The long journey had left the Noble Bloods eager to accept Elion's invitation, and they made their way toward the main hall, where the maids had already laid out the table, this time horizontally, allowing host and guests to face one another.
As the nobles settled into their seats, a subtle hierarchy naturally formed. The weakest Bloods of the five were positioned at the corners, farthest from Elion, who commanded the center of the opposite side.
The arrangement was not oppressive; a few feet of distance did little to hinder the conversation that would follow, yet the order was unmistakable.
Blood An and Alvein claimed the side seats, while Blood Tarba and Seraph took the chairs adjacent to the most prestigious of the Bloods present, Blood Maroux, who sat comfortably in the center, radiating the authority a Crownbound was capable of.
As it was customary, nobody talked while the food was being eaten, but the game had already begun.
Glances were thrown around, smirks shown, and quickly wiped off. These were the politics of the Bloods. They hoped to be allies, but allies do not mean friends, after all.
But the quiet politics ended as soon as the food did, allowing for the spoken politics to begin as the wine and tea were being poured into silver cups.
"Once again," Elion started, clearing his throat, "I thank you all for coming. I do hope that tomorrow's talks will be a productive day for all involved."
"Tomorrow?" asked Renn Alvein, "But I thought we would be having the talks now."
"It would've been so if it were at an earlier hour, but I assume you are all tired," replied Auren.
"Oh dear, you don't even know," Fiamma giggled, "I feel like sleeping for days, but there is business to be made and discussions to be had. While we can keep the talks of defense against the Iron Line for tomorrow, the marriage prospect of my son needs to be discussed tonight."
"Fair enough," Elion nodded, "Lord Maroux, what about you and Lady Celine?"
"I find myself in agreement with Lady Fiamma; the marriage prospect takes precedence for us."
Hoping for a slight delay, Elion turned to his other guests, "Lord An, Lord Alvein, is it fine with you two to talk tomorrow?"
"It is most ideal for me, my old bones do not hold the same vigor they once did," Erol An laughed quietly.
"If Lady Fiamma and Lord Lucien have such important matters to discuss, we will, of course, postpone it for tomorrow," nodded Renn Alvein, his cold voice sending shivers down Kael and Lune's spines, who had tried to make themselves small since earlier.
Their anxiety was increasing by the minute in Blanc's absence.
"And what about you," Elion said as he looked up to the giant man in front of him, "My good friend, Lord Tarba?"
"Mmm," Tarba nodded in agreement, not muttering a single word.
"So it is," Elion nodded, knowing he was running out of time, "But now, please, enjoy yourselves with our local wines, one of our proudest products."
"Truly delicious," smiled Lucien, taking the goblet from his lips, "Will you sell me a few barrels? I find it quite pleasant."
"Nonsense, my Lord Lucien, they are yours to take. As many as you please," Valar smiled charmingly.
"Is it really? My utmost appreciation."
"My Lords, Lady," Mera spoke, entering the conversation, "Forgive my question, but I found it odd to see you all arriving at such a late hour as well as together. Has something happened on the road? Were there any issues?"
"Mmm," Tarba nodded to her question, still drinking the wine from his cup.
"Indeed, as you say, Lady Mera," Erol An replied with a sigh.
Renn Alvein spoke next, "There has been an outbreak in a city bordering my Domain from Lord An's Domain. At least ten Moroi appeared."
"By the Vita," muttered Elion.
"Yes," An muttered, "We were not able to contain them inside the city, so they escaped, towards other Domains, spreading their filth like a sickness."
"We were attacked on the road," Tarba added for the first time since arriving, his voice echoing like thunder in the main hall, "But we killed them."
"So it happened that we were passing that same road as the attack happened, and we offered our aid," giggled Fiamma, looking at the tall man.
"But out of concern, we took a more visibly advantageous road towards here, which made us arrive at a later hour," concluded Lucien, "We apologize."
"Please, no need for apologies, your safe arrival here is the most important thing," Elion waved his hands, easing the tension.
Lune and Kael watched this interaction with bored expressions, not understanding the game behind the words of the adults, but a word caught Lune's attention. "What is a Moroi?"
"Lune dear," Auren sighed, "Later."
"No, Lady Auren, I would be happy to explain," Lucien laughed as he faced Lune, "What is your name, little flower?"
"Lune Denegis, My, uh, My Lord," said Lune, getting up and doing a fast curtsy.
"Ah, I remember now, and you must be Kael, right?" Lucien asked.
"Ah, yes, Lord Lucien. But how do you know?" replied Kael, panicked by the sudden mention of his name.
Lucien chuckled, a warm smile on his face, "I was there when the High Monarch gave his blessings to you as babies."
"Wow…" muttered Lune, amazed while at the same time not remembering a single thing of what Lucien spoke about.
"But now, back to your question. A Moroi is a cursed being who harvested too much Raw Vita from a single specific source… Ugly stuff indeed," he explained, his language a little simpler as he addressed Lune.
"So a Moroi is an animal who ate too much and now he is angry?" asked Lune.
Hearing her, An and Fianna broke into laughter, and Lucien into a quiet chuckle as he replied, "Not just any beast, men."
"Men?" Kael asked, not remembering reading about such a being.
"Men who killed too many men, absorbing all of their Raw Vita, beyond limits. Making them disfigured, mutilated creatures that spread sickness and rampage around, their single purpose being to kill whatever moves."
"And did you defeat them all?" Lune asked, her eyes glittering with excitement.
"We did," Lucien nodded with a smile, "At least all that were there. Who knows how many there are now?"
Lune stood silent, hearing his words, but her excitement was visible enough.
"Lord Elion, it seems like your daughter has been blessed to be a warrior in the future."
Elion chuckled, "She troubles me to no end, but perhaps."
After more idle conversation, Lord Erol, Renn, and Dalv-Varran retreated to their prepared chambers, escorted by Drew and his sons.
"Well then, shall we begin?" Fiamma asked, grinning, "Let me present to you, my son-" "Apologies, Lady Fiamma, Lord Elion, may I ask a question?" Celine interrupted, her eyes somewhat bored.
"No need to apologize," said Fiamma, the smile on her lips not quite reaching her eyes.
"What is it, Lady Celine?" Elion asked, already fearing the words she would utter. But truth be told, all of Blood Denegis knew what she was about to ask.
"Who is the man I'm to be married to?" Celine started, "From my understanding, it is neither Lord Valar nor Lord Kael over there."
"You would be correct," replied Elion, "My son, Blanc, who is not present, is the one who is to be married into your family."
"I understand that," Lucien started, "But why isn't he here?"
"Well…" began Elion, when a knock came at the door. "You may enter."
At his order, one of the guards inside opened the door to finally reveal a dirty, wounded Blanc, with ripped clothes on his back.
"I deeply apologize for my late arrival, Lords and Ladies. I wished to prepare a gift fit for the Lady of Blood Maroux," Blanc declared, entering the main hall with a slight limp.