“You said first impressions matter, Gora,” Kaniel leaned back and eased himself into his seat. “Do you like it?”

Before anybody could speak, he swung one foot onto the table, resting his boot on the edge like a hooligan. The other foot crossed over the first, his shoes muddy from the arduous journey.

“Do you like my smell, people?”

Silence befell. Even in the north, barely anyone could match or put up to his level of madness.

Heavy wooden platters held thick slabs of smoked venison, the earthy aroma of herbs and garlic an undertone of wild scent as rugged as the land from which it came. Well, it was. Now, nothing but the aroma of Kaniel pervaded the hallway. All food sat a small distance away from his boot beneath him. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, looking smugly.

Gerbert's fingers tightened around his goblet, knuckles turning white as he glared at the young man with fury. His ruddy cheeks flushed even deeper.

“Are you out of your damn mind, boy?” he growled, his voice low, seething. “Why do you soil our food with your filthy boots? Things are done differently wherever you came from, but here, we respect our food, our traditions, and the people who share a table with us.”

The grand oak table before was laden with a spread that pulled the harsh northern wilderness into every dish. Beside, a large clay bowl held a steaming stew of almost black under the flat candlelight. In it, turnips, parsnips, carrots, all dyed a crimson from northern berries. The rich broth flecked with herbs and spices, the forest itself condensed into liquid form. Rye bread, crusty on the outside and dense within, was surrounded by slabs of salted butter.

Gerbert’s calloused hand slammed on the table, rattling everything except the feet on it. “Don’t you hear what I say?”

Pickled vegetables like cabbages, beets, and pale roots piled on a wooden board, bold, defiant against the muted tones of the bread and meat.

Meat. Kaniel pushed the entire plate of it across the table with the sole of his boot. The platter scraped against the wood as it slid toward Gerbert.

Fat dripped down its sides into the warm potatoes and roasted vegetables surrounding it. “Sorry. It’s probably hard to reach with your hands.” Kaniel gave it one last nudge as it reached Gerbert.

His eyes locked on the older man. “Our food? Our traditions? You look like an Easterner to me. Nothing speaks north of you. Why do you pretend to be one if you’re not? I say we’re different from these barbarians.” He sat further back, arms crossed behind his head.

Kaniel moved his gaze around the table. He saw Gora watch him curiously. The muscular old man near him was enjoying the show, and opposite the blacksmith sat a bald woman, her eyes peaceful.

“The rumors regarding you weren’t exaggerated! Are you completely out of your mind, kid?!” Gerbert spat words at him.

“Lower your feet this instant and—”

A knife sliced through the air. It passed past Gerbert’s face. The blade barely missed his cheek. His eyes widened. His head snapped toward Kaniel, ready to erupt like a volcano. Yet, he immediately stilled.

What he saw was no longer a kid, no.

Someone entirely different.

The smug smirk had melted from Kaniel’s face.

Gerbert’s breath hitched.

A chill ran down his spine as he locked eyes with Kaniel.

He felt the eyes, wide, sharp like twin daggers, watch through him, stripping him down to his bones, dissecting him. Pools of the darkest abyss, so black, so fathomless, they devoured any light that dared stray close. No softness, no humanity in those depths, only an impenetrable void. Pain. Ruin. Deeper and darker than any shadow, scarier than any monster he had ever faced in his sixteen years roaming the continent as an adventurer. The gaze didn’t waver. Ruthlessly. Nor did it blink. Relentlessly. Hungry darkness. It watched him. It pierced through him. It would swallow him whole without a trace. It knew exactly how it would do. It knew exactly how little it would care.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“For you, it’s Lord. Lord Nashdome,” said the lord coldly. Shadows fell sharply across his face, dark hollows under his cheekbones. They barely contained whatever dark impulse lay within. His insolent smirk was now a grim line.

Gerbert involuntarily bowed his head. His instincts told him this was the closest he’d gotten to death. Silence enveloped not just him but the whole room. The clatters and chick-chacks of the utensils halted. Even Gora held his breath momentarily. This wasn’t a face that an arrogant noble kid would make.

