The hall was larger...vast enough that my footsteps echoed despite the thick rugs beneath my feet.
So much for subtle intimidation.
Chandeliers burned overhead, dripping light like molten gold.
Long banquet tables stretched endlessly, already filled with nobles dressed in their finest silks and jewels.
Soft music swelled from the violins, elegant and measured.
Naturally. Nothing says welcome like orchestral judgment.
"Prince Tristen and Princess Ioana have arrived at the banquet!!" the crier announced.
Tristen. Nice name. I thought.
Every eye turned.
Not subtly.
Not politely.
I knew a dangerous place when I stepped into one...and this place wore danger like perfume.
I straightened instinctively, lifting my chin.
Well. If I was going to be judged, I might as well give them something worth judging.
Tristen, My newly minted husband, walked beside me, unreadable as stone. His presence alone parted the room like a blade through silk.
I tried not to roll my eyes. Really tried.
Tristen took his place without hesitation, while I drowned in stares sharp enough to trip me if I let them.
Then, without asking, without ceremony...he pulled out the chair beside him.
For me.
Murmurs rippled.
I raised a brow. "Well. That was… unexpected."
"Are you going to sit," he murmured, "or keep assessing?"
Ah. So the charm was selective. Figures
I sat.
The meal began with orchestral precision, plates placed, goblets filled, conversation reluctantly revived.
I could feel scrutiny like heat against my skin.
Whispers slid across the table.
She doesn't bow properly.
She's smaller than expected.
Is that really her posture?
I smiled brightly and picked up my fork.
Wrong one.
A noblewoman flinched like I'd declared war.
Tristen didn't look at me. "That is for fish."
I glanced at my plate. Meat. Potatoes. Something suspiciously green.
"Well," I said lightly, switching utensils, "tell the fish I apologize."
Someone laughed and immediately regretted it.
Across the table, Kaelric lifted his wine cup in a silent salute.
Garden boy Kaelric. Possibly dangerous but definitely entertaining.
And then...the Queen.
Oh. That woman did not sit beside power.
She was power.
Pearls framed her throat like destiny had personally placed them there.
Her gown wasn't just elegant, it was deliberate. Every stitch whispered control.
Noted.
Rule one of survival: be on the Queen's good side.
Rule two: never forget rule one.
I smiled.
"Your Majesty," I said warmly, inclining my head, "I hope you won't think me improper for saying this...but your taste is extraordinary."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face.
Good. Surprise meant opportunity.
"That gown," I added lightly, "it doesn't just suit you. It obeys. I don't think I've ever seen authority worn so beautifully."
Silence stretched. Then the Queen smiled.
Not sharp.
Not thin.
Real.
"Flattery," she said smoothly, "is a dangerous game, Princess."
I met her gaze, calm and steady.
"Then I hope you'll accept it as admiration."
The atmosphere shifted.
Fans fluttered. Heads leaned together. Whispers sparked like flint.
While they reacted, I observed.
The man on the Queen's left...tight mouth, narrowed eyes. Suspicious.
The woman in emerald green...watching me too closely. Dangerous.
Two advisors midway down the table...one curious, one already annoyed.
I filed every face away.
If this place was a battlefield, I'd just drawn the map.
"I know I have much to learn," I said calmly. "And I would be honored to learn it from you, Your Majesty."
The Queen studied me for a long moment.
Then...
"Rest assured, Princess."
Well. The court didn't know what to do with me anymore.
Neither, apparently, did Tristen.
I felt his gaze now...sharp, unsettled. Like he was realizing I wasn't the liability he'd prepared for.
I kept my expression serene.
Let them wonder.
I hadn't survived one life by being stupid.