Page 58 of Severed Heir

A servant stepped ahead to pull open the dining hall doors. Inside, ten black thrones circled a massive wooden slab, its surface supported by stone carved to mimic sleet.

Kamila took the seat at the head, gesturing for Archer to claim the one opposite. I was placed to his left.

Above us, a chandelier flickered with flame, spilling copper light over the table and casting long, jagged shadows across the room. Leaf-shaped goblets shimmered with vivid orange wine, its sweet, spiced scent rising gently into the air.

Kamila raised her glass. “Flame-boiled oranges,” she said. “I brought them back from Ravensla after the Harvest Festival. Makes the best wine.”

“Ravensla does make the best wine,” I said quickly, hoping to find my footing among the power gathered here.

The royal guard from before stepped inside, cheeks flushed from the cold. He tugged off his leather jacket, revealing a feathered marking that ran from his neck to his left shoulder.

“I hope you don’t mind if my guard joins us,” Kamila said.

He dropped into a seat across from me and winked as he scooted closer to the table’s edge.

Archer flicked his gaze toward the three empty seats where a servant was pouring wine. It seemed more would be joining us. “Of course not,” he said.

Kamila’s smile sharpened. “To witness such a grand dinner for Verdonia’s newest Serpent, is an honor.”

Three more entered as servants laid down tray after tray of food: a man in a black suit, a woman draped in gold, and a younger male trailing behind them.

Archer’s posture shifted the moment they stepped inside.

The older man bowed. “Archer Lynch. Remarkable that you’ve already secured an heir to your kingdom.” He turned to me, then motioned toward the others. “I am Hadrian Sinclair. This is my wife, Motava, and our son, Caius.”

Hadrian looked like every ruler I’d ever met. Hollow cheeks, chin tilted in expectation, as if the room owed him reverence just for standing in it. His moss-colored gaze was steady, unreadable. Even his mushroom-brown hair, slicked back with careful precision, made him seem more brute than noble.

His wife, Motava sparkled beside him, with golden-ringed curls and red lips to match the sharp nails tapping her glass.

Their son, with the same light-brown hair and green-brown eyes,took his seat in stiff silence. He stared at the table, like if he focused hard enough, he might disappear. He looked to be in his late twenties, though something about the stillness in him felt older.

Kamila tapped her knife against her glass. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said lightly. “It felt fitting to invite our neighbors from Wrathi—along with his heir.”

Across the table, Hadrian’s gaze hooked into us. “Archer,” he drawled, “I don’t believe we spoke at the last Bid.”

“I was rather occupied,” Archer said coolly.

Hadrian sighed. “Ah, yes. The burdens of legacy. Leaving your kingdom and enduring mentorship is a noble suffering, really. I did my years at the academy.”

Archer pressed a shadow-wrapped finger to the table. “What’s your real purpose, Hadrian? If you came to mend things with Victor, you’re wasting your breath. I severed that bloodline the day I took on shadows.”

Hadrian smiled, all sharp civility. “I came for you, Archer. To offer my congratulations. Securing an heir so quickly is impressive. Not everyone is so fortunate. Miss Blanche can confirm that. Her father’s realm is crumbling. I’ve even welcomed a few of his refugees myself.”

My grip tightened around the goblet. “How generous of you,” I said flatly. Really, I meant it.

Hadrian jabbed a slice of meat with his fork, juice splattering across his cuff like blood. “My sincere condolences to Andri Blanche,” he said, dabbing at the stain with all the care of someone wiping dirt off their boots. “May someone rise to lead them soon.”

Kamila leaned in, her smile too smooth. “And how do you feel, Miss Blanche? Surely this loss weighs on you.”

They wanted to watch me flinch. But I’d learned how to play the Serpent’s game. “North Colindale is no longer my home,” I said evenly. “But my thoughts remain with my father.”

Hadrian clicked his tongue. “Pity. I had hoped to offer assistance to his realm.”

My head snapped up. “Assistance?”

He smiled, and something about it felt disturbingly familiar. “A proposition, really. Now that Severyn is your heir, Archer, I’d like to propose a union, between my son and your heir. Summer and Night, united. With your father’s sunlight growing unstable, you’ll need stronger alliances.”

My goblet slipped, nearly crashing to the floor before Archer’s hand shot out and caught it, steadying it just in time.

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