A shadow flickered across Alaric’s face, but it was gone so quickly she almost thought she imagined it. "Yes. The arrangement is...advantageous." He set his cup down with deliberate care. "But enough of politics. We are here to enjoy ourselves."
Lara’s lips curled up, and her eyes turned into crescents.
Peredur, observing from the side, noticed the radiant smile that danced across her lips, illuminating her face. "What are you smiling about?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
Prince Alaric looked at Lara, his eyes brightened, and a smile ghosted his lips before he turned his eyes toward the door.
As if on cue, the attendant returned, carrying a lacquered tray of delicacies—venison simmered in wine and garnished with ginger and pepper, roast turkey glazed with honey and rosemary, grilled fish, freshly baked bread, mashed potato, and a few meat and vegetable dishes.
Peredur’s eyes grew wide with delight. The meal was not the usual one that people of Northem would eat. The cuisine might have been borrowed from merchants who visited once a year from faraway countries.
He wasted no time, reaching for a slice of the turkey, dipping it into the gravy, and popping it into his mouth, barely stifling a groan of satisfaction.
Alaric chuckled, the sound warm and unexpected. "I’m glad to see the food is appreciated."
Lara allowed herself a small smile as she took a delicate bite of the venison. In modern times, deer meat was something you could not buy from the grocery stores, so she was curious how it tasted. "It’s delicious," she admitted, her eyes meeting Alaric’s briefly before she looked away.
"You know," Alaric began, his tone casual but his gaze intent, "I never did thank you properly for what you did back in Ourea and for your medicine when my men had diarrhea."
Lara, who was about to bite a slice of the deer meat, paused. She glanced at Alaric and steadied herself, her eyes snapping to his. "It was nothing, Your Highness," she replied quickly, almost too quickly. "Anyone would have done the same. Besides, you have given silver for that."
"I disagree," Alaric said, his voice softening. "Not anyone would risk their life for someone they barely knew."
Lara met his pair of obisdian orbs. "A physician would." She replied casually.
Prince Alaric held her gaze for some time, trying to gauge the truth in her statement.
"There was a young boy, about 12 or 13, I saved in Meander Pass. He was part of the rebels waiting in ambush for the Northem soldiers. It was unfortunate they encountered Aramis and me. They left that boy alone. He would definitely die If I did not help him."
Peredur glanced up, his cheeks puffing up from eating the venison. "You saved him? Wasn’t he the enemy?" he asked, incredulity threading his voice.
Lara’s cheeks flamed. "He was just a boy. Besides, it was hardly saving," she murmured. "I just...did what I could, and it was up to fate if he survived or not."
Alaric’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "You did more than you know," he said quietly. His fingers brushed the edge of his cup, eyes lowering. "You have a habit of underestimating your own bravery."
"I don’t. I know my worth, Alaric, and I never undermine my value," Lara said in a serious tone. She may be a failure with her family, but she knew her capabilities in her work.
Peredur coughed awkwardly. Wasn’t her sister too familiar with the prince to talk like that? He was scared that Alaric might get angry.
The room seemed to tighten with unspoken words, tension coiling beneath the surface. Peredur’s fingers flexed against his porcelain cup as he struggled for something—anything—to say.
Before he could find his voice, the food server reappeared, bowing deeply. "Would His Highness and esteemed guests care for dessert? We have fresh lychee with sweet cream and honey tarts."
Peredur breathed a sigh of relief. The undercurrents in the room seemed to have calmed down.
Lara exhaled softly, grateful for the interruption. "I suppose...that sounds lovely," she added, her voice a touch softer.
Alaric gave a nod, his expression smoothing back into regal composure. "Three, then," he replied. "And some wine."
The food server bowed and went away, leaving the three of them in silence, save for the soft clatter of cups and the murmur of conversation drifting in from the main hall.
Lara dared a glance at Alaric, finding him watching her with a gaze that felt far too penetrating. She looked away, her heart tapping an unsteady rhythm against her ribs. She breathed deeply and regained her composure.
Alaric took something from his pocket. It was a gift wrapped in leather and tied with a golden cord.
"This is..." Lara stammered.
"A thank you gift," the prince said casually, his gaze never leaving Lara.
"Sister, open it." Peredur urged.
Lara rolled her eyes and shot her brother a queer look. She thought that Peredur was a bookworm, the nerdy type, but she was wrong. She gently untied the golden cord and unrolled the leather.
Her eyes widened. She picked up the knife, pulled out the thin one from the casing, put it back fluidly, and then pulled out the second one and unfolded it, turning it into a longer knife.
Alaric’s attention was wholly focused on her. The corner of his lips tugged when he saw how pleased Lara was.
"This is amazing. I didn’t think someone could make something in this era." Lara was so excited that she blurted out what was on her mind.
Alaric frowned. What did she mean by that?
"It would be good if there is a small scissors as well." Lara’s eyes were sparkling when she looked back at Alaric. "Thank you, Alaric. This is awesome. I like it."
Peredur frowned. "Sister, how could you like a knife for a gift. Wouldn’t it be better if you got jewelry instead? A necklace or a bracelet?"
Lara just laughed. "Brother, jewelry is just for vanity. This," she lifted the pocket knife in her hand and twirled it, "is practical. It’s useful, you know."
Alaric felt a warmth creep into his heart. He was pleased that Lara appreciated his gift. He picked the right one.
"Ari," Lara was happy she unconsciously addressed Alaric by his nickname. "Can I meet the master who crafted this?"
A smile ghosted Alaric’s lips.
"But you already met him," he said mysteriously.
"You mean, Matthias?"