How to court a storm | 𝘈𝘯 𝘐𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘢𝘪 𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭

(18)

As I step further into the office, my eyes are immediately drawn to a table adorned with an array of pastries and desserts. The sight is unexpected, and I find myself momentarily perplexed. Who is it for?

I don't particularly remember him enjoying sweet things.

Though, what do I know.

The table is adorned with a white tablecloth, crisp and pristine, contrasting with the colourful assortment of confections that rest upon it. Creamy eclairs with their golden crusts beckon invitingly, alongside dainty fruit tarts adorned with vibrant berries. Delicate macarons in an assortment of hues create a mosaic of sweetness, while miniature cakes topped with intricate designs showcase the artistry behind each creation.

There's such an abundance of it that the air is infused with it, along with the aroma of freshly brewed tea, wafting gently from the delicate porcelain teacups that accompany the spread. The fragrant steam rises gracefully, intertwining with the scents of the pastries, creating an ambience of indulgence and elegance.

I stand in silent contemplation, my mind grappling to comprehend the purpose of such a lavish arrangement. It seems incongruous in the austere confines of my his highness's office, a space that exudes formality and business. I cannot fathom him having a fondness for such decadent treats, and yet, here they are, laid out before me.

My curiosity piqued, I cautiously approach the table, studying the intricate details of each dessert. I sit down, pulling the sword at the hip to place beside me.

The lord seems to take notice to my movement. "I hadn't realised you were interested in swordsmanship." He takes a sip of his tea, and it's almost palpable to see him pretend to take an interest in anything relating to me. "I could've hired you an instructor."

I cross my legs and twine my fingers together. "Is that what you called me here for, your highness?" I cock my head. "To offer me connections to an instructor who could help me become a good swordswoman?"

I don't even bother to tell him no one he knows could have anything to teach me. At least not anything that interests me.

When he doesn't reply, I look down to the table and pick up my own tea cup. The sip of hot, flavoured tea warms my tongue. Jasmine. "I must say, I find you calling me here out of your busy day to be surprising." I push the cup to my lips again. "And I find it even more surprising that neither of us are being chaperoned."

I see a pulse in the side of his head as his eyes narrow. "Chaperon? Why would I need one to meet you, Nirvana?"

I instinctually flinch at the use of my name.

With a sigh, I part my lips. Leave no survivors it is then.

As I sit before the archduke, Lord Lucien, a cool detachment settles upon me. The words that escape my lips carry a hurt that I know does not belong to me, masked by a veneer of indifference.

I am sorry I can't salvage this relationship, Nirvana.

"Please tell me the reason for my summon, your majesty." I prompt. "I do not wish for you to waste your time with someone whose presence you merely tolerate."

He doesn't so much as give me an expression.

I'm not sure what's worse? To have your father actively hate you, or to learn doesn't care about you enough to hate you?