Lysandra had one more look at the room. One thing was missing, or rather someone, the Duke. Disregarding his absence, Lysandra went over to the table. It was set with dinnerware that was so fine, she feared touching it might break it. How did such fine dinnerware end up here? There were only two seats set for dinner. One on each side of the table. The chair Lysandra walked up to was too heavy for her to move. The room came closing in on her. It looked clean enough but smelt like it hadn't been used in a while. It was a scent that couldn't be done away with in a single cleaning session. It was stuffy.
Anxious about whether she should sit. Lysandra turned to Tara who kindly nodded towards the seat she was standing by. She gave the maid a small smile before she took her seat without moving the chair. When seated she fixed her dress. She tried not to show that her shoulders were starting to get cold. Why was this part of the wing so cold? Was it the snow outside? It certainly hadn't been cold inside her bedroom. It had been warm enough there. Now what?
Lysandra just sat there wondering if she should speak up. Where was the duke? Time was ticking by, Tara had even left the dining room, presumingly to check something. Yet Lysandra just sat there. Suddenly she heard a loud thumping sound coming from behind her. She bit down her lip as the sound of steps got louder. As the steps almost seemed to reach the doors, there was a second set of lighter and quicker steps following behind.
Without warning the dining room doors flew open. Lysandra jumped up in her chair and quickly turned her head around. Standing in the doorframe was the hulking figure of what could only be the Duke.
Did he grow even taller?
The man had a scowl on his face as he looked at her. With large strides he walked over to his chair on the other side of the table. Being in Lysandra's full view she could see his outfit. It was all black with some splashes of blue. A livery collar worn over a tunic that was made of possibly the heaviest, most out-dated fabric Lysandra ever did see. To top the outfit off the Duke even wore a one shoulder cape complete with draped fur that had seen better days. When she had barged into his office, she had been too angry to notice his features. The Duke himself had somewhat of a tan, nowhere near that of the tanned guard who guided her to his office. Still, Lysandra hadn't expected the Duke to have one. In her mind she had imagined him pale, lifeless like a demon. Without as much as a greeting, the man sat down, not taking his eyes off Lysandra.
Tara came back in not much later. Her face was red and her eyes wet. The maid quickly seemed to recollect herself as she straightened her dress and rang a bell. "Dinner will be served shortly." She announced. Her voice shook.
Lysandra had picked up on the shakiness in the maid's voice. Had the Duke yelled at her? He wouldn't hurt a maid right? She still hadn't seen Daisy and was starting to fear for her.
Lysandra was unable to form any sentence to say to the Duke. He had charged in. He had been late to their first dinner. To top it off he was staring at her, keeping watch over her like a hawk. His gaze was cold. There wasn't a glimmer of joy in his eyes. She nervously put her hands on her lap. She regarded the Duke. Was he a giant? Or just really tall? It made her feel small for once. Back in the capital men would only be slightly taller than her. With very few exceptions existing to that. Lysandra inherited her height from fathers side of the family. Even with her father being tall, the Duke was clearly taller than her father.
The Duke's jawline alone would be strong enough to kill a man. He wasn't necessarily ugly. She had expected him to be less pleasing to the eye. Lysandra might have considered him handsome if he didn't dress well—like an outdated black peacock. Was he attending a funeral? The man's hair was long, all the way down his shoulders. Did men in the North not take pride in cutting their hair? There was also the matter of the dark circles under his eyes. For a man who only sat at his desk, he sure looked exhausted.
As the food rolled in on a cart under Tara's careful eye. The creaking of the cart wheels was the only thing that was breaking the uncomfortable silence. Tara walked over to Lysandra first, placing a plate in front of her. "For tonight, as a starter, we have a selection of cold cuts of meat paired with some fruit and croutons." It was a dish that resembled what would be served in the capital, as a dessert. The maid then walked over to the other side of the table and pulled what could only be named an overfilled bowl with—dried meat? It looked leathery. "The usual, your Grace." Tara's response was short. The maid sounded almost scared.
Without exchanging a single word the Duke grabbed a piece of the dried meat from the bowl with his bare hands. He didn't seem too interested in starting any form of a conversation. The Duke bit into the jerky, briefly showing what seemed to be pearly white teeth. There was no bon appetit or anything else. Hasn't anyone taught him any manners?
Lysandra lifted her arm to grab her fork. She looked down at her plate, dessert. It wasn't as if she disliked being served this meal. But it was unusual to say the least. She grabbed her knife with her other hand. The ruffles of her dress were a hassle. She had to be mindful of them when taking a bite of the meat. Besides the sound of the two of them eating, it was silent. After finishing the presumed appetiser Lysandra had gathered the courage to ask the Duke something. "Y..your Grace" She stuttered as the empty plates were cleared off the table.
