17

The dining room was a vision of opulence and elegance, a symphony of rich colors and intricate details that seemed to transport me to a world far removed from the one I had known. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the room, while ornate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of Fae beauty and magic. The long dining table was draped in sumptuous fabrics, its polished surface reflecting the soft candlelight that danced across its length.

As I stepped into the room, a hushed murmur of conversations filled the air, the sound a delicate symphony of voices that ebbed and flowed like a current of secrets and intrigue. The atmosphere was charged with an air of anticipation, a sense that every word spoken and every gesture made held hidden meaning beneath the surface.

The other Fae contestants were already seated, their forms draped in ethereal gowns that seemed to shimmer with their own inner light. They exuded an air of confidence and grace, their beauty otherworldly and enchanting. The glint of jewels and the sweep of elaborate hairstyles added to their regal presence, each one a striking figure in this intricate dance of courtly politics.

The table itself was a work of art, laden with an array of dishes that looked almost too exquisite to touch. Glistening fruits and vibrant vegetables were artfully arranged alongside dishes of delicate pastries and intricately prepared meats. The scents of spices and flavors wafted through the air, mingling with the soft undertones of the candlelight.

As I took my place among the other contestants, a mixture of awe and apprehension coursed through me. The contrast between their confident poise and my own uncertain presence was stark, a reminder that I was a mortal in a world of beings far more powerful and complex than I could fully comprehend.

Not only that, but the fact that I was expected to listen, to pick up information or else, weighed heavily on me. Was Pan right? Would they speak freely in front of me? 

A Fae attendant glided through the room, filling glasses with a shimmering liquid that sparkled like starlight. I watched as the other contestants engaged in quiet conversations, their voices carrying the weight of unspoken secrets and alliances.

As I took my place among the other Fae contestants at the lavishly adorned table, I couldn't help but be struck by the beauty that surrounded me even though I should be used to it by now.

The other Fae were a vision of elegance, their gowns flowing like liquid moonlight, and their laughter chiming like distant bells. The atmosphere was a mix of anticipation and intrigue, a delicate dance of conversation that carried hints of secrets and alliances beneath its surface.

As the dishes were presented, a sumptuous array of vibrant fruits, delicate pastries, and meticulously prepared meats adorned the table. The scents of exotic spices and delectable flavors mingled in the air, creating a sensory experience that was as captivating as it was tantalizing.

Aurora, with her ethereal presence and eyes like starlit skies, seemed to catch sight of something as her gaze flickered towards me. "Oh, what's that around the mortal’s neck?" she mused aloud, her voice carrying a note of curiosity.

Before I could react, Lysandra's voice cut through the air, dripping with an undercurrent of haughtiness. "It’s a collar," she chimed in, her tone filled with both amusement and condescension. "His Highness has deemed it necessary to keep a human as a pet."

Aurora's eyes widened in surprise, her curiosity piqued. "A pet?" she echoed.

Lysandra's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Indeed," she responded. "It seems our Prince has grown fond of this particular human's company…just not enough to actually compete for his heart."

I almost snorted but caught myself. As if Pan had a heart.

A ripple of murmurs and glances swept through the group, and I could feel a flush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks. The realization that they were discussing me as if I were nothing more than a plaything or a pawn in their world was both mortifying and infuriating.

Evangeline’s gaze turned back to the table, a hint of sympathy in her expression. "That seems rather... unconventional," she remarked delicately.

Lysandra's laughter tinkled like distant chimes, a clear note of mockery in her tone. "Oh, unconventional indeed," she quipped. "But then again, a human couldn't possibly aspire to anything more in our court. And it has happened in the past. It’s not completely uncommon.”

I clenched my jaw, the condescension in their voices like a bitter pill to swallow. The atmosphere seemed to grow more charged.

The dining room was aglow with the soft shimmer of candlelight, the long table adorned with a stunning display of delicacies fit for the Fae elites. As I took my place among them, I tried to ignore the anticipation and unease coursing through me. The other Fae contestants exuded an air of confidence and grace, their beauty and regal presence casting an enchanting spell over the room.

Lysandra, with her piercing green eyes and a mane of raven-black hair that seemed to catch the light, regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "Human," she began, her voice a lilting melody, "may I inquire as to why you're seated at this table?"

The question seemed innocuous enough, but there was an underlying tension to her words that didn't go unnoticed. I felt the weight of the other Fae's gazes, their curiosity piqued by Lysandra's inquiry.

Calista leaned in with a knowing smirk. "Oh, Lysandra, darling," she cooed, "our Prince has taken quite a liking to our human guest. It appears she's been granted the honor of dining among us."

Lysandra's eyebrows quirked, her expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Is that so?" she mused, her gaze shifting from me to the elaborate table setting. "How interesting."

A hint of discomfort prickled at the back of my mind, the awareness that I was being discussed as if I were an oddity or a curiosity. I met Lysandra's gaze, my voice steady despite the unease I felt. "Yes, I've been invited to join the dinner."

Lysandra's lips curled into a thoughtful smile, and I could see the gears turning in her mind. "Well, it's quite the departure from our usual proceedings," she remarked, her tone neutral but laden with meaning.

Aurora's laughter tinkled in response, a clear note of superiority in her voice. "Indeed," she chimed in, "but you must understand, Lyra, that a human can hardly be expected to follow our customs and etiquette."

Lysandra's gaze flickered towards Aurora, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And what might those customs entail?" she inquired, her voice measured.

Aurora's smile widened, a hint of malice in her expression. "Oh, you know," she replied nonchalantly, "simple things like sitting at the table and eating with utensils. Clearly, such complexities are beyond our guest's capabilities."

