Page 92 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

“Then teach us what matters instead of obsessing over forks!” Lara’s outburst sends ripples through her wine glass. “Teach us how to survive.”

“This is survival.” Uanna’s voice could freeze flame. “Every detail, every gesture, every breath you take? It. Must. Be. Perfect. The court will be looking for any excuse to destroy you—to destroy all of us.”

I watch Lara absorb this, see the slight shift in her posture as understanding dawns. She may hate the lessons, but she knows Uanna is right.

“Now.” Uanna straightens her already perfect spine. “The next course is about to be served. Show me how you would accept it.”

Servants glide in with bowls of chilled soup, the surface decorated with intricate frost patterns. I observe as Lara and Izzy attempt to mimic Uanna’s precise movements—the exact angle of wrist, the proper grip on the spoon, the careful way she breaks the delicate ice design before taking each sip.

“Better,” Uanna allows, though her tone suggests ‘better’ is nowhere near good enough. “Though you’re still holding your spoons like peasants.”

Vazor snorts softly. “Theyarepeasants, by Ice Court standards. No amount of polish will change that.”

“Then we must make them appear to be very well-disguised peasants.” Uanna’s smile shows too many teeth. “Unless you’d prefer to explain to Prince Jonyk why we’re presenting them at court?”

The firelord inclines his head, conceding the point. His daughters remain focused on their own bowls, though I notice Rhaela demonstrating the proper spoon grip to Izzy when she thinks no one is watching.

Course after course arrives, each accompanied by Uanna’s sharp corrections and increasingly frustrated sighs.

“Shoulders back,” Uanna snaps at Lara. “You’re not hunching over a kitchen pot anymore.”

Anger flashes through Lara’s eyes before her walls slam back into place.

“Perhaps that’s enough for tonight,” I suggest, my voice carrying enough frost to make even Uanna pause.

She turns those pale eyes on me. “Would you rather I coddle them now and watch them die at court?”

“I would rather they survive your instruction long enough to reach court.”

Tension crackles between us. For a moment, I see the echo of what we once were to each other—two ambitious nobles playing at love.

“My lord.” Vazor’s voice breaks through the moment. “If I might suggest—perhaps some practical demonstration would be more effective than constant correction?”

Uanna’s lips press into a thin line, but she nods sharply.

“Very well.” Vazor turns to the twins. “Show them how it’s done.”

Harai and Rhaela straighten, their movements suddenly becoming even more precise and elegant. Every gesture is a study in court perfection—the exact tilt of head, the proper wayto signal for more wine, the careful dabbing of lips between bites.

I watch Lara watching them, see how she catalogs each movement, each subtle grace note. She may resist Uanna’s harsh instruction, but she’s far from stupid. She knows her life will be at stake.

The remainder of the dinner passes in a haze of demonstrations and attempts at replication. By the time the final course arrives, even Uanna seems drained by the constant tension.

“Enough,” she finally declares, setting down her napkin with precise movements. “We’ll continue tomorrow. I expect better results.”

CHAPTER 24

IVRAEL

The next day’s lessons don’t go much any better—but at least they don’t go worse.

“Before we retire for the evening,” I say after another unpleasant dinner, “I have something to show you all.”

As I push my chair back and lead the group outside, though, I find myself wondering if it’s foolish to take them to the maze when we’re all so very tired.

Not that we have any time to rest.

I lead our small group to the ice maze glowing in the moonlight. My magic hums beneath my skin, responding to Syella’s creation.

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