Heirs of the Gods

Ch 2.2: A silver lining

TW: VIOLENCE, VERBAL ABUSE AND DEROGATORY LANGUAGE

Harrion Blackwell liked to keep up appearances. This is why when he pulled Ella aside as the guests filed into the dining hall for dinner, for all intents and purposes, it looked like the great Duke was having a mild conversation with his soon-to-be-wed eldest daughter.

Whether the guests noticed the way his fist coiled around Ella's thin arm or the way his smile was too tight was anyone's guess. No one batted an eye and Ella knew better than to draw attention to them, instead she kept her face carefully devoid of any emotion. 

"I hope you'll remember to behave yourself." His voice was a harsh whisper, despite the polite smile never faltering. "I will not have you making a spectacle in front of our guests." His breath reeked of mead and whiskey. As usual. 

Ella plastered a tight smile on her face. "I wouldn't dream of it, Harrion."

The grip on her arm coiled further. She resisted a pained grimace. "Watch your mouth, child. I can make your lasts months here miserable, do not test me."

A courtier from another court passed by and called a greeting, Harrion inclined his head beatifically in return. Ella's mouth turned up automatically, practised and precise. 

He gave her a last sharp glance. "Go now, and do not even think of making a fool out of me. I'll remind you how that ended the last time." He squeezed her arm for good measure and marched towards the dining hall.

Ella had a split second to compose herself before she went right along into the dining hall, ignoring her mother's concerned looks and discreetly clasping her hands together to stave off the slight tremors.

How could she forget?

The remainders from the last time she vexed Harrion enough to warrant his wrath were still there. Ella had to sleep on her stomach for over a week. A punishment for talking back and protesting the month before, when he'd signed her engagement contract and forced her to sign as well. 

The grand dining hall was already full of guests chattering about. Long, broad tables illuminated by golden candleholders spread throughout, laden with the finest linens, the richest foods, fruits and wines. Golden turkeys, stuffed chicken, baskets full of breads, spreads of cheese, the most exquisite meads and ales. Lord Harrion Blackwell delighted in any good opportunity to showcase his riches. 

Ella took her place at the main table, in the middle of the room. At the head stood Harrion, to his left Grayson, his advisor Lord Avesbury, Ella's mother and Rosemary. The right side of the main table and the one next to that side had been set apart for the Pendergolds and their own guests. The rest filled the other broad tables dispersed throughout.

"You, more wine," Jonas Pendergold called to a young server, without even looking at him.

He was speaking to a dignitary from his own court, jostling the goblet and making it difficult for the poor boy to adequately serve the wine. It was obvious the server was already terrified of dealing with the Duke. With good reason, Jonas' spasmodic movements caused the servant boy to spill a bit of the crimson liquid. Mercifully, it fell to the floor and missed his lavish garments.

Still, that didn't appease Jonas. "Stupid little fool, look what you've done!" The young boy whimpered and cowered. "You've spilled the wine and barely missed my robes!" He sneered and lifted a hand as if to backhand the boy.

The boy covered his head and ducked, squeaking, "Please m'lord, it was a mistake! I beg of you!" He was shaking like a leaf.

Jonas and the dignitary, as well as a couple of others, cackled. "Clean it up, little worm," he said simply, looking down at the boy as if he were a smear on the floor.