A rush of humiliation and anger surged within me, the realization that they were discussing me as if I were a mere animal, incapable of understanding their ways. My fingers tightened into fists, the urge to lash out warring with the need to maintain my composure.

Lysandra's gaze turned back to me, a flicker of mock-sympathy in her eyes. "Human," she said too kindly, "perhaps you might be more comfortable on the floor."

My cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, the reality of my perceived inferiority stinging like an open wound. “Actually, I'm fine where I am,” I said. I wasn’t going to let them push me around.

“You’re the pet,” Calista pointed out. “Do you let your dog eat with you at your table? Why would we do something so barbaric? Get. On. The. Floor. Dog.”

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her to fuck the fuck off, when Robin’s voice whispered in my ear: You need information on Seraphina. You need information on your brothers. You need to play this game.

I wanted to argue. Pan never said I had to belittle myself. But I also knew if I was going to find out information about Seraphina and who killed her, and if it had to do with Pan, their focus needed to be off me and on each other. It killed me, but I knew I had to do this. 

I forced a polite smile, masking my anger as I rose from my seat and lowered myself to the floor. Tears burned my eyes. I would not cry in front of them. That would be more humiliating than anything else.

As I sat there, the other Fae resumed their conversations, the weight of their gazes no longer on me. I couldn't shake the feeling of being treated like an outsider, an animal unfit for their refined world. The elegance of the dining room was a stark contrast to the bitter taste of humiliation that lingered on my tongue.

After a few minutes, the dining hall buzzed with a mixture of hushed conversations and the clinking of utensils against fine china like they had completely forgotten I was there in the first place. 

Aurora, her eyes like twin pools of skylight, leaned in towards Calista, her expression a blend of concern and intrigue. "Have you heard anything more about Seraphina's murder?" she asked.

Calista, her delicate features etched with a mixture of sadness and unease, nodded slowly. "There's a rumor circulating that she had taken quite an interest in one of the guards," she replied, her voice a low murmur.

My eyebrows rose as I brought the flaky roll, right out of the oven, to my mouth.

I hated to admit it, but Pan was right. They spoke as though I wasn’t there. Which meant I could hear everything.

Lysandra chimed in with a knowing smile. "Ah, the allure of a forbidden romance, how intriguing," she mused, her gaze dancing with mischief. "Perhaps it was jealousy that led to her demise."

Aurora's expression grew somber, her fingers tracing patterns on the tablecloth. "Or perhaps it was something more sinister," she said, her voice taking on a contemplative tone. "After all, the Fae court is no stranger to secrets and rivalries."

Evangeline gaze remained fixed on her plate. There was a solemnity in her eyes that hinted at deeper thoughts, a recognition of the gravity of the situation.

The conversation seemed to circle back to the guard, the notion of Seraphina's affection for him a point of fascination. Aurora leaned in closer, her voice a mere whisper. "Do we know who this guard is?"

Calista's gaze shifted towards the entrance, where a figure in Fae attire stood, his features both regal and guarded. "I believe his name is Thorne," she murmured. "He's been rather aloof since the news of Seraphina's murder. When it was discovered, he actually dropped to his knees. Can you believe such a thing?”

Lysandra's eyes glittered with intrigue, her tone dripping with drama. "A mysterious guard with a potentially broken heart," she mused. "It sounds like the makings of a tragic tale. I’m sure they’ll write songs about them.”

Aurora's gaze flitted towards Evangeline, as if seeking her opinion. "Evangeline, what do you think?" she asked gently.

Evangeline's lips parted, her voice soft but measured. "I think we mustn't jump to conclusions," she said, her words carrying a weight of wisdom. "There are many layers to this mystery, and rushing to judgment won't bring us closer to the truth."

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Lysandra said.

"Do you have any idea what His Highness intends to do about Seraphina?" Aurora asked, her voice a gentle melody.

I regarded her for a moment, a sense of shared unease evident in her gaze. The question was a valid one, the uncertainty surrounding Seraphina's death affecting us all. 

"I'm not entirely sure," Evangeline admitted, her voice low and contemplative. "He hasn't divulged much to anyone, though perhaps Arybella knows."

Aurora's brow furrowed slightly, her concern deepening. "It's just that, well, this isn't the first time something like this has happened," she said, her voice carrying a note of frustration. "And every time, it seems the truth remains elusive."

Calista, who had been listening to our conversation, chimed in with a somber nod. "It's as if the answers are always just beyond our reach," she added, her gaze distant. “Are we targets? Are we at risk?”

Lysandra, never one to miss an opportunity to share her opinions, leaned in with an air of nonchalance. "Perhaps His Highness is more concerned with maintaining his own power than seeking justice," she mused, her voice carrying a hint of cynicism.

Aurora's gaze flickered towards Lysandra, her eyes narrowing slightly. "That's a rather bold assumption," she replied, her tone measured.

Evangeline hummed. "We should be careful not to jump to conclusions," she replied softly, her voice carrying a wisdom that seemed beyond her years.

Aurora's attention returned to me, her gaze thoughtful. "Human, you’re his pet now," she said, her voice tinged with earnestness. "You could listen in on him and tell us, couldn’t you?"

I wanted to tell her to fuck off, she made me eat on the floor, when the grand doors of the dining room swung open, and Pan entered, his presence commanding the attention of everyone present. With an aura of regal indifference, he paused at the entrance, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Fae. His voice, smooth and rich, cut through the room as he said, "It seems our discussions have taken a rather somber turn in my absence. Perhaps that will change now that I’m here.”