The walk to the dining hall felt akin to a march towards the guillotine for Gwen. Each step weighed heavily, without purpose or enthusiasm. Had the invitation to dinner not come from the Duke and if it was not a dinner with the King, Gwen would have refused outrightly. The prospect of sharing the same space as Lord Cossington filled her with dread, yet she had no choice. It was now beyond her and she would have to endure it.
As soon as the servant who had informed them of the prepared table exited the room to wait outside, Beth had turned to Gwen, urging her to refuse the invitation if she felt unable to attend. She offered to excuse Gwen by feigning illness on her behalf. However, Gwen had hesitated, partly because she did not want to cause her sister any unnecessary worries and partly to avoid rudeness towards the Duke of Carlisle and the King of her country.
Slowly, she trailed behind Beth and Lucy, as they followed closely behind the servant. The hall was a great distance from their room, and with each step towards the hall, the temptation to retreat to the safety of their chambers grew stronger. How was she to endure the dinner if the tension was already palpable before they even arrived?
At the entrance to the dining hall, they met with a gathering of other gentlemen and lords - guests of the King. Engaged in conversation, the men lingered outside, awaiting the commencement of the dinner. Despite her efforts to avoid it, Gwen couldn't help but look around, though there was no logical reason to search for Lord Cossington, yet, as soon as they arrived, her gaze unwittingly found him amidst the small crowd. He stood with his back to her, engrossed in deep conversation with another lord. Her heart did a mild flip, not from joy, but anxiety. She silently prayed for the doors to open before he noticed her, but alas, her prayers were to go unanswered.
As if prompted by fate, he turned and locked eyes with her."Lady Fitzgerald!" His voice rang out, commanding the attention of the other lords. Gwen's heart stopped. "It is a greatness to know that we shall gaze upon your face at dinner?"
"Lord Cossington," Beth addressed, bowing to him. "We have been graciously invited by the Duke of Carlisle." Her tone carried a subtle undertone, more akin to a warning than a mere statement of fact.
"I remember." He acknowledged, stepping out from the small cluster of guests. "I remember all too well."
What had transpired between them after she had been led away by Lucy? There was an undeniable tension, but Gwen did not want to dwell on it.
Finally, the doors swung open, and the kingsman stood by it, ushering them into the exquisitely adorned room. The dining hall of the castle was a sight to behold. Imposing in its grandeur, its size shamed the great room at Westside Manor, at least from Gwen's perspective. The walls were painted with rich, dark colours, giving an air of sophistication to the space, while the upholstery boasted materials of the finest quality. Stretching before them, the long table was adorned with an array of dishes and delicacies, some of which Gwen had only ever sampled on special occasions at Westside Manor.
The waiting party gathered immediately and pressed forward. Lord Cossington walked away from them, placing a good distance between them. The servants bowed respectfully and exited the room, closing the door behind them. Gwen followed behind Beth, her steps hesitant as she dragged her feet. It was an unfamiliar place and even with Beth and Lucy beside her, her tensed heart refused to calm down. The company was already a mistake. 'Dear Lord, do not let me sit across or beside him.' She prayed in heart, sincere with every word.
Lifting her head, she spotted the king standing a short distance away from the table, he had a smile that showed warmth but was somehow not it. Standing to his right was the prince, mirroring his brother's smile, while the Duke of Carlisle stood to his left. The men had been patiently awaiting their arrival.
The Duke of Carlisle maintained his characteristic stoic expression, his hands neatly tucked into his pockets. Gwen's eyes stayed for a second and she couldn't help but wonder if the man ever smiled. He stood as tall as the King, perhaps an inch or two shorter, yet still towering over the prince.
The king's smile had an infectious charm, capable of brightening any room, and Gwen would have been fine with it if it did not cause a knot to come loose in her stomach. Though mischievous, it held a hint of unease that unsettled her. 'Lord please, may dinner not devolve into another round of trials and teasing,' she silently prayed, hoping for a reprieve from the tension that lingered in the air.
The Prince stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his smile mirroring that of his brother's, but it did not possess the ability to unsettle her. His eyes, however, did. There was something peculiar about them. When they had passed by each other earlier outside by the wall, she had taken notice but dismissed it as a trick of the light. Now, as she stood closer, she couldn't deny it any longer: the Prince's left eye was different from his right. It was different from the eyes of every other person. A jagged scar stretched from above his brow to his cheek, giving his eye a haunting emptiness, a single look of deadness. Unable to turn her gaze away, Gwen continued to stare, transfixed by the sight until the Prince caught her and winked with the very eye. Flustered and ashamed, she quickly averted her gaze. Could he be blind in that eye?
"Your Majesty, the Dukes of Waichester, Chamberlaene, Wynton, the Viscounts of Sorway and Ackley, your solicitors, the ministers, and Lady Beth, Lady Gwen and Lady Lucy." The kingsman announced their arrival.
The King clapped once. "I see everyone has come. shall we proceed to eat, I am positively famished."
"Your Majesty, thank you for sharing your table with us. And thank you for the tournament today, it was fun to watch." One of the lords said.
"Yes, it must have been." The king replied, stepping forward. "It wasn't as much fun for the parties involved." He commented snidely. "Shall we then."
Everyone nodded and moved to take their seats, but soon confusion rippled through the room. Upon approaching their chairs, they noticed name cards placed in front of each plate. Beth's forehead creased in puzzlement as she examined hers. She was to be seated beside the Duke of Carlisle, with Lucy to her left. Gwen anxiously scanned the table, searching for her own name. Where was she to be seated?
"Um, Your Majesty…?" Someone began.
The King interjected, his voice cutting through the confusion. "Do not be alarmed. There is no cause whatsoever for that. I thought to make tonight's dinner less formal and more enjoyable." Taking his own seat at the head of the table, he continued, "Considering the weight of our political discussions and issues of state for the next few days, I deemed it fitting to set aside titles and wealth for the evening's festivities. What better way is there than this?"
There were other ways. Gwen thought. Men of the ton often sat together to a few bottles of brandy, and of course, cigars, talking about politics and women. There were surely other ways.
Despite the King's reassurances, no one moved, save for the Prince who obediently seated himself to the King's right. The King's humour faded at once as he reiterated, "Sit. Everyone. Take your seats in accordance with your name cards."