“Hah…aha…ha.”

Kaniel's foot slid off the table as he doubled over, his body trembling with laughter. His shoulders shook uncontrollably.

“This. This is priceless!” He chuckled. “HahahaHAHA!”

Laughter. Raw, wild. Laughter, in waves. Each more manic than the last. Deranged cackle. His mouth opened in an unrestrained grin, baring teeth. His hair fell messily over his face, concealing his eyes but not the gleaming smile that stretched like an unhinged mask. The veins in his neck stood.

The laughter spilled out of him in fits. The voice cracked, wavering around the room.

He slapped his hand on the table, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he laughed. Laughs hit a higher, crazier pitch, close to hysteria.

“AGHAGHAGHAGHA”

Everyone else remained frozen, eyes on him as he laughed like he’d lost his mind.

Kaniel’s hands shook as he pointed at the food, clutching his stomach from laughing too hard.

The maids that presided around the table all froze except the vampire, who, for the first time in a long while, felt keen interest. Lumine stared at Kaniel, her bloody eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“Look at it!” He gasped between fits of laughter and threw his head back, mouth open in madness, the tips of his fangs visible in the corners of his broad smile.

“How efficient for someone with so few resources! It must be tough to work with what you’ve been given. There is no expectation that everyone will understand the value of helping the less fortunate, of course. It’s a perspective not everyone has the heart to adopt,” he proclaimed with amusement, gazing at Gerbert. Then, his eyes scanned the table, glancing at each person with a smile that looked friendly at first but deeply unsettling the longer one looked, one by one. “Splendid!”

He clapped his hands. “How not one of you mentioned the smell? You’re all aware of the rot and the decay around you. Yet you simply endure. Are you fine with this?” Kaniel shot his eyes at Gora, pointing at Gerbert, who couldn’t muster a single word.

“Such a touching notion. Cowards.” Kaniel rose from his seat and strode toward Zara. He stopped behind her, his hands gently resting on her shoulders, fingers pressing down. “So, they sent you, an innocent girl, unguarded, no supervision, no precautions, straight to my room? Haven’t you heard the rumors?” His gaze swept over the seated figures at the table.

Zara stiffened, her breath catching. She kept her gaze forward, eyes teary. Kaniel’s hands began to apply pressure to mimic a comforting gesture that hinted at something more possessive. His fingertips traced the curves of her shoulders.

He laughed emptily. “Say, and even if something were to happen to her. Some unfortunate accident.” His voice dropped to a chilling whisper loud enough for everyone to hear. “What would you all do? Nothing! Absolutely nothing.”

Kaniel leaned in closer, his voice a murmur against her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “What do you think, Zara? They send someone so vulnerable and naive into a situation they have no control over.”

Finally, he let go and started circling the table. Again and again. His steps resounded.

“Inaction is a poison you all choose to swallow daily. That silence leaves the food piled high on this table while people outside these walls scratch the dirt for scraps. Just how many people have died because none of you could be bothered to attempt a change?”

He finally sat at the head seat once again, once again swinging one foot onto the table, the other foot crossed over the first.

Kaniel leaned back in his chair. His voice dropped to a dark. "Now," he said commandingly, "get out."

None moved.

"Get out!" he barked, his voice snapping everyone from their paralysis.

One by one, they rose from their seats as they filed out of the room, heads lowered. Maids slipped away with hurried steps and bowed heads. Their footsteps grew fainter until the room held stillness.

Kaniel’s gaze fell on Gora, who remained seated, unmoving, unreadable, his face impassive.

“Before you ask,” Kaniel spoke before Gora could interrogate him. “I need to take a bath…”

Gora stared at him for a long while. Then, he pointed toward the table, “You should eat.”

Now that he thought about it, Kaniel was deathly hungry. All the talk built up his appetite further. The food looked delicious. It smelled good.