Later that night, everyone sat on a round wooden table… it was shaped like an oval so there was enough space for a lot of people to sit down on.
The long table gleamed with polished moonwood, reflecting the lanterns suspended above it… each lantern glowing with a soft emerald tint controlled by delicate enchantments woven into their surface.
The Elf King sat at the head of the table with it's posture perfectly straight and it's hands folded with inhuman poise.
One of the Elf maids walked forward, poured the king a cup of tea, then stepped back with a bow so deep her forehead nearly brushed the floor.
The Elf King nodded, lifted the teacup, and took a slow sip while looking at everyone at the table.
Azel felt the weight of its gaze on him… the same way one feels cold water sliding down their spine.
It wasn't hostile, rather it was just unnervingly analytical. The moment the Elf King finished its inspection, it raised its cup again with a blank, unreadable expression.
