with enough force to stop me. At the same moment, another hand struck the bottom of the goblet and knocked it from my fingers.
The cup slid across the polished table before crashing onto the pale wool rug. Red wine splashed across the floor, soaking into the carpet.
I pulled my hand back and stared at the man standing beside me.
"What are you doing?"
Cassian stood next to my chair as though he had been there the whole time. I hadn't heard him enter the room. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but his eyes stayed fixed on the dark stain spreading across the rug.
"My apologies, Lord Regent," he said calmly. "Lady Arianna's wrists are still weak from the ropes. She lost her grip."
I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn't true.
Then I noticed the carpet.
Thin white steam curled up from the spilled wine. The pale wool began to hiss, and the fibers slowly turned black before shrinking into a sticky gray paste.
The sweet smell of fruit disappeared, replaced by a sharp smell that burned the back of my throat.
I pushed my chair away from the table and stumbled back.
That wasn't wine.
It was acid.
If Cassian hadn't stopped me, I would have swallowed it.
I looked at the ruined carpet and then at the silver goblet lying on its side.
No one looked shocked.
The servant stood where he was without saying a word. The guards didn't move. Duke Varn simply looked down at the damaged rug and let out a quiet sigh.
"What a pity," he said. "That rug came from the Free Cities."
He watched the carpet for another moment before looking at Cassian.
"It seems the wine cellar has become careless. The bottle must have spoiled."
"Apparently," Cassian replied.
His face gave away nothing.
"I'll have fresh food sent to Lady Arianna's chambers. She will take her meals there from now on."
Duke Varn nodded.
"I think that is a sensible precaution."
His smile returned as easily as before.
"I hope this unfortunate mistake won't leave you with a poor opinion of the palace, Lady Arianna."
I looked at him without speaking for a moment.
"Mistake?" I asked quietly. "You expected me to drink it."
His expression never changed.
"I expected you to enjoy your dinner. The palace kitchens will answer for their carelessness."
His voice sounded calm and believable, but I didn't believe a single word.
Cassian didn't answer either.
The silence between the two men filled the room.
After a few moments, Duke Varn stepped away from the fireplace.
"I won't keep either of you any longer," he said. "Rest well, my lady. We'll try again tomorrow."
- Writer
