The God's Game

Chapter 8- Princess meets the tryant King 2

Wine splattered on the marble floor,like blood spilled from the butchered etiquette. It flowed right in front of the king's pristine white boots, staining them.

River started seeing black spots in his vision from how nefarious and disgraceful the action was. He wanted nothing but to be dismissed so he could flee all the way to his beloved confinement in the East Wing, away from this secondhand embarrassment.

"Is the wine not to your liking, My Lord?" King Lucian asked, feigning concern. It was obvious that he was trying his best not to draw his sword on his unruly guest.

"Why, the wine indeed tasted rather unpleasant."

The Southern King had a trail of vivid red wine flowing down his chin, neck, and chest. If the situation wasn't so awful, River might have taken a minute to appreciate how incredibly senductive he looked.

Aithan held out a neatly folded white handkerchief to his king,muttering something under his breath. Raven Alistair wiped his sleeve across his mouth, not even sparing a glance at it.

River decided he had seen enough for tonight. If he sees the Southern King breach one more etiquette rule, his soul will leave his mortal body behind and ascend.

River bowed, "If I were excused," and took a step back, only to be stopped by the bandit.

"This young lady here will testify, he said as he walked over to him, cup in hand. He stood so close to River, like no one had ever explained the concept of personal space to him.

River took a step back, putting space between them. The last thing he wanted was to get dragged into this drama.

"The wine is fine," Mireya rebuked before anyone could shoot a "please don't start" glare at her.

Raven's eye narrowed with a mischievous gleam.

"And I'm telling you, it's not my lady. It tastes off. That single sip ruined my appetite for the night." He blinked innocently,looking wronged.

Everyone in the small circle knew he was purposely trying to kick some shit up. Only Mireya insisted on defending her beloved wine.

But then again, she wasn't the brightest pumpkin in the patch.

"This is the finest wine the whole nation has to offer, brewed for three years, My Lord. No one else complained about it."

Now that the Queen has started running her mouth, there is no salvaging the situation.

"That's exactly why I'm asking this young miss to taste it." Raven pushed the cup into his palm before River could object.

"So everyone knows I'm not lying."

River had a gut feeling that Raven Alistair was plotting something devious, and everyone was playing right into his hands. But he gripped the cup firmly, not knowing what else to do.

He brought the rim of the cold cup to his lips, smelling the sweet,fruity aroma of the wine. His nose picked up an underlying hint of rancidity, but he guessed he must have imagined it.

Everyone's eyes were on him as he took a small sip from the cup. The wine burned down his throat, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste. He licked his lips, trying to find anything off about their taste.

River had not drunk this wine before. There was no way he could know what tastes were supposed to be there and what was not. But he took a few more sips, trying very hard to find what had offended the king so much.

"If you need to drink that much of it, it's probably fine," Mireya retorted.

River glanced at Ayla, begging with his eyes for help. It felt like whatever he said about the wine could immediately plunge two nations into a bloody war.

"What notes of flavor can you taste?"
Ayla asked softly.

"It's bitter and has a sweet aftertaste."
River chose his words carefully. "A little sour too."

Mireya's face fell immediately. Raven snatched the cup from his hands and very rudely threw it to the side. The golden cup clanged on the marble floor and rolled away. The earsplitting noise echoed through the hall, killing all hushed conversations.

Even the music came to a screech halt with a snap of a harp string.

"The wine had gone sour," Raven hissed, his face as reddened as an angry lobster. "How disrespectful!"

That's rich, coming from you.

The clatter had grabbed the attention of those few who weren't already invested in the drama. River's cheeks warmed in hyperawareness of the four hundred bewildered eyes on them.

"How shall we compensate for My Lord's inconvenience?" Valour interfered hastily, trying to de-escalate the situation.

The diplomatic way was to politely reject compensation. Say that a bit of off-tasting wine was not enough to jeopardize the peace and good spirit between two nations, or something like that. Then bow and disperse.

"12 barrels of softberry wine"

Everyone looked at Raven like he had a screw loose.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me," Raven said. "12 barrels of wine that haven't gone sour."

So he was just after free booze?

Callidorian storages wouldn't even feel the loss of a dozen barrels of wine. The Verlices, however, might suffer permanent nerve damage if this interaction continues. The king seemed ready to offer up an entire nation's worth of wine if it got Raven Alistair out of his face.

"It will be arranged promptly." The king nodded to a gaurd nearby, who scurried away. Probably to the wine storages.

"I appreciate it very much." Raven smiled sweetly, the mirth not reaching his eyes. "We Southern folks take our wine very seriously. I hope My Lord understands."

River did not stick around anymore to see how the rest of the drama went. The King was way too distracted to dismiss him from the company anyway, so he silently slipped away into the crowd.

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