The Lady Knight

Chapter IX: Waits and Worries

The Lady Knight

"Ah, mashed potatoes. My absolute favourite."

The Duke smiled uneasily, rubbing his hands in exaggerated anticipation. "Your Royal Highness, do you not agree that no one makes better mashed potatoes than my wife?"

The Prince nodded tightly, but said nothing. The tension in the air was so thick that even the Duke's attempt at making small talk had little effect on the atmosphere. The Duchess of Louvre continued to fix her fierce gaze on the already uncomfortable Evoric, and Lisa had fixed hers on her mother.

In all, I had never been to a more discomfiting dinner.

I closed my hand over Lisa's for a brief moment. "Lisa," I murmured, "glaring at your mother will not solve anything. Did I not promise you earlier that I will help you? Calm down, please."

"But how?" Lisa hissed, "look at her. Nothing will change her mind. What are you planning?"

Unbeknown to her, I was planning to approach the Prince after dinner. In my opinion and from my experience, Monriquans were generally happier and in a better mood after eating a full meal.

At least, I knew I was.

However, I had to take great care to prevent Lisa from discovering my plans. If she knew, I was certain that she would stop me from seeking his help.

She was as prideful as I was, if not more.

"Never mind what I am planning," I whispered in return, "until then, try to remain calm. The atmosphere is making everyone uncomfortable."

She huffed under her breath, nodding, but her eyes were full of curiosity. In the meanwhile, I looked around to check if anyone had heard our little conversation. However, everyone was submerged in their own thoughts, in an attempt to fight off the heavy air pressing down on their shoulders.

Good. I doubted anyone had eavesdropped.

As I dipped my spoon once more into my bowl of mashed potatoes, I was interrupted when I sensed a small, sudden movement near the kitchens from the corner of my eye.

I paused, looking over to find a pair of dark, narrowed eyes focused on the dining table, darting about in impatience, almost in wait for something. I raised my eyebrow, staring straight at the man peeking out from the kitchen.

Strange. I had not seen him around the kitchen when I was helping the Duchess this evening.

I observed him quietly, certain that he was not aware of me watching him. He was wearing a crumpled tunic, his hair was in a mess and he seemed as if he had not shaved for months. There was something almost sinister about the way the ends of his lips were twitching as he observed the dining table.

My forehead creased. Who was he?

"Jules, my darling," the Duchess's concerned voice brought me out my thoughts, "do you not like the mashed potatoes?"

I blinked, my vision focusing on her, as I quickly masked my expression. "Nay, Your Grace," I assured her, "in fact, it is excellent. I was merely lost in my thoughts - "

"Aren't we all?" Lisa muttered under her breath, and I nudged her under the table.

" - and I apologise," I finished, offering the Duchess my most angelic smile that I knew every mother was powerless against.

The Duchess's expression softened. "That is quite all right, dear," she answered fondly, "I am so glad you like it. I reckon that you are merely tired after helping me in the Manor all day - "