Ch. 3: Dinner

Hayward thanked her and shut the door behind her as she left. Then he turned and looked over the room. It was nice, possibly nicer than his own back home. He took a slow breath and licked his lips. The place even smelled nice.

Ok, idiot. Focus. Foreign castle, upcoming dinner. Get cleaned up. He set to work, stripping out of his dirty traveling clothes and drawing a bath. Out of habit, he stopped when the water was only a couple of inches deep.

Wait. They have plenty of water here, don't they? He looked closely at the sides of the tub for any indication and quickly found the faint deposits of soap he wanted. Usually filled up. Oh, this will be heavenly.

It had been years since the young prince had enjoyed a full bathtub. He sat in the tub and waited for the water to rise around him. While he savored its soothing power, his mind churned.

Ok. I'm here. In Treiaul. They appear happy to have me. Possibly too happy. I think her mother is going to try to get us paired up. Can't read the king yet.

Oh gods, I'm going to a feast. I'm going to have to socialize with these people, and act political. I hate this part.

And there's still the matter of my 'guards.'

Hayward had been uneasy with the other men on the trip since first meeting them. Aside from Dantares and Deker, the others were hand-picked by his father. The king had said that he trusted them explicitly, and that's why they were being sent. That was honestly more worrying. Rather than traveling with guards who would be loyal to Hayward, he was with men who were loyal to his father. He tried not to worry, but it was disconcerting.

While lost in thought, Dantares knocked lightly on the door and then entered without waiting for a response. Hayward whistled softly, letting his old tutor and friend know where to find him.

"You were right," Dantares said from the bedroom. "This place is beautiful." He was already unpacking Hayward's bags, laying out clothes on the bed. "And so is the princess," he added with a teasing laugh.

"Oh, shut up. I don't even want to think about that," Hayward shot back, shaking his head as he bathed. "It really looks like her mother is going to force her on me."

"There are worse fates."

"Well, sure, but... well, you know."

Dantares laughed again. "Yes, you're a hopeless romantic who believes in love rather than arranged marriages, and yet refuses to see that the former can grow from the latter. Or do you believe I don't love my wife?"

"Oh, shut up," the prince muttered as he started washing his hair. They'd gone back and forth on the topic of love for much of the last decade. Joining the military and earning a position leading a border patrol had given Hayward far more freedom and control over his life than most princes (and princesses). Thusly, he found himself unwilling to give up that control again, to allow others to decide for him.

He soon finished bathing and dried off, returning to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dantares had prepared an outfit for him, a white shirt and pants, expertly tailored to match the young prince's body, and decorated with detailed maroon embroidery across the shoulders and at the cuffs. It was not as shiny or flashy as the silver outfits of the elves, but at least he wouldn't look too out of place. The other men would dress in simple, white formal attire, adequate if not impressive.

The prince spent a few minutes tending to his hair, combing it out into an obsidian black waterfall down his back, then putting it into a simple braid that ran from the back of his head to just above his waist. Satisfied, Hayward rang the little bell on the nightstand. As promised, an elven attendant appeared moments later.

"We are ready," the prince said simply.

The attendant nodded and lead them down to the great hall, where a feast awaited them. Every kind of meat, fish, fruit, and vegetable you could imagine (and a few she felt sure the prince had never seen) had been prepared in his honor. Elissa sat to the right of her mother and there were spare, open chairs beside her for him and his men.

A servant had helped Elissa re-fix her hair in much in the same style as her siblings: a plaited circlet of golden strands with the rest left long and hanging to her hips. Unlike her siblings, her hair had a delicate wave to it. Theirs were all board straight down their backs. A piece of jewelry, signaling her position as the eldest princess, sat prominently on her brow. They had braided the silver structure with several sparkling opals that hung from it into the circlet on her head so that the center-most jewel hung onto her forehead, the others, much smaller, falling at her hairline. It seemed to disappear into the circlet, then dip back down in three lines of silver draping to the next point where they once again disappeared into her hair.

Hayward rolled his shoulders and try to relax as they walked to the great hall. He wasn't going to the gallows, just to a dinner with the neighboring king and queen. Who were trying to pair him up with their oldest daughter. He shook his head.

Forget that. Forget her. Focus on dinner. Don't do anything stupid or crude or offensive. Just... don't be yourself. Be someone else for a few hours. Then I get to rest.

His eyes darted around the great hall as they entered, taking in everything he could. The people, the layout, the windows and doors. He liked to know where the exits were. Dantares liked to call it paranoia. The prince caught the slightest glimpse of Elissiana and pointedly kept his eyes off of her for a little longer.

She looks good. Focus. Check out everything else first. His eyes kept moving, finding the king and queen. He nodded respectfully and approached the table.

