Black Magic

Chapter 30: Feast

ASTRID'S POV

The long, lavishly decorated table was filled with an array of delectable dishes, and the air was filled with the clinking of silverware and the muffled chatter of guests. I stood at the center of attention, my heart pounding in my chest.

My father raised his glass high, his deep voice resonating through the grand hall. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate this sumptuous feast but also to toast to a new chapter in the lives of two remarkable young individuals."

My breath caught in my throat as the general's eyes met mine, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Christopher, my dear boy, and my lovely daughter, Astrid, have recently become engaged!" The room erupted in applause and cheers, but my smile quickly faded, replaced by shock and disbelief.

My father chuckled beside me, leaning in to whisper reassurances. "Don't worry, my dear. You're marrying a wealthy man. You'll be taken care of for the rest of your life."

My heart sank as the weight of those words settled on my shoulders. I had never dreamed of a life confined to wealth and privilege, but rather one filled with adventure and the pursuit of my own passions. The realization hit me like a gust of cold wind, stealing the breath from my lungs.

As the applause died down, Christopher's grandmother, a regal lady with silver hair and sparkling eyes, stepped forward. Her voice carried the weight of tradition and expectation. "Astrid, my dear, you will make a splendid addition to our family. I've longed for a woman with your grace and intelligence to stand by my grandson's side."

Panic welled up inside me, threatening to consume my composure. I searched the room for an escape, my eyes darting from face to face, but all I saw were smiling relatives and curious onlookers. The pressure to conform, to fit into this predetermined mold, became suffocating.

I took a step back, my voice trembling as I finally found the courage to speak. "Please, everyone, I... I appreciate your kind words and warm wishes, but I'm not ready for marriage. I have dreams, aspirations that reach far beyond these walls. I want to explore the world, learn, and grow as an individual."

Silence hung heavy in the air, and my words echoed through the grand hall. Christopher's grandmother's smile faltered, replaced by a mixture of surprise and disappointment. The guests exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of how to respond to my defiance.

But in that moment, as the weight of expectation threatened to crush me, a spark of determination ignited within. I stood taller, my voice gaining strength. "I beg of you, please understand that my heart belongs to the pursuit of knowledge and adventure, not to the confines of a gilded cage."

The room remained silent, the air thick with tension. And then, unexpectedly, a soft smile spread across Christopher's face. He stepped forward, taking my hand in his. "Astrid, my love, I have always admired your spirit and thirst for life. I want nothing more than to see you flourish, to be by your side as you chase your dreams. Let us enjoy on this journey together, hand in hand, and defy the expectations of others."

As Christopher's hand slipped from mine, confusion and apprehension mirrored in his eyes. My father's glare pierced through me, his voice a venomous whisper that cut through the air. "Astrid, you have no choice in this matter. You will do as I say."

Torn between my heart's desires and the weight of my father's expectations, I glanced toward the corner of the room where Thomas stood. His eyes met mine, filled with a mixture of longing and understanding. In that moment, I knew that my feelings for him ran deeper than mere friendship.

"AH! Thomas my boy, come over here and clean the table and wash the dishes." As my father's commanding voice echoed through the hall, I watched in dismay as Thomas, the man I loved, was summoned and ordered to perform his duties as a servant once more. 

Anger surged within me, mingling with the ache in my heart. I wanted to protest, to defend Thomas against such injustice, but the weight of my father's authority kept me rooted in place.

Thomas spoke with a huge smile, "WELL OF COURSE, MY FAVORRRRRRITE GENERAL, MY WISH IS YOUR COMMAND"

Everyone started laughing in a mocking way.

Christopher's grandmother spoke, "Make sure it's all clean, now pour me wine whoever you are, I can't let anyone's hands here tainted"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I witnessed Thomas bowing his head in obedience, his eyes darting briefly to meet mine, filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. It tore me apart to see him reduced to a position that was far beneath his true worth.

I felt a fire ignite within me, a fierce determination to challenge the oppressive norms that held us captive. But in that moment, I was paralyzed by the constricting grip of societal expectations, unable to break free from the chains that bound me.

As the feast continued, I sat at the table, surrounded by people who were unaware of the turmoil raging within me. Christopher, with a heavy heart, attempted to engage me in conversation, but my mind was consumed by the injustice unfolding before my eyes.

My father's voice boomed once more, his tone laced with superiority. "Thomas, serve the dessert to our guests. And remember your place."

Thomas nodded silently, his eyes avoiding mine, and began to distribute the dishes with practiced efficiency. Each step he took, each dish he served, felt like a blow to my heart. I longed to stand up, to confront my father and demand justice for the man I loved. But fear and uncertainty held me captive.

In that moment, as I sat there, trapped by tradition and duty, my love for Thomas only grew stronger. I vowed silently that I would find a way to free him from the shackles of servitude, to fight against the oppressive structures that sought to separate us.

I stared in shock and horror as Thomas, pushed to his breaking point, crawled atop the table, disregarding the decorum of the feast. 

Gasps of disbelief and murmurs of disgust rippled through the room, a wave of disapproval crashing over us.

He reached for a goblet filled with wine, his hands trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. Without a moment's hesitation, he brought it to his lips and drank deeply, the liquid spilling down his chin. 

The room fell into a hushed silence, broken only by the sound of Thomas biting into a loaf of bread, tearing at it with a raw intensity.

I wanted to cry out, to call him back, but my voice caught in my throat. The weight of societal judgment bore down on me, suffocating any impulse to intervene. I watched helplessly as Thomas stepped down from the table, his eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and pain.

"Congratulations, Astrid," he uttered bitterly, his voice laced with sorrow. "May this be a joyous day for you, but forgive me if I find it to be a gloomy one." He laughed. With those words hanging in the air, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a resounding finality.

The room erupted in anger, the guests expressing their disdain and outrage at Thomas's bold act. My father's face turned crimson with fury, his voice booming as he berated the servant's audacity. The weight of their judgment pressed upon me, crushing me with guilt and heartache.

"What a disgusting boy!" Christopher's grandmother spoke.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I realized the consequences of my inaction. I had allowed the love of my life to be pushed to such extremes, forced to expose his pain and frustration in a desperate bid for liberation. The pain in my chest intensified, a heavy ache that mirrored the weight of my guilt.