Breakfast of Shadows
The first light of morning seeped through the tall windows of the northern dining hall, casting pale silver streaks across the polished obsidian floors. The hall was vast, lined with long tables of dark wood and decorated with banners bearing the sigils of Draven: black ravens intertwined with silver moons. The air carried a faint chill, and with it, the subtle scent of pine, cold stone, and burning wood from the grand hearth.
Elara entered the dining hall, Lyra by her side, her hands gripping the folds of her gown. She had barely slept, her mind alive with thoughts from the previous night—the ceremony, the grandeur of the palace, and the absence of Kael. She had expected his presence, yet instead, she was left alone with her thoughts, her heart both restless and quietly uneasy.
As they approached the table, Kael was already seated at the head, his tall form straight-backed, silver eyes scanning the room with quiet authority. Beside him sat Lady Selene, poised and composed, a faint, self-satisfied smile curving her lips. She looked radiant in a gown of midnight silk embroidered with faint silver threads. Her black hair fell in smooth waves over her shoulders, and her eyes, dark and calculating, flicked occasionally toward Kael, then toward Elara, measuring reactions and possibilities.
Elara felt a tightening in her chest. Kael's gaze, though not yet meeting hers, lingered on Selene in a way that made her stomach twist. Even without touch, without whispers of affection or intimate gestures, the way he treated Selene—with courtesy, attentiveness, subtle consideration—spoke volumes. And Elara, for all her composure, could not ignore the strange emotion stirring inside her.
Kael looked up as Elara approached. "Consort Elara," he said, his voice calm, low, and commanding, "please, sit." There was no warmth in the greeting, no familiarity—only a formal acknowledgment of her presence and her title. Yet, his eyes flicked briefly toward her, as if noting her posture, her composure, the faint tension in her hands.
Elara nodded curtly and seated herself, Lyra took a leave after making sure Elara was okay. Selene's smile did not falter, though there was a glint of triumph in her eyes as she observed Elara's unease.
"Good morning," Selene said smoothly, her voice musical and precise. "I trust the Princess found her chambers… adequate?"
Elara inclined her head, careful to maintain politeness while holding her own. "Adequate," she replied softly, though her mind churned. "And to correct you, the King's consort not princess if you're not familiar with it," she said. She didn't know want made her remind Selene that she's the king's consort not just a princess anymore. Not that I'm petty but maybe because, Selene is already weaving herself into the space I occupy… how easily she bends the northern way to her favour.
Kael observed the exchange quietly. Though his expression remained composed, his mind was calculating, noting the dynamics, the tension, the subtle competition between the two women at the table. He had yet to fully comprehend the pull he felt toward Elara, but he was acutely aware of Selene's proximity, her expectations, and the subtle emotional display she had shown in this morning ritual.
Breakfast was served in silence, the clatter of utensils and soft murmur of palace attendants filling the gaps. Kael addressed Selene first, asking about council preparations, her opinion on certain administrative matters, and listening intently to her responses. Elara noticed the ease in his attention, the way his posture shifted slightly toward Selene, the subtle acknowledgment of her ideas without condescension.
He respects her… Elara thought, some strange emotion rising in her chest. And yet, he did not even look at me this way during the wedding or when we met this morning… perhaps his heart already belongs to her.
Selene, for her part, revelled quietly in the attention. Every nod, every slight smile from Kael reinforced her belief that the crown—and perhaps the king himself—was hers to command. Yet she was cautious, knowing that Elara's defiance and spirit could prove both unpredictable and dangerous. "How dare she, try to remind me that she's the king's consort," she thought.
Elara pushed her thoughts aside, focusing on the meal, the ornate silverware, the subtle but complex flavours of northern cuisine. She was learning that the north prized precision, subtlety, and endurance, and she would need all her wit and patience to navigate it.
Kael finally turned his gaze toward her briefly, noting the controlled posture, the set jaw, and the alert, intelligent eyes. There was something about her that he could not yet name, a spark of vitality and defiance that contrasted with Selene's practiced elegance. But he did not allow himself to linger, keeping the moment brief, as though even acknowledging it too much might disrupt the balance of the morning.
After breakfast, Elara rose, Lyra close at her side, and Kael gave a nod of dismissal, the formalities of the morning complete. Selene lingered, her eyes flashing a calculated glint. "Princess Elara, sorry...Consort Elara" she said, voice soft but edged with warning, "I hope you will learn to navigate the ways of Draven as gracefully as you did the ceremonies yesterday. It is… not a place for those unwilling to observe."
Elara inclined her head politely, but inside, a quiet resolve hardened. I will survive this kingdom… and I will see beyond the courtly smiles, the gilded courtesy, and the false elegance.
Kael's eyes watched her as she departed, silver glimmering in the morning light, but he said nothing. Something about her presence, her defiance, and the subtle fire in her gaze had lodged in his mind, unacknowledged, stirring beneath the layers of protocol and duty.
And so the morning passed: quiet, tense, and full of unspoken thoughts. Elara, in her chambers, reflected on Kael's subtle attentions to Selene, and the unsettling pull she felt toward a man who observed her but remained distant. Selene, plotting and confident, considered how best to solidify her position in Kael's court. And Kael, in the shadows of his own thoughts, recognized a spark in the southern princess that neither he nor his advisors could yet comprehend.
The breakfast had ended, yet the strands of desire, jealousy, duty, and intrigue had only begun to intertwine—and the threads that would bind Elara and Kael together were slowly, deliberately, being woven.