••{NOCTIS, THIRD KINGDOM OF THE EMPIRE OF NIGHT}••
••{LUCERIS'S POV}••
The dining chamber is calm and quiet as my parents and I have our dinner.
There's no music. No servants hovering. Just the low crackle of the hearth and the soft clink of cutlery against porcelain.
I slice through the meat on my plate and lift a piece to my mouth. The blood is still warm. Perfectly prepared. My mother insists on that.
My father, Ares Mordred, sits at the head of the table. While my mother, Erzebet, sits across from me with a goblet of bloodwine cradled in elegant fingers, watching me over the rim.
"Have you spoken to Azrael since you returned from Darkholme?" my mother says, finally breaking the silence.
I swallow and reach for my goblet. "Why do you ask, Mother?"
"The empire has been awfully quiet ever since that disaster of a wedding," she replies.
I set my goblet down before cutting another piece of meat.
