A Red-Rose Chain

The layout was very similar to the one from lunch, with long tables set up at the center of the hall in a neat square. No benches this time; instead, there were individual chairs, making it easier for the women to sit in their elaborate gowns, some of which could have taken an entire bench all by themselves. Once again, King Rhys and the former Queen of the Mists were seated behind a short table on the dais. There were no servers. Tables laden with platters of cold food, braziers of hot food, and pitchers of drinks had been arranged around the outside of the hall. No one was going near the food. Everyone who had arrived before us was milling around the tables, apparently waiting for someone else to sit first.

Fine. If someone had to start the cascade, it might as well be us. I marched to the table closest to the dais, bowed deeply to King Rhys, and plopped my butt into the first open chair I saw, which just so happened to put me where I could keep an eye on our host and his companion. Smirking, Tybalt settled on my right, while Quentin took the seat to my left. King Rhys raised an eyebrow as he watched me sit. I smiled sweetly back at him, and waited to see what would happen next.

I didn’t have to wait long. Rhys raised a hand in a seemingly casual gesture, and one of his servants all but materialized next to him, stepping out of the shadows behind the throne so quickly that if I hadn’t known better, I would have taken the girl for one of the Cait Sidhe. King Rhys murmured something to her, glancing meaningfully to me. The serving girl nodded, bobbing a curtsy at the same time, and stepped down from the dais.

I didn’t say anything as she approached, but I sat up a little straighter, watching her approach. For what, I wasn’t sure, but when she finally reached me and spoke—in the small, trembling voice of a child who had been beaten too many times to ever truly believe in the absence of pain—I knew that I wasn’t ready.

“The King requests the pleasure of your company at his table.”

Oh, oak and ash. I glanced to Tybalt and Quentin. Both of them looked back at me, their expressions as close to blank as they could get them. If I didn’t know them as well as I did, I would have missed the tightness around Quentin’s lip and the fractional narrowing of Tybalt’s pupils. They knew this was a trap, even if none of us quite knew what sort of trap. And they knew, just as well as I did, that there was no way for me to avoid it.

“I would be delighted,” I said solemnly, and rose, gathering my skirt in both hands to keep my fingers from shaking. The servant girl smiled in relief before turning to escort me to the dais.

We were almost there when I realized the true nature of the trap. I couldn’t refuse to eat while I was in the King’s presence; it would be a grave insult to his hospitality, and the sort of thing that was just rude enough to be unforgiveable. At the same time, I couldn’t season my own food while I was sitting at the King’s table. It would be an insult to the King’s kitchens, and while that wasn’t quite as bad as insulting his hospitality, it sure as hell wasn’t good. I was stuck.

Walther can make a counteragent, I thought, and stepped up onto the dais, where King Rhys’ smile was waiting to greet me.

“Hello, Sir Daye,” he said. “I thought we could use this opportunity to talk—in full sight of your friends, naturally, since I doubt they would trust me to speak with you alone. I wanted to apologize again for the error involving your friend. I understand now that she wasn’t acting against the throne, but these are dangerous times.”

“Yes,” I agreed, as neutrally as I could manage. “Dangerous times, indeed.” I sank into the seat at the end of the table, my mind racing as I tried to calculate doses and safe margins. Some potions were so potent that a single drop could be enough—like goblin fruit, where the smallest taste was enough to addict a changeling. Others required a higher dose. If I ate only sparingly, and restricted myself to things that I saw Rhys and the former Queen putting in their mouths, I might be okay.