Edmun visibly held back a snarl as Johan and Priscilla entered the dining hall. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, bastard. What happened earlier was just a fluke.”
“Of course. I just thought that it would be a shame to see you off on a bad note, considering that we’re family and all.”
When it became clear that the two had nothing more to say to him, Alistar placed the bowl of peas atop the table and then moved a few seats down to where his eldest cousin was sitting.
“Johan, Priscilla,” he said, bowing politely to each of them in turn as per his mother’s lessons on etiquette. “How was your time in town?”
“It was wonderful,” said Priscilla, whose blonde hair had been combed into long, straight strands that hung down her slender back like a beautiful curtain of shining silk. “We lunched at the Rose Well—you know, that classy tavern that costs a silver half-lucet just to enter—and then spent the afternoon walking along the Greyline.”
“Yes, we did a lot of walking. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy a walk more than the one I had today.”
A light blush broke out on Priscilla’s face, while Johan began to beam like a proud father.
Noting their demeanour, Alistar made a discernment that wouldn’t have come to mind if this conversation were taking place just a few days prior. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“And what about you, cousin? I heard that you had some sword lessons this morning?”
Alistar felt the ghosts of his earlier injuries as he thought of the gruelling sparring session that had defined the day’s lesson. As expected after he had avoided most of the week’s lessons, his master’s cane had been ruthless in its movements.
“It was…” He touched a hand to his back, where he suspected several bruises had avoided his healing hands in the moments after Tramon had dismissed him. “Well, at least this time I wasn’t tied up and hung from a tree.”
A bit of pity touched at Johan’s eyes, though he simply laughed it away as he gave Alistar a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It’s as they say, smooth seas never made a skillful sailor. It might seem a bit overwhelming now, but you’ll surely thank your master for his efforts in the future.”
“That rude old ruffian?” Priscilla didn’t seem to have a good impression of Tramon. “The only time I ever greeted him, he laughed at my mannerisms instead of saying ‘hello.’ And the smell…that man always smells more like ale than ale itself. I don’t know why you don’t just learn from Mr. Ashel instead. At least he’s serious about his job.”
“Now, now,” said Johan, Priscilla going quiet as he put a hand on one of hers. “We all have our reasons for being the way we are.” His expression grew a bit playful. “You know, with how much wine you drank the other day I’m not sure you should be passing judgement on others for how much they enjoy their cups.”
As Priscilla grew red and tried to steer the conversation in another direction, her parents arrived along with her sister. After greeting and socializing with the Silvus family for a short while, Alistar and Lessa excused themselves to go off and sit with Anice, who had rushed into the dining hall mere moments after she had evidently sensed her friend’s arrival. After greeting Alistar with a hushed hello, she immediately began to talk to Lessa.
As had been the case when he had seen Anice earlier in the day, she was noticeably bashful, to the extent that Lessa slapped a pale hand onto the table not a minute into their talks in order to cut her words short and seize her attention.
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“Okay, are you going to tell me why you’re acting so strangely, or will I have to make Alie say it?”
Anice looked at him in panic, though a thought seemed to occur to her that caused her to return Lessa’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. “When did you start calling him Alie?”
“I…did I just say that? I didn’t notice.” Fixing her friend with a willful, silver stare, Lessa said, “That’s not the point here. Why are you being so odd, Anne?” Glancing at Edmun and Calum, her voice became a bit sombre. “Don’t tell me you were kissed again?”
“Well…”
Seeing her friend’s reaction, Lessa seemed at a loss. Unlike with the previous night Anice didn’t show any signs of anger or depression, though her words certainly confirmed the suspicion. Hearing this, Lessa grew quiet and contemplative.
All three of Alistar’s uncles arrived in short order, each dressed in the silvers and greys that characterized their clan’s colours. As usual, Antoine took a seat at the head of the table with subconscious steps, turning his steely eyes on everyone in attendance. His expression was difficult to read, even for someone like Alistar who had built up a knack for discerning people’s intents through their dispositions.
Antoine didn’t bat an eye as two servants hurried to place food onto the duke’s plate with practiced motions, arranging his meal in a neat and presentable manner. The thin fabric of his clothes betrayed a muscular frame, his heavily scarred palms telling of untold amounts of sword swings. Although Alistar’s contact with his uncles had been limited throughout their visit, he had been able to glimpse certain aspects of their character and now judged that he had a fairly decent understanding of what sort of men they were. While the younger duke had already revealed himself to be a gluttonous, contemptable person, his elder brother was more reserved, a more practiced master at masking his emotions.
“Are you ever going to commence the meal?” complained Daniel, who was eyeing the fried potatoes that Alistar had prepared less than an hour before. “Or shall I do it?”
Caedmon gave a forced smile. “No need, Brother. Now that everyone’s here, let’s all dig in.”
“Now, now, Caedmon. It’s the last dinner of our visit, so let’s do as we should and say grace before we dine.”
Caedmon looked toward his eldest brother with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like something Father would say.”
“Grace?” said Daniel, whose portly face was plastered with displeasure. “You don’t still do that outside of church proceedings, do you?”
“We do, before every meal. It’s a lord’s duty to lead by example, after all.”
Johan nodded in agreement. “It’s true, Uncle Daniel. If we’re to encourage our people to pray before mealtimes, then it’s only natural that we should do so as well.”
“Do I need you to tell me that?”
Antoine hushed his brother and led the table in reciting one of the most basic prayers of the Lucian Faith’s daily invocations, one that had long since been drilled into Alistar’s mind at the Sunday school lessons that followed every session of mass.
As he echoed the others with an empty prayer, Alistar cast cautious, calculated glances up and down the table in a discreet attempt to read the moods of his relatives. As usual, he and the girls were farthest from the dukes, situated closer to the centre of the lengthy table. Even with Alder and Mr. Albeck sitting between him and his cousins, he could clearly sense their constant, begrudging gazes. Following the incident at the collegia, the boys hadn’t been so overtly displeased with him in front of other members of the household as they currently were. Sensing a slight tension, Alistar was worried that this shift in mood wouldn’t go unnoticed by the dukes and that it might earn him some unwanted attention.
“I can’t say I don’t miss my kitchen staff,” remarked Daniel about ten minutes into the meal. His silver plate was empty save for a large pile of chicken bones and a few untouched carrots that were smothered in butter. “It seems like we’re always eating the same things around here.”
“We’re not against taking requests,” said Caedmon with a metered voice, annoyance in his eyes as he brushed shoulder-length strands of dark hair from his face. “You need only to ask, dear brother.”
Caedmon and the dukes had been in one another’s company for much of the day, though judging by their moods it didn’t seem as if they had enjoyed an amiable afternoon.
“What good does that do me now? We set off tomorrow.”
“I’ll be sure to include more variety during your next visit.”
As Daniel began to gripe about Caedmon’s lack of etiquette, Antoine ignored them and continued to eat in a passive manner. He had already taken back four full servings that had completely covered his plate, and he showed no signs of stopping now that his fifth helping had just been heaped onto the empty dish by a quiet servant.