Page 45 of Obsidian Throne

The first flavor that spread across my tongue was of the warm, delicious potatoes, followed by the sweet and savory taste of the carrots. But then… there was nothing but jellied meat.

Perhaps holding my breath had helped, because there was only the faintest memory of beef-flavor that lingered in the fat, but overall, it was as atrocious as I had imagined.

And cutting back on my sense of smell did nothing for the texture.

Cold and slippery, like the lard we used for baking and cooking back home, only firmer and more…jiggly.

My corset was already too tight, my stomach unsettled from my moontime cramps, and this…this was going to do me in.

Again, I felt the weight of stares around the table, and Evander’s subtle pressure on my leg.

Was I turning green?

Was my gag audible this time?

I swallowed back the bite, chasing it down with a good bit of wine. Then I looked with renewed horror at the entire ring still left on my plate, save the one tiny bite I had taken.

It quivered like it was alive and taunting me.

Still, I knew I had no choice but to keep going, and I would…at least try several more bites before hiding the rest in my napkin.

I steadfastly continued the same sandwiching method until my potatoes and carrots were gone, but there was still half of the ring left. My eyes watered from the effort of not forcibly reuniting the first half of the wreath with what was left on my plate.

Fortunately, Evander took his very last bite of meat at that exact moment.

Waiting until Aleksander and Ava were focused on one another, he discreetly exchanged our plates. His had no more than a few carrots left on it, and a sigh of relief escaped me.

I nudged his leg beneath the table in thanks.

“You did well,” he said under his breath.

It occurred to me that he was lying, but a quick glance around the room seemed to back up his praise.

No one was looking in my direction with any more malice than usual. In fact, when they spotted my empty plate, they almost seemed impressed. Apparently, it was expected for the Lochlannian princess to be too spoiled to finish her food.

Which made me feel somewhat ashamed of myself, as it had proven to be true. But not ashamed enough to make me wish I had eaten any more.

As it was, only polishing off a second glass of wine allowed my stomach to settle into something resembling calm.

I was beyond grateful when we were finally excused from dinner. At least, until Aleksander requested that Evander stay behind.

Not wanting to infuriate the duke by hesitating, I only nodded, heading toward the hallway. Kirill was at my side in seconds from wherever he had been in the dining hall.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one. I had no sooner emerged in the hallway than Ava’s spider-like hand sank into my arm.

“I’d like a word with my new...daughter-in-law,” she said, not looking away from my face.

“Lord Stenvall has ordered me to stay with Lady Stenvall,” Kirill said respectfully, though a rare undercurrent of disdain dripped from his voice.

She looked sharply at him. “And the duke has ordered me to have a private word with her.”

It was a lie, but not one he could reasonably call her on.

“Of course,” I said quickly, before he could get himself into trouble.

“I’ll just be down the hall, then,” he told me, turning to go.

Ava glared at me, hatred twisting the aging lines of her face. “If you think you can manipulate my husband into--”