Page 50 of Under the Lion Star

“It’s a curtsy, Alda,” Mera scoffed, planting her hands on her hips as she turned to face her sister. “Maybe if you hung out with someone other than wheat stalks, you would know a thing or two about proper decorum.”

Z ran her hand over her face in exasperation. She looked at me with a slight eye roll before holding her hands out to signal she was giving up the fight. She was dressed in a pale pink gown, simple with just a few embellishments around the shoulders. Her hair was fashioned into a braid wrapped around her head like a white crown.

Beautiful.

“I’m Mera,” the sister said, drawing my attention back to her. “Far too young for you to wed. Tough break, that. I’m the best of the Helner lot.”

A scoff came from a younger girl approaching where we stood, and I figured she must be Zara. She ran her green eyes over me, narrowing them, and then turned to leave.

The table had been set, long, and fashioned from dark wood. It was fit for far more people than would be in attendance this evening, yet it still somehow felt intimate. Z stood on the far side from me, looking around for something with which to busy herself.

“Oh, your grace,” an older elf said as she stepped around a corner, her hands holding a plate of cured ham. “We fell a bit behind schedule. My apologies.”

“No apologies necessary,” I held my hand up.

Lord Erik approached from behind me, holding his hands out to the woman to take the meal from her arms. She smoothed her palms over the skirt of her dress and smiled at her husband.

“Well, I’m Melna,” she held her hand out to me and I pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “And you’ve met Erik before, I’m sure. Let’s see…” She trailed off, spinning in a circle. “This one is Zara, the youngest, and that there is Mera.”

“I’ve already presented myself,” Mera said haughtily.

“Of course you did,” Lady Melna sighed. “The twins, Yunia and Lina, are in the kitchen with Nima, and then you know Alda. Of course, you know Alda, that’s why we’re all here.”

“Mom,” Z groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Gods grant me strength.”

Zialda made her way to me, taking my hand in hers and leading me toward the head of the table.

“Sit,” she commanded, and I obeyed.

She plopped into the seat nearest mine with a huff, placing her elbows on the table and resting her forehead on her palms. “Sorry for all this… and everything else that happens tonight.”

“I’m rather enjoying myself,” I grinned.

Z shot me an annoyed look, but it only took a moment for her own smirk to manifest.

The two youngest sisters took the seats furthest from me while Lord Erik sat across from Zialda on my other side. He was really leaning into the intimidating father role. As nervous as I was, I hadn’t been a part of a family dinner in a long time. It’d been ages since my family had shared a meal together, and a dull ache gripped my chest as I thought about what could never be again.

“So,” Erik spoke, looking directly at me. “You think you’re good enough for my daughter?”

“Dad,” Z groaned. “I’m twenty-eight. Not some virginal debutant who can’t choose her own partner.”

Erik’s eyes went wide, as did mine, but we were interrupted as Melna returned to the dining room with Zialda’s three other sisters in tow.

“Good to see you again, Nima,” I nodded at Zialda’s sister, her pink hair easily recognizable.

“Likewise,” she smiled, sitting next to my bride-to-be.

The twins took their places next, a silent conversation passing between the two of them that consisted only of eyebrow movements.

“I’ve already explained the whole thing to everyone,” Zialda set her hand on mine atop the table. “No need for pretenses here.”

“Alda,” her father sighed. “You didn’t even give me a chance to make him sweat.”

“Dad.”

“I was really going to torture you, son,” Erik smiled at me.

“Eat,” Melna commanded the table, and so we did.

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