The day turned into night, and the court gathered for a banquet in Alina's honor. The long tables were laden with an extravagant feast, but the atmosphere was tense. Alina could feel the eyes of the nobles on her, watching her every move, waiting for her to make a mistake.
Kael, seated at the head of the table, raised his goblet. "To my bride," he declared, his tone dripping with a mocking sweetness. "May she prove more entertaining than the last."
Laughter erupted from the courtiers, though there was a cruel edge to it. Alina's heart clenched, but she forced a serene smile. This was a game of power, and she would not allow herself to be baited so easily.
As the night wore on, the guests grew bolder. A baroness, her cheeks flushed with wine, leaned forward and said, "Your Highness, do tell us—how does a delicate flower like you plan to survive in such a harsh land?"
Alina met the woman's gaze without flinching. "A flower can thrive even in the harshest soil if it has the will to grow," she replied smoothly. The room went silent, the baroness's smug expression faltering. Kael's eyes flashed with something like approval, though it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
But as the banquet continued, Kael began to test her patience, making subtle jabs that drew laughter from his sycophants. At one point, he leaned close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You play the part well, Princess," he whispered. "But remember, I see through your masks."
Alina's heart skipped a beat, but she did not turn to face him. "And perhaps I see through yours, Your Majesty," she replied softly, her voice steady.
For a moment, Kael's expression changed—something dark and unfathomable flickered in his eyes—but he simply leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "We shall see," he said, leaving her to wonder if she had just made a grave mistake.