Page 67 of Song of the Heart Scale
And a beginning.
“We should eat,” Royal Prince Bai announced, his voice cutting through the tension like a dull knife. “There are matters to discuss that require sustenance.”
I reluctantly pulled away from Damien, though my fingers lingered on his arm. “Yeah, nothing says 'let's talk about an evil emperor' like dinner and dessert.”
Royal Prince Bai's lips twitched, almost a smile. “The kitchen prepared spiced duck.”
“Trying to soften the blow of apocalyptic news with poultry? Smart move.”
The dining room felt different when we returned—heavier somehow. The staff exchanged nervous glances before Royal Prince Bai dismissed them with a gentle wave of his hand. Only Maeve remained, hovering near the doorway until I nodded at her to stay.
“Bring wine,” Royal Prince Bai instructed. “The Ardisian reserve.”
“The good stuff, huh?” I muttered as Maeve left and returned swiftly with the wine.
The table had been reset for the three of us—an intimate gathering compared to the full staff that sat there earlier. Steam rose from covered silver platters and candlelight flickered across the walls, making shadows dance like restless spirits.
I slid into a chair, watching as Damien took the seat opposite me. His fingers slightly trembled as he reached for his goblet, the wine inside sloshing dangerously close to the rim. His uncle sat at the head of the table, his weathered face a mask of practiced neutrality that couldn't quite hide the worry lines around his eyes.
“So,” I said, stabbing a piece of duck with unnecessary force, “are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, or just pretend the new emperor didn't just go full Joffrey Baratheon on his coronation day?”
Damien's brow furrowed. “I don't understand the reference, but I assume it's unflattering.”
“Let's just say that where I come from, forcing people to kneel at sword-point is generally considered a red flag in leadership.”
I took a bite of the succulent duck, savoring the rich blend of spices that danced across my tongue. Despite everything, I was surprised the food was good. I’d struggled to find food that suited my taste buds since arriving in this strange world. Tonight’s dinner was a small mercy in a world that seemed determined to throw curveballs at me.
“Well, exactly how bad are things on a scale of one to Chernobyl?” I asked with a mouthful of duck.
Royal Prince Bai's brow furrowed. “Cher-no-byl?”
“It's a—never mind.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Earth reference. Big disaster. Lots of radiation. Bad juju for centuries.”
Damien met my eyes across the table. “Then yes, it's very much like your Cher-no-byl.”
“Thorne's always been...difficult,” Royal Prince Bai said, delicately placing a slice of braised vegetable onto his plate. “But today exceeded even my darkest expectations.”
Damien pushed his food around his plate, his appetite clearly absent. “There's more,” he said quietly. “Something I haven't told either of you.”
I paused mid-chew, my fork suspended halfway to my mouth. “More? As in, more than 'the ground rejected him and he threatened mass execution'? Because that already feels like we've hit our quota of terrible news for the day.”
Thunder rumbled outside, as if punctuating my statement. I glanced toward the window, hoping for rain, but there was still nothing but the persistent, teasing rumble.
“I visited Malachar,” Damien said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “After the enthronement.”
Royal Prince Bai's fork and knife clattered against his plate. “You didwhat?”
“Let me get this straight. You snuck into the palace,” I leaned forward, “where the dead emperor is still lying around like weekend leftovers? That's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.”
“Perhaps both,” Damien admitted with a grim smile.
“How? Today the palace should have been under more security than the other day. He's been kept under guard since—” Prince Bai started.
“Since he discovered the truth about the emperor's death,” Damien finished. “I know. I had to... improvise my way past the guards.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Improvise? Is that Shadow Prince speak for 'knocked them unconscious'?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Damien's face. “Nothing so dramatic. They'll wake with nothing worse than a headache.”