And then his eyes finally settled on the princess. She was stunning, like nothing he'd ever seen before. Everything was extraordinary, from the silver gown and pale white skin to the jewels in her hair. And her hair itself! He'd seen nothing like it, golden and wavy rather than the straight and black common to his home.

Well, damn. I feel a bit underdressed.

He did his best not to leer, but he couldn't really hide it as his pupils went wide. He offered her a polite smile as he took his chair, trying to think of something to say. Merely complimenting her on her appearance felt... odd. And then there was the matter of her parents, sitting nearby and likely capable of hearing every word he said.

"Good evening," she greeted him as he came into the room, offering him the seat beside her. She, of course, did not pick the seating arrangements. That was all her mother's doing.

She's going to push me down his throat until he wants nothing to do with me. Not that I mind him having no interest in me. But still...if she wanted this to work, she's going about it all wrong. Elissa thought as he took the seat next to her.

The king stood, tapping a crystal glass with his long fingernail. "Thank you all for joining us this evening.." The 'all' he addressed were more than just his wife and children and Hayward's men. At the long table were also several Elven dignitaries who attended in order to welcome the Prince into their lands.

"We celebrate the continued efforts for positive relations with Aasleagh. May you have a pleasant stay here in Treiaul, and may our kingdoms be evermore in cooperation. That is the wish of all here tonight and if our people."

He raised the glass higher, and those around the table followed suit. "Cheers," and took down a sip followed by the others.

Hayward sat up straight and listened intently as the King spoke, turning his head to look at him. Elissiana was in the way, of course, and so his eyes constantly darted between the princess and her father, taking in the little details of her outfit and appearance while listening to the king's words. He raised his glass along with the others and took a small sip. He didn't mind the drink, but he also knew he was tired; and alcohol would only make that worse. And I'm more likely to say something stupid when I drink.

Servants passed around plates, picking up the dishes and offering them to each person at the table before putting a portion on their plates of the attendees. There was far more food than plate, but it left room for preference. As something strangely purple came by them, Elissa nodded happily. "Try it," she encouraged. "It's sweet but a little tangy. They're boiled for two days to bring out the natural sweetness; which makes for a mushy texture, but the taste is great..." she assumed it was one of many things a foreigner would've never tried, but the amaranthine was one of her favorites.

After a day of riding, it took everything he had not to fill his plate with the tastiest meat he could find and call it quits. An elbow in the ribs from Dantares reminded him to behave. There was plenty of food and a variety to experience, and he could take his time. He raised a curious eyebrow at the purple vegetable, but was at least willing to try it. "Boiled for two days? I'm surprised it still tastes like anything at that point." He took a bite and nodded. "Huh. That's... well, better than I'd expect after two days in a pot." He took another bite. "Interesting."

She smiled at his reaction to the odd vegetable. "It's a very hard root vegetable. If you tried to eat it raw, you'd break your teeth..." she informed with a laugh. "Maybe it's an acquired taste. But it's one of my favorites. I have been eating it since childhood though." She knew many of the things they had there weren't to the taste of strangers. Trolls from the north had visited six months before, and watching them eat some of the native fruits and vegetables had been quite amusing.

Hayward glanced to one side, noticing that some of his men hadn't been as reserved about their drinking. They weren't quite loud yet, but they were definitely providing a backdrop of noise. He thought it might provide enough cover to say a few words without being overheard. He glanced briefly at the princess to get her attention and leaned slightly toward her. "You don't look like you want to be here much more than I do," he said, his lips hardly moving and his voice less than a whisper. "But you do look lovely. I've never seen hair like yours in my life." He straightened up again and ate another forkful of amaranthine, watching her face for a reaction.

"No...you're right...this isn't exactly my favorite thing.." she said rather quietly, but blushed at his next comment. "Th—thank you." He'd chosen her hair to comment on, not the obvious. It was... nice.

She then watched him eat another forkful, despite not being that keen on it. He was trying to impress her, or at the very least...be nice to her. That was admirable. It was also breaking down her defenses slightly. That nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something was simply off about him was dissipating.

She took another sip of the wine, knowing it was quite strong but not minding. Elissa took note that his cup was still mostly full. "Stronger than you're used to?" She inquired, tilting her head toward the glass. "I find it hard to believe that any man just doesn't drink..." it was certainly a rarity around the Elves, and his men hadn't held back. Even her younger siblings had finished their glasses, but they were allowed to drink from childhood. Rarely did any of them drink to be drunk. It was merely a social custom.