The Duke shoved his plate to the side for Tara to collect before looking back at Lysandra. "Yes?" His voice was deep. There was a slight grumble in it. Pinpointing his mood was hard.
Lysandra clenched her fists filled with the fabric of her dress underneath the table. After hearing how low his voice was she shivered. "I noticed my trunks with my belongings were returned to me. How did they arrive here so quickly?" Lysandra questioned. She hoped to thank whoever returned the trunks from that dreaded forest.
Leaning back, the Duke seemed to regard Lysandra for a good moment. His stare almost burned a hole through her. "Does it matter?" He grumbled and then looked at where Tara was standing, giving her a pointed look.
Lysandra noticed the way the man looked at the maid. He was ready to chop her head off. Lysandra quickly waved her hands in front of her as to distract the Duke. However with the dress she was wearing, her hands were barely visible. "Ah, no, no, not at all your Grace." She tried to remain calm. Her heart was beating in her throat.
The man huffed when Tara didn't give him any reaction. "If anything was forgotten just order it through Tara." His voice still had that odd rumble to it. He leaned forward in his seat. There was no return question. He didn't show interest in Lysandra. Yet his glare had shifted from Tara to her.
The next cart was rolling in and it wasn't a moment too soon. Tara served Lysandra first again. The maid gently placed a plate down in front of her. The contents on the plate were baffling. Served before Lysandra was a piece of duck liver which seemed to be pan seared and coated in a generous layer of red wine sauce.
Walking over to the Duke, Tara put down two plates. One loaded with what seemed to be boiled potatoes and some vegetables and on the other plate a comically large piece of meat was present. Once more the Duke started eating without proper greeting or wish. Lysandra would have preferred anything on the duke's plate. Especially since she dreaded the piece of meat on her own, duck. Lysandra did not like to eat duck. Of all the things the kitchen could have made for her it had to be duck. It was clear that they had been trying to make dishes from the capital. Similarly to the first meals that had been brought to her bedroom when she was recovering.
This duck was absolutely disgusting. Lysandra didn't like the taste, the texture, let alone the idea of eating any part of the animal. Due to her hate for the meat, she was always able to recognise it when duck was served. Poking the piece of meat with her fork, she looked over at the duke's plates. She was afraid to speak. What if the Duke made good on his reputation? He was almost ready to kill Tara over her previous question, so Lysandra couldn't take any risk. She cut off the smallest piece of liver and quickly put it in her mouth. Swallowing it and trying not to gag was a challenge. She felt the disgusting piece of meat go down her throat. Lysandra resorted to playing with her food. She pretended to eat, hoping it would go unnoticed. Having cut the liver into small pieces made it look like she had eaten some of it.
"Are you eating air?" The Duke's voice rumbled. His statement clearly indicated he had been paying attention to Lysandra. Panicked, Lysandra looked up from her plate. She saw the man glare down at her. "No, I- it's delicious, I just had a big lunch" she lied and could only hope it sounded convincing.
Tara's eyes seemed to double in size for a moment as Lysandra spoke of lunch. Lysandra hadn't eaten much during lunch at all. Meanwhile the Duke seemed oblivious to all of it. "Then just leave it if you're not hungry—" He grumbled something incoherent after that. The only understandable word Lysandra could make out was plump. PLUMP! Did this man just call her fat! Looking down at her stomach worried she had gained weight. Was it the stews she had eaten almost every evening as she travelled to the North? Lysandra pushed the plate away for Tara to take. Meanwhile her stomach rumbled softly in protest.
The maid blinked a few times, clearly having heard Lysandra's stomach. Tara didn't ask any questions as she cleared away Lysandra's plate. Meanwhile the Duke had almost finished his monstrous portions of food. Leaving the plates clean for Tara to clear away too. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. The Duke's continued glaring at Lysandra made shivers run down her spine.
Without warning the Duke put his napkin on the table. He got up. "You can finish dessert on your own." His voice was cold. He then bowed his head slightly before turning to walk out of the dining room. The guards had been especially fast in opening and closing the doors for the Duke. With the man gone Tara let out a strained sigh. "Any requests for dessert milady? Would you like me to serve it in your room?" The maid offered with a soft smile. They both seemed relieved that the Duke had left.
Was this what the rest of her life would be like? Marriage to a man who had no manners? He could barely make small talk and would leave the dinner table early after he had arrived late. Wishing Ambra to be here, Lysandra grabbed onto the fabric of her dress and stood up. "No thank you. I shall return to my quarters to continue my reading." She held back the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. She had to be strong now. Lysandra made her way out of the dining room and back to her own. She requested to be left alone after Tara had helped her out of her dress . She spent the rest of her evening curled up in her blankets on the bed.