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[sub][color=AABFB5]C A S T L E   D I N N I N G   H A L L  |  E V E N I N G[/color][/sub]
[sub][color=gray]I n t e r a c t i o n s : Torvi [@Tae]
M e n t i o n s :
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Mathias smiled nervously under the sharp, glacial gaze of the silver-haired woman. [color=94b0c4]“I must apologize,”[/color] he said, glancing briefly at her name tag. [color=94b0c4]“Miss Jur-Jorviksdottir. I fear I may have already eaten one, and the other…”[/color]

His voice trailed off. He’d taken the second pastry in quiet memory of his late wife, but that was a sentiment better left unspoken here and now. Instead, he offered a sheepish smile. [color=94b0c4]“I’m halfway through. But I’d be glad to offer my non-servant services and fetch a replacement, for both of you, if you’d like.”[/color]

At that moment, Lady Lesdeman rose without a word and left their taBLE, leaving behind her untouched mead. One by one, others around the table began to drift away as well. Mathias blinked, belatedly realizing just how late his arrival had been. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, he wasn’t quite sure.

His eyes brightened when another knight, clearly about to offer him a drink, opened her mouth to speak, but the moment passed before she could get the words out. Mathias's gaze flicked back to the mead. Would Lady Lesdeman mind if he stole it?

Then came the yelp.

The sound cut through the air, followed by a flurry of motion. Mathias watched the Grand Vizier all but slap a dog from his person. The knight cringed, his mouth tightening as he spotted Stratya rising from her seat and moving toward the man with purpose.

[color=94b0c4]“It says much about a man, how he treats animals,”[/color] Mathias said, more to himself than anyone else, though Torvi was near enough to hear. His voice held a quiet bitterness. [color=94b0c4]“Innocent creatures deserve better.”[/color] He hesitated, then added, [color=94b0c4]“Not that I’ve heard many kind things about him, frankly.”[/color]

He wasn’t the sort to speak ill of nobles, he knew well enough that halls like these had ears, but some things deserved to be said, caution be damned.

[color=94b0c4]“Are Caesonian banquets always this lively?”[/color] he mused aloud, his eyes drifting once more to the abandoned glass of mead.

[color=94b0c4]“She wouldn’t mind, would she?”[/color]

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Standing, Mathias leaned across the table and retrieved the drink, fingers curling around the cool glass. But just as he lowered himself back into his chair, the hall fell into an abrupt, unnatural hush.

He froze mid-motion.

The atmosphere had shifted. He could feel it pressing against his skin.

Slowly, Mathias lifted his gaze toward the source of the silence. His posture straightened, and his expression hardened, brows furrowed, jaw tight, every sense alert. Everything of what he saw felt wrong. 

[color=94b0c4]“Miss Jorviksdottir,”[/color] he said quietly, eyes not leaving the growing tension across the hall, [color=94b0c4]“I think this banquet has just come to an official end.”[/color]

He raised the glass and drained it in one go. Whatever was coming, he’d prefer to meet it with a buzz warming the edges of his mind.


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