“… It warms my heart to see so many of you, each with different stories to tell and experiences to share, sitting in one room. I do hope you enjoy your stay here, no matter how short. Please, eat, drink and celebrate with us.”
King Dalior’s hands clapped together, and instantly the doors lining the room burst open, elves dressed in white rushed forth. They each held numerous plates balanced on their hands and arms. It was like a dance; within moments, all four tables had been filled with steaming food. My stomach growled in response. During the distraction, King Dalior and Prince Hadrian were now seated. I looked their way briefly, but the urge to shovel the gorgeous plates of food into my mouth was almost too much to ignore. The smell was a siren call to my growling stomach.
No one touched the food. Not until King Dalior called from his seat. “Please, eat up before the food goes cold.”
Plates knocked against overfilled goblets and the room began to eat. I chewed on chicken legs, the skin crispy beneath my teeth. I piled my plate with soft carrots, mashed potatoes and bread, which didn’t last long before I devoured them.
The throne room filled with laughter, and the feast got underway.
***
AS THE PLATES were being taken away, the elves dressed in white brought out replacements, not leaving the tables empty for a single moment. Plates of meat and bread were swapped with desserts. Sugared buns towered on brass trays and fruit of all kinds spilled over bowls. It smelled divine, yet tasted even better. I bit into my third honey bun, licking my lips and fingers to remove the sugar that laced them. The pressed apple drink was the perfect chaser after such divine desserts.
Every now and then I would look over at King Dalior. He sat and watched with delight at the satisfied crowd, not once joining in the feast himself. Prince Hadrian also watched, although there was something behind his expression that I couldn’t put a finger on. I quickly forgot about it when more plates of food were brought out.
I ate and ate, unsure if I would ever stop until it finally caught up to me. My stomach was swollen with food. Bloated and aching, I leaned back in my seat, rubbing the back of my hand across my mouth to discard the flecks of sugar and juice that coated my lips. The elves on the table around me had also started to slow down, huffing with pleasure and giggling at each other’s bulging stomachs. For me, being full was a new sensation. One I welcomed.
My attention was directed to a loud noise on the table opposite me. It came from a boy who was slumped, with his head in his arms. The goblet he’d knocked to the floor rolled beneath the table and bumped against my foot, leaving a trail of scarlet liquid across the black marble floor. I kicked out under the table to wake him, horrified at the thought of the King seeing him asleep.
“Oi!” I hissed, aware of the sudden lack of noise in the room. The boy didn’t wake so I kicked again, knocking my foot against his shin harder. There was another sound beside me. I turned and my mouth went dry. All around me, elves slept.
I was not the only one left awake as a few others from neighbouring tables began to stand up and step back in worry.
I fumbled to join them, knocking at the one who slept beside me until she fell from her chair face first to the ground. I cringed at the impact.
The doors burst open to an uncountable number of guards who filled the room. I looked to King Dalior who still sat in his throne, his face calm. The guards streamed forward, and began lifting out those who slept from their seats and walked from the room. The white dressed elves also entered the room and began clearing the knocked over goblets and leftover food from the table as if it what was happening was completely normal.
I scanned for Petrer, relieved as I saw he too was still awake and moving out of the way of the girl next to him who was lifted over the guard’s shoulder and taken from the room. It was not common to see Petrer worry, but his face was pinched with it. He caught my gaze and mouthed something that I couldn’t make out.
“Do not worry…” King Dalior called from the steps, his voice spreading a blanket of calm over the remainder of the room. “You must excuse me, for I have to admit that I have not been honest with you all. Your friends, they will all be taken to their rooms to rest for the evening. They are in safe hands, I can assure you.” His draping sleeved arms waved at the last guard, urging them to leave with haste.
“Before the feast, I had the kitchens lace the food with Forbian. Which as you have seen has had the desired affects that I intended. My heart truly aches that I have not been honest with you from the start, but it was imperative that I separated you all from the crowd without causing suspicions amongst your peers.”
I wasn’t accustomed to herbs and plants, but I knew Forbian well. Fa used it during a winter four moons ago when Mam was sick. She had caught a fever during the winter months and she’d been bed bound for weeks. He’d brought the herb from a passing merchant and used it on Mam that same day. She slept for hours, no coughs or fits. Fa told me it was to help her rest. The drug forced the user into a sleep, for how long depended on the dosage.
“You all must be wondering why you have not been affected by the Forbian.” His ivory white teeth glistened behind his thin lips.
Someone called out, and all heads turned towards the speaker. “Because Forbian doesn’t work on us...” Illera shoulders were held back as she called forward. Although my body burned with distaste for her, my heart sank as King Dalior moved slowly to where she stood.
“That is right, my child…” Within seconds he stood behind her, both his elegant, long hands rested on her shoulders.
“And what is it that you are…”
There was a pause, before she lifted her grinning face, “Shifters.”
I CHOKED ON a ball of spit lodged in my throat. My heart skipped a beat and my entire body chilled. I looked around at the smaller group, Petrer, Illera and Gwendolyn all a part of it. I was stupid not to connect the dots, I should’ve realized.
I tried to calm my face, mask the worry that filled every inch of me. King Dalior walked back to the dais where Prince Hadrian stood, watching our reactions. I caught his golden eyes for a moment, biting my lip and smiling.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could shift?” Petrer didn’t look at me when he spoke, keeping his eyes trained on the throne. I could hear the disappointment drip from every word he spoke. Seems like we both had secrets.
My magick.
It was the only possible answer. I was not a shifter, but it was possible the Forbian did not affect me because of what I could do.
Panic seized my muscles and the monstrous worry burned through my mind. My magick stirred within its cage, teasing me.