The Princess and the Blade

[Soran Nightblade]

"Your Ivie. What a fascinating claim," Cera smiled beautifully.

"Tenara," Havi greeted her by name, as if to re-emphasize the intimate position she claimed to have with him. "This is my eldest sister, Marquess Cera Ruthe."

His sister's eyes narrowed, her face all teeth as she gestured to the empty seats at the table. "Clearly there is much to discuss, but first, do let us eat. It sounds like the night was short for all of you."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara moved to the table and took a seat. The mask on her face felt brittle and hard to maintain. She was hungry. Starving. But she didn't feel the desire to with her nerves so high. She felt more comfortable at the table when Havi and the others joined her.

Could his sister tell? Hadn't Kishva been able to? She had mentioned Tenara's fault in not bonding Havitharon. Her heart began thundering in her chest, and she reached down beneath the table and grasped hold of the cloth at Havi's hip.

[Soran Nightblade]

Cera's chin lifted elegantly, peering along Tenara's torso. "Tell me more about you, Princess. Kosa tells me you are from another wyrmway. It must be a dangerous place indeed, since you come so well armed to breakfast."

[Emora Deen]

Tenara glanced down at the sword at her hip. "Forgive me... It's a habit. I mean no offense," she said. "It was a gift and means a great deal to me, and I carry it wherever I go."

[Soran Nightblade]

"How lovely," Cera said idly. "May I hold it?"

Havi and Ren both tensed slightly.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara hesitated. She felt the itch of panic, felt the fear of making the wrong choice scratch her magic. The pressure bloomed beneath the surface of her skin. She could -not- let her hold it. No matter what. She crushed down the panic, and bowed her head toward Cera. "I know you mean no offense," she said. "Where I come from, it is highly improper to ask such a thing. A gifted weapon is held in as high regard as... an Ivis. To ask to hold such a thing is akin to asking to touch a Yurivis's male."

[Soran Nightblade]

Cera smiled sharply. "Fascinating. As you wish... I was merely curious. Such quaint weapons have fallen out of favor here, so we rarely see them. They are difficult to wield properly within the confines of the wyrmways."

Mercifully, two servants entered through the kitchen door with a cart. On it were several ornate ceramic domes covering earthen plates.

"Oh, good. Our meals have arrived."

The maids began politely setting a dome-covered plate in front of each of them. Both servants looked tense, as if feeling immense pressure at their assigned task. When everyone was served, the maids began lifting away each dome, revealing... a perfectly normal breakfast. At least for this world.

That was, until they got to Tenara. When the maid lifted away her dome, Cera's eyes sharpened knowingly, while Kishva snorted in amusement. Her breakfast consisted of long, narrow mushrooms that curved like pitch-black helixes across her plate. A small cluster of moon moss had been set as a garnish, the same as the other plates.

[Emora Deen]

Tenara's eyes settled on the spiraling mushrooms. She stared at it for a long time, partly confused and partly fascinated. Her gaze lifted from the plate and turned towards Havitharon. *Is this... poisonous?* And then, Tenara had a thought, recalling the name Havitharon had given her when they first met. The one Ren still insisted using for him. "Thvoros?"

[Soran Nightblade]

*Do not eat it,* Havi thought, his tone hard and angry as he glared at his sister.

Cera was only focused on Tenara. "Oh, I was given to understand that this dish aligned with your tastes. Was I mistaken?"

[Emora Deen]

Tenara had half a mind to take a big bite of the inky black mushroom just to spite the woman, but wasn't certain if it would kill her or not. Maybe it would affect her differently since she wasn't from this world, but that wasn't a risk they could take. She'd already had one experience with Toothsbane, and wasn't certain it would fix poisoning.

Tenara poked at the mushroom with the fork. "It is lovely," she said. "You were not mistaken. However, I think traveling stole my appetite. Please forgive me."

That was a filthy lie. Tenara was so, so hungry. She hadn’t eaten a meal in days—having been too scared to eat or drink what Elias brought them. But she knew this was a test. That the mushroom represented the being next to her, and if she could devour it to prove she claimed Havitharon, she would. But, since she couldn’t, she pretended to want to, and abstained from doing so.