Chapter 189: The Head of the Table
Chapter 189: The Head of the Table
Elyn’s POV
I stared down at the obsidian armrests beneath my hands as if they might suddenly explain themselves. Don’t ask me why I thought they could or that they would... they did not explain anything to me.
I lifted my head slowly and looked at Zorathys.
"Why," I asked carefully, "am I seated in your seat?"
He looked entirely unbothered.
"You are Queen."
"I am queen-to-be," I corrected immediately. "That is not the same thing."
"It is."
"It is not."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me as though I were a particularly interesting puzzle he had already solved.
"You are my wife," he said.
I resisted the urge to say wife-to-be.
"You are the future Queen of this realm. Today is your official introduction. Therefore, you sit there," he told me.
"That is not how that works," I insisted. "You are the King. This is your seat. I should not be sitting where you are supposed to sit."
"It does not matter."
"It absolutely matters."
He raised a brow faintly.
"It does not."
"It does," I pressed. "There are protocols. Traditions. Symbolism."
"Yes," he agreed calmly. "Symbolism."
I blinked.
"...You are impossible."
"It is your day," he continued, as though I had not spoken. "Your official presentation to the realm and to these ones who do not deserve to be in your presence," he said, gesturing lazily at the front noble seats around the table. "And besides, I hear humans put the celebrant at the head of the table, do they not?"
I hesitated.
"Well... yes."
"Then sit."
"This is not a human banquet."
"No," he agreed. "It is far more important."
I opened my mouth to argue again.
He beat me to it.
He turned away from me slightly and looked over the table.
"Do any of you," he asked aloud, voice smooth and deceptively mild, "take issue with Firefly being seated at the head?"
The dining hall went still again.
Every noble stiffened instinctively.
Then, almost in eerie synchronization, they shook their heads.
"No, Your Majesty," Ignivar answered first.
"Not at all," Caleth added smoothly.
Draeven gave a single solid nod.
Seraphielle smiled, her eyes bright with something that was not entirely innocent.
She leaned forward slightly, her voice flowing like syrup.
"Your Highness," she purred sweetly, addressing me, "you deserve that seat... and perhaps even more."
The sweetness in her tone was almost tangible.
Zorathys nodded in agreement.
"Seraphielle," he said calmly, "you should speak less sweetly when addressing my wife."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop a fraction.
Seraphielle’s smile did not falter, but it thinned.
"Of course, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice noticeably more neutral.
I blinked between them.
Was I the only one who felt like I had just missed an entire silent war?
Zorathys’ gaze returned to me.
"There," he said. "Settled."
I looked around the table again.
Not one of them objected to me being seated at the head of the table.
If anything, they looked as though they had expected this and that the seat was made for me.
I swallowed.
I could continue arguing.
I could insist.
But what would that accomplish when it came to these hard-headed demons?
I exhaled slowly and straightened my spine.
"...Fine," I said at last, giving a small nod.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed Zorathys’ face.
Zorathys relaxed in the chair beside me and then yawned.
I stared at him.
"Did you just—"
"Yes," he replied lazily. "I’m tired, and we haven’t even started this luncheon. It’s time we get it over with."
Ignivar cleared his throat carefully.
Very carefully.
Zorathys’ eyes slid toward him immediately.
Ignivar froze for half a second before forcing himself to continue.
"Your Majesty," Ignivar said respectfully, "you are meant to give a speech."
Zorathys blinked.
"A what?"
"A speech," Ignivar repeated. "For the occasion."
Zorathys made a face.
"Since when?"
Ignivar looked genuinely confused.
"Since... forever. Whenever something like this occurs."
Zorathys looked offended by the very concept.
"That sounds like unnecessary work."
Ignivar inhaled slowly.
"It is tradition."
"It is inefficient."
"It is expected."
"It will not accomplish anything," Zorathys countered. "And again, it is unnecessary work."
Ignivar opened his mouth to argue again.
Zorathys cut him off with a single look.
"Ignivar," he said calmly, "do not."
Ignivar nodded.
"...As you wish, Your Majesty."
Zorathys nodded once, satisfied.
"I would prefer," he continued, "to eat."
A beat of silence passed.
Then he added, "And get this entire thing over with."
"You are a picky eater," I told him.
"True, but seeing you eat fills me up, so let’s get this over with," he told me.
Again, my traitorous pulse had better explain why it was racing over something so cliché.
"Save that for someone it would work on," I told Zorathys.
"I have no one to use these lines on, Firefly," he told me. "I can only use them on you."
"Where did you even get these lines?" I asked him.
"A book about human flirtation."
"Is that the book I caught you reading in your bedroom?" I asked him.
"What do you take me for? I wouldn’t read a book on flirting in my spare time. Of course that book was different. It was..." He paused. "...I’ve forgotten what it was about, but I do know I liked it."
I rolled my eyes at that.
"You are unbelievable."
Zorathys smirked, then snapped his fingers, and another door opened immediately.
This time it wasn’t the door to the entrance of the dining hall. No, this was the one that led to the kitchens. The doors had just opened, and a delicious aroma filled the dining hall.
Meanwhile, I had no idea that the other demon nobles gathered around were observing how I was interacting with Zorathys. I just continued teasing him like normal, not minding them, and it wouldn’t be until after the ball, and even the after-party, that I would find out. But that was a story for another time.
Now, I was trying to focus on how to use those utensils Morthen had taught me to use and not disgrace myself while using them.