"Well, it's not that I don't drink," the prince replied, a sly smile spreading across his lips. "Merely that my manners, such as they are, can start to... suffer." He shrugged. "And it's worse when I'm tired, which I am." He gestured toward the men sitting beside him. "I believe that Dantares and Deker have a wager going regarding how long it takes for my tongue to get me in trouble. I'm hoping to at least make it past the first night." He picked up his drink again and took another small sip. "And this is strong, without being harsh; it would be easy to drink too much and not realize until I was being thrown back down the mountainside with orders never to return."

She laughed at his remarks. "After this...there's cake. So if you have a sweet tooth, save room. Then if you're still up for it, the tour I promised..." she told him. The hour was starting to get late and after traveling all day he might want to hold off on that until the next day. She wouldn't be offended if he declined. It meant she got to get out of the damned dress quicker and be alone. However, showing him around wouldn't be the worst fate.

He raised his eyebrows at the mention of cake. "Well, perhaps not a sweet tooth, but I'm very interested to see what your desserts are like." Almost instinctively, his eyes flicked down from her face to the neckline of her dress and then back up again.

Oh, dammit. He glanced back at his plate and found something to stuff in his mouth. She's a princess and probably expects a little more respect...

"I'm looking forward to the tour, but... I think it should wait until morning," he said after regaining his composure. "That bed was calling my name already." He didn't want to come out and say it, but his accommodations as a visitor here were likely better than his own back home. And even then, he was rarely home to begin with, choosing instead to spend most of his time away from the capitol.

"Well, if you go straight to bed, I suppose you can avoid your tongue getting you into trouble tonight," she laughed, noticing where his eyes had drifted to. Damn this dress. I know she made it specifically so my breasts would hang out. Like I could expect him NOT to look? They're basically boosted up to my chin... Her mother had a tendency towards a lack of subtlety.

He shrugged. "It seems like an achievable goal, to be here for at least a day before offending anyone. I like to keep my expectations reasonable." Truthfully, he would have liked to get through the entire visit without incident, but he just... didn't think that was likely. At the very least, he was going to slip and say something inappropriate in relation to her dress. Perhaps not that night, but as soon as he felt more comfortable and let his guard down.

Shortly after their exchange, four servants carried out a large layered cake, decorated with edible jewels made of colored sugar. The cake was four layers tall, and each layer was a unique flavor. Each flavor was one native to the kingdom of Treiaul: a tree nut flavor similar to almond, a fruit flavor like a cross between a coconut and a banana, a coffee flavor of specific beans only grown in their forests, and a liquor flavor made with mulled wine. They sliced the cake thinly and distributed each piece amongst the partygoers. She then leaned over to explain the different flavors to Hayward.

"The tan is nut, the yellow is fruit, the brown is coffee, and the red is mulled wine. If you have a particular distaste for any of those flavors, that's the color you should avoid..." she warned before diving her fork into a piece and popping it into her mouth. He might not have a sweet tooth, per se, but she certainly did.

The servants came around once more to fill their glasses, and she drank down a second glass of the strong wine like it was water. She wondered if he thought it odd, her drinking. She knew in some other cultures women didn't drink it all, and if they did it was extreme moderation, but she didn't ask. This was her home, and she was comfortable being herself in it.

The cake drew a soft chorus of 'ooh's and 'ah's from the visitors, most of whom had never seen one so tall, and the few that they had seen were mostly decorative. Hayward merely raised his eyebrows. He listened closely as Elissiana described the different layers, clearly impressed. "I don't think I've seen a cake like this before—at least, not one that was meant to be eaten. I've heard rumors that the royal bakery tried something like this, and it was an utter disaster. Ever since, if they've made anything so large, it was purely decorative—made of bread or something simpler and then simply covered in frosting."

He was, as always, willing to try new things at least once. He took a large bite of each of the slices and chewed thoughtfully. "This is delicious," he remarked, before diving in. Shortly thereafter, all but the coffee-flavored slice had vanished. He hadn't touched that one since the first bite. He leaned back slightly in his chair and glanced at the princess again. She didn't appear drunk, but she had easily put down two glasses of strong wine. Did she simply have an impressive tolerance? Or was this a trait of the elves, to drink without drunkenness?

"So, um... is this the last of our obligations for the night, assuming we're putting off the tour until daylight?" He still spoke quietly, but did not whisper like before. If her parents heard him this time, he didn't much mind.

"Yes," she said with a laugh. "You're welcome to head back to your room and rest. I can escort you back if you like..." she said with a kind smile. She wasn't even close to drunk, but she was much more at ease now.

She nodded to her parents, then said, "Our guest is exhausted from traveling. I shall escort him back to his room for the evening." Her mother opened her mouth to say something, but one raise of Elissa's finger had her close it once more.

"Come on," she said, getting up from her chair and moving toward the exit, assuming he was following behind her.