The hall of the Stormborne family gleamed under the light of a thousand candles. Gold chandeliers swung gently overhead, and the long table was dressed in crystal, polished silver, and food that steamed faintly in the evening air.
Yet despite all the opulence, the atmosphere carried something colder, an invisible tension that seemed to hum through the marble floor.
Aurelia stepped through the open door, her hand resting lightly on the folds of her green gown, each movement deliberate, her posture straight, her face serene. The air in the hall seemed to shift ... not cold, not hostile, but heavy with scrutiny.
For a heartbeat, the hall went still.
Every head turned toward her...their eyes tracing the green silk that clung to her frame, the short veil that softened her scarred features. She could feel the weight of their stares like hands pressing against her skin.
She had expected just the king's immediate family. But there were others, faces she did not recognize..young women in fine dresses, a few middle-aged men seated farther down the table, their rings glinting as they lifted cups of wine. Cousins, perhaps. Or courtiers desperate to see the cursed bride for themselves.
At the head of the long table sat Valerian, handsomely dressed in black trimmed with gold, the sigil of a thunder engraved at his collar.
His gaze found hers immediately. He didn't smile, but his eyes softened, the faintest flicker of reassurance crossing his features.
To his left sat his mother, the dowager queen Aelira, wearing a peach colored dress, her hair blonde with a little bit of white. Her eyes ...sharp and alive despite her age, followed Aurelia's every step.
Next came Lady Rhaelynn, beautiful still, though her beauty had the brittle quality of glass. Her gown was crimson, her lips painted to match, and her eyes glinted with faint disdain. She reclined lazily, her jeweled fingers toying with her goblet.
Seated beside her was one young man with serpent-green eyes and a smile that looked too polished to be sincere.
The Grand Prince Daeron.
All charm and golden ease, his resemblance to Valerian faint but unmistakable. He raised his goblet in greeting, a half-smile tugging at his lips.
"Welcome to the family table, my lady," Daeron said smoothly, his voice carrying a lazy elegance that made the words sound both genuine and mocking.
Aurelia inclined her head. "Your Grace is kind."
Across from them sat Lady Levina Asterholt, whose warm eyes softened when Aurelia's gaze met hers. Her husband, Ser Corvin, bowed slightly ... polite, but unreadable.
Her steps were steady, her chin lifted just enough to look regal but not proud. The click of her heels echoed softly as she walked the length of the hall, all eyes following until she reached the far end of the table...where the Storm Lord waited.
Valerian rose from his seat the moment she stopped before him.
Aurelia bowed in greeting, her voice calm but low. "My lord."
He reached for her hand, and instead of letting her bow lower, he pulled her gently upright. "My lady Aurelia," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then he turned her to face the table.
"Everyone," his tone was clear and commanding, "this is my bride...your queen. The Lady Aurelia of Ashmere, now Lady Aurelia Stormborne."
The air rippled with quiet murmurs.
At once, every member of the royal line stood and bowed...some out of genuine respect, others because they dared not do otherwise while the Storm Lord's eyes were upon them. Only two women remained seated.
The Dowager Queen, Lady Aelira....Valerian's mother.
And across from her, Lady Rhaelynn Dayne, the former king's concubine.
One cold and stiff as a statue, the other smirking like a cat who'd found cream
Valerian's gaze flicked over them briefly but he said nothing. "Sit," he told Aurelia, and guided her to the seat at his right hand.
A servant pulled out the chair beside Valerian, and Aurelia took her seat.
The herald struck the staff once against the floor. "The banquet may begin."
Servants began to move..filling goblets, bringing platters, carving meat. Yet the clinking of silver against porcelain couldn't mask the unspoken thing hanging in the air.
The Dowager Queen's eyes never left Aurelia. Pale, cold, and precise, her stare was the kind that could flay a soul. She didn't smile. Not once.
Valerian, ever the dutiful son even in defiance, began the introductions. "My lady," he said to Aurelia, "this is my mother, the Dowager Queen Aelira." Then, facing his mother, "Mother… Aurelia."
Aurelia bowed slightly, her voice smooth. "Your Majesty."
The Queen did not return her greeting. "So," she said, her tone sharp as ice, "this is the woman my son married."
She looked Aurelia over slowly, her lip curling faintly. "I cannot say I am pleased. I had hoped the Storm line would not descend to such pity. Truly, Valerian, she's hideous."
The room froze.
Even the servants hesitated mid-motion.
Across the table, Lady Rhaelynn gave a silvery laugh. "Oh, I find it quite fascinating, Your Majesty," she said, leaning forward. "I can hardly wait to see what she gives birth to. Something half-beast, perhaps?"
"Vireon forbid that such a cursed creature births anything for my son," Aelira snapped, turning sharply toward Rhaelynn.
"Perhaps the gods have better taste than you," Rhaelynn retorted, her tone sweetly venomous.
"You little...."
"Enough."
Valerian's voice cut through the tension like thunder. Both women fell silent.
Aurelia said nothing through it all. She sat still, her expression unreadable, though Gwen, standing quietly behind her chair, had gone rigid with anger.
The silence that followed was brittle.
Then dowager queen Aelira wasn't finished yet. She replied her son.
Her gaze slid over Aurelia with open disdain. "This is the woman who bewitched you my son. I suppose I should congratulate her, not many could boast of such a feat. Though looking at her now, I can't help to see that she's quite… unremarkable."
The room went still again.
Aurelia didn't flinch. "Then I shall consider it an achievement to be unremarkable in a hall full of remarkable people," she said, her voice smooth, her tone dry.