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< Chapter 111–A Table Full of Silence
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Chapter 111 – A Table Full of Silence
Nevara
The castle felt settled when we returned.
Not quiet–just… held together. Like the walls themselves had decided to stop bracing for impact.
Warm light spilled from the dining room, laughter threading faintly through the corridor. My mother’s laugh, unmistakable and grounding. Michelle’s voice followed, bright and animated. Relief loosened something tight in my chest.
They were already home.
Dinner was waiting when we arrived–long table set, candles lit, the clink of plates and silverware echoing softly as we took our seats. For the first time all day, I allowed myself to believe Bethany wouldn’t find a way to ruin this too.
No guards bursting in.
No frantic messages.
No delays.
Just food. Family. Breathing room.
Thoren sat beside me, his presence solid and calm, his knee brushing mine beneath the table. He reached
for my hand without looking, thumb pressing lightly into my palm like a quiet reminder that he was here.
That we were through the worst of the waiting.
Conversation drifted easily at first–Michelle recounting the boutique, my mother teasing her about nearly
crying over lace, harmless stories filling the space where tension had lived all day.
Then Thoren spoke.
“So,” he said, casual but watching me closely. “Did you find the perfect dress?”
I smiled, grateful for the normalcy of the question. “I think so. I want to try it on again tomorrow, just to be sure–but yes. I think it’s the one.”
Michelle grinned knowingly. My mother nodded, pleased.
I turned my head toward Thoren then, holding his gaze.
“And the test?” I asked quietly.
The table didn’t fall silent–but it paused.
Thoren exhaled through his nose, slow and measured. “It was almost postponed.”
My fingers tightened around his.
< Chapter 11 E–A Table Full of Silence
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“Jonas was running a pretty high fever this morning,” he continued. “Vomiting, too. Bethany said he was
too sick to leave the room, and when I got there… I watched her take his temperature. I heard him throwing up in the bathroom.”
My stomach twisted. “So she delayed it?”
“I agreed to push it off,” he said, his voice steady but honest. “At the time, it didn’t feel right forcing a blood
draw on a sick child.”
I nodded slowly. “How did she fake that?”
Thoren shook his head. “I don’t know that she did. I genuinely don’t see how she could’ve. The fever was
real. The vomiting was real.”
My mother leaned forward slightly then, her tone gentle but assured. “Children are incredibly resilient,” she
said. “Especially when they’re sick. They can look absolutely miserable one minute, and the moment they
feel even a little better, they’re up and acting like themselves again. It can be startling.”
Michelle nodded in agreement. “It’s honestly wild how fast they bounce back.”
Thoren picked up where my mother left off. “That’s what made me hesitate. But later this afternoon, the guards called. They said they could hear him laughing–running around the hotel room. Playing.”
My jaw tightened.
“So I went back,” Thoren said. “And if a child is well enough to run around and play, he’s well enough to have blood drawn. I wasn’t going to risk telling you it had been postponed.”
My mother offered a small, knowing smile. “And for what it’s worth,” she added, “sometimes medication kicks in and they seem perfectly fine–happy, energetic. But once it wears off, they can crash just as hard. It’s something to remember for the future. When you have your own children.”
My father agreed with her. The words settled gently–but heavily.
Thoren squeezed my hand under the table. “The test was taken today,” he said firmly. “No more delays.”
Relief washed through me in a slow, aching wave–not relief at the outcome, not yet–but relief that the
waiting was finally ending.
Dinner resumed after that, conversation finding its way back to safer ground. But the truth sat with us all
the same–quiet, unavoidable, waiting to be spoken aloud when the time came.
For now, though, we ate.
Together.
I glanced around the table then, something only just now registering.
“Where’s Kael?” I asked. “Why isn’t he having dinner with us?”
Thoren’s mouth curved slightly–not quite a smile, more like amusement carefully contained. “He wanted
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< Chapter 111-4 Table Full of Silence
to check in with his… guest.”
I raised a brow. “You couldn’t tell him to invite him to dinner?”
“I did,” Thoren said easily. “But he’s not ready for that yet.”
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I huffed, leaning back in my chair. “Dang it. I want to meet the man who has apparently swept the head of the guard off his feet.”
Michelle’s eyes lit up immediately. “Oh, same.”
We all looked at her.
She shrugged, unapologetic. “For years, I tried. Subtle hints. Not–so–subtle hints. Entirely unsubtle hints.”
She waved a hand. “It wasn’t until my cousin pointed out that he didn’t think Kael was into women that it finally clicked.”
Thoren blinked. “I’m surprised I had to point that out to you.”
Michelle pointed at him with her fork. “Listen. When a man is that attractive and completely immune to
charm, denial becomes a survival mechanism.”
I laughed despite myself.
“And now that it’s confirmed,” Michelle continued, grinning, “I want to see who this tall, dark, handsome
man is.”
Thoren’s eyes flicked toward me. “How do you know he’s handsome?”
Michelle didn’t miss a beat. “Nevara told me, of course.”
I rolled my eyes. “I said striking. There’s a difference.”
“And,” Michelle added sweetly, “Sabrina confirmed it.”
Thoren groaned softly. “Of course she did.”
Mom smiled over her wine, clearly enjoying this far more than she let on. “I have to admit,” she said, “I’m curious too. Kael just seems so… private.”
“He still is,” Thoren said. “This is new territory for him. I won’t push.”
I nodded, understanding that instinct intimately. “He’ll come around when he’s ready.”
Michelle sighed dramatically. “Fine. But when he does, I’m claiming first introductions.”
“Absolutely not,” I countered. “He’s my future head of guard’s mystery man.”
Thoren lifted his glass slightly. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know he’s already being discussed like a
mythological creature.”
Laughter rippled around the table–easy, genuine. The kind that didn’t feel forced or fragile.
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< Chapter 112 – New Territory
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