The Crowned (h.s)

III

It was with empty stomachs and tired limbs that we all prepared to continue the night with the feast that had been fixed just below our feet in the kitchen quarters. As always, our family's kitchen staff had been sent to the State Building a day before with trays of food in stowe and even more deliveries to receive and hours to work. Our head cook, Mrs. Northcott, had worked for our family for years and had taken her mother's position after her passing when I was only a child. One of our most loyal workers, her work for the State Dinners was always savory and above par of anything else.

This year was no different. On my mother's final orders, 12 courses. Canapés topped in relishes, caviars, and buttery meats had gone around the ballroom on crystal platters before dinner was called. With these and a good amount of champagne circulating around the floor, everyone was in good spirits.

After the final waltz, we had entered the grand dining room and took seats at tables that stretched the whole of the room and were covered in embroidered silk that my mother had ordered directly from India. Crocuses and orchids, freshly cut and arranged in wild grasses filled the room with a sweet, airy scent.

On my entering, I found myself escorted to the table by Harry, who had practically refused to leave my side the whole evening. While I was on the floor during my dances with others, he had never taken another partner. Instead, he became a wallflower on my separation from him and I observed him strangely as he stayed on the outskirts of the room, staring at me with an intensity in his eyes that I found unsettling. Only when I took my breaks to rest my legs or take a drink did he escort a different woman for a dance.

My arm hooked in his, we walked to the head table, a mere rounded 10-seat arrangement in comparison to the long stretches of seating behind us. I found on the seating cards that I was seated between him and Felix. Directly across from me was my mother who sat beside William and had the King of Prylia to her right.

Our tradition had the dining bell rung once the entire room was filled with laughter and conversation and it at once called the room to silence. Then, the servers began to shuffle in carrying platters of clear soup. To compliment the second course, trays of olives and saucisson de Lyon.

On my father's first swallow, the rest of us could indulge ourselves. I could feel Felix eyeing me hesitantly from my right. My lips perked up in a small smile. One must always work their way in when using their cutlery. The first spoon on my right, the soup spoon. I place my hand on it while looking at him casually before picking it up to begin eating. My youngest brother was eager to please, but procedure always failed him. Much like it failed me. In that, we held common ground.

The polite dinner chatter could commence.

I sat in polite silence while waiting for someone to take me up in conversation. However, Harry was busying speaking in quiet tones to his mother and Felix was too caught up in ensuring his still hand didn't splash soup on his jacket or on the tablecloth. I took a few small sips, following my mother's lead in never eating too much of one thing or else risking not being able to eat during every course, which was considered by her, a great impropriety. I rested my hands on the linen in my lap and made myself appear interested by gazing up at the glass and crystals hanging above us, the chandelier sending back at me a twisted version of my reflection.

Across from me, my mother listened intently to the King of Prylia as he spoke with wild hand gestures that I could tell she was trying her hardest not to comment on. I bit my lip to avoid laughing, but one small giggle escaped my lips before I could cover my mouth.

"I do hope that wasn't a laugh at my father's expense."

Turning, I found Harry's eyes on me. I blinked rapidly and felt the redness on my cheeks begin to blossom. When he said nothing else nor smiled to let me know he was in jest, I knew he was expecting an answer out of me. My discomfort was showing as I wiggled in my chair, my mind running circles in deciding what to say.