Moonchild (BL)

The banquet

ON THE SECOND MONTH of our stay, a banquet was held in the dining hall. The palace was abuzz with rushing servants and anticipating courtiers. The great hall glowed with the light of countless candles, their flames dancing and flickering against the ornate gold walls. A long, richly decorated table stretched the length of the room, laden with an array of delectable dishes and shimmering goblets. The air was thick with the heady scent of exotic spices and fine wine.

"Isn't it too late for them to hold a revel for our welcome?" Norwin jested as we sauntered towards the elongated table, chuckling at his own humor.

"I do not think it is for us, Norwin." Herard grinned, entertaining the youngest's foolhardy.

I only rolled my eyes, secretly grateful for my brothers' company as I squirmed in my blue fitted jacket worn over a shirt, draped by a doublet stitched with golden lines that formed random symbols as they swirled. It was one of Luan's princely garments. He tasked courtiers to help me and my brothers dress up, cut our hair, and trim us down. I remembered how he smirked as we both stood in front of the bedroom's mirror, eyes gazing at me up and down through the reflection.

"I thought vampires are supposed to have no reflection," he would comment.

"An obvious hoax," I'd reply, staring back.

"Well, you look stunning," he'd say before planting a soft peck on my cheeks. I also remembered how I blushed and attempted to protest but to no avail, for he was already leaving the room.

We were told to sit on the right side of the table, near the royal family and alongside the wardens. Not far from me, my eyes landed upon the first prince, Lucian, and there was a desire within me to offer him a greeting. Yet the memory of his persistent gloom throughout the day served as a chilling reminder. His dark scowls and lackluster participation in our lessons spoke volumes of a grave matter that had burdened him since dawn. Instead, I glanced towards Josiah, two seatings away from me, perched beside Jacques. They both managed to flash me a friendly smile before Luan Sainte arrived, sat right beside me, blocking my view of them. I frowned, shifted my gaze towards him, and was immediately rendered in a blushing gape.

The colors of his doublet and the outline of his cloak matched the icy haze of his blue eyes perfectly. His white hair was pushed back, revealing his forehead, giving him a neat look of utmost authority. He looked ethereal. I had seen Luan Sainte in fanciful clothes but not as fancy as the one he had been wearing.

Amid my fascination, I noticed the drawings of his garment swirled like the one's on mine, and the shade of his fitted jacket greatly resembled what I wore. To anyone watching, we seemed to sport matching outfits. When he brandished his insufferable smirk, one he'd paraded every time he planned mischief, I figured out his schemes.

"I knew you were up to no good," I said, grimacing in distaste, trying to conceal my flushing cheeks in the process.

"Don't we look good?" He asked, grinning.

The banquet began with a flourish as servants bearing trays of food— that I heard one courtier call hors d'oeuvres— circulated among us. I gazed at the arriving dishes; a symphony of colors and textures that would likely delight the palates of even the most discerning gourmands. Everything seemed exquisite. All of them were unknown to me, of course. When Luan noticed my curiosity, he enumerated each arriving dish: lobster bisque, foie gras, caviar, and truffles. He did so in a low voice, directed only to me. If not for my heart's constant fluttering, I'd have enjoyed the food much better.

"Let's bet on how many of these I can fit in my mouth," Luan said amid eating, poking my shoulder to catch my attention. I looked and saw he was pertaining to the cornbread muffins perched on a silver tray right in front of us.