The Long Table

...Seraphina woke to the sensation of being watched....

...It wasn't the terrifying, judgmental gaze of the Church elders she was used to. It was heavy, intense, and strangely warm....

...She fluttered her eyes open. The heavy velvet curtains had been drawn back slightly, letting a sliver of grey morning light slice across the bed. Valerius was propped up on one elbow, looming over her. His hair was messy, sticking up in tufts, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the hollow of his throat....

...He wasn't looking at her face. He was staring at her hand, which was currently tangled in his shirt, resting directly over his heart....

..."You hold on tight," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "Like a drowning woman."...

...Seraphina didn't pull away. She smiled, stretching like a cat. "And you, Your Grace, are still in bed. The sun is up. In the stories, the Iron Duke rises before the roosters to sharpen his blades."...

...Valerius looked away, a faint flush darkening his cheekbones. "I... overslept."...

...He said it like a confession of a crime. "For the first time in years. The nightmares did not come." He looked back at her, his red eyes searching hers with a mixture of suspicion and awe. "What magic did you use?"...

..."No magic," Seraphina said, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of black hair from his forehead. He flinched but didn't pull back. "Just body heat. You were cold, Valerius. You’ve been cold for a long time."...

...He caught her wrist before she could touch him again. His grip was firm. "Don't get used to this, Seraphina. I am a dangerous man to be comfortable with."...

..."I like danger," she countered softly....

...He stared at her for a heartbeat longer, the air crackling between them, before abruptly rolling out of bed. He stood up, tall and broad, instantly putting his walls back up. "Get dressed. Breakfast is served at eight sharp. And in this house, we do not tolerate tardiness."...

...The dining hall of Blackwood Keep was a cavernous room that felt more like a mausoleum than a place to eat. The stone walls were bare, and the only light came from high, narrow windows....

...In the center of the room stood a dining table long enough to seat thirty men....

...Valerius sat at the very head of the table, reading a stack of military reports while he drank black coffee. He looked every inch the intimidating lord—cold, distant, and absorbed in his work....

...Seraphina entered, wearing a dress of deep blue velvet that matched the ducal colors. The servants, lining the walls like statues, watched her with critical eyes....

...Silas, the steward, stepped forward. He pulled out a chair at the very opposite end of the table—thirty feet away from Valerius....

..."Your seat, My Lady," Silas intoned....

...Seraphina looked at the chair. Then she looked at Valerius, who was a distant figure at the other end. In her past life, she had sat there. They had eaten in silence, shouting to be heard, eventually giving up on conversation altogether. That distance had killed them....

..."No," Seraphina said....

...The room went silent. Valerius lowered his report....

..."My Lady?" Silas adjusted his monocle. "This is the custom. The Lord at the head, the Lady at the foot."...

..."It is a stupid custom," Seraphina said brightly....

...She walked past the chair, her heels clicking on the stone floor. She marched all the way down the length of the table, past the shocked servants, until she reached the head....

...Valerius watched her approach, his eyebrow arching....

...Seraphina grabbed the heavy oak chair to his immediate right. It was heavy, meant for a knight, but she dragged it across the stone floor with a loud, jarring screech that made everyone wince....

...She positioned it directly next to Valerius, so close that the armrests touched. She sat down, smoothed her skirts, and smiled at the stunned steward....

..."I will sit here. Please move my place setting, Silas."...

...Silas looked to the Duke for help. "Your Grace, surely this is... irregular."...

...Valerius looked at Seraphina. She was beaming at him, unbothered by the breach of protocol. He looked at the empty expanse of the table where she was supposed to be, and then at her knee, which was inches from his own....

...A ghost of a smirk touched his lips....

..."Do as she says, Silas," Valerius commanded, returning to his papers. "My wife has poor hearing. She needs to be close."...

...Seraphina stifled a laugh. Her hearing was perfect....

...As the servants scrambled to move the silverware, Silas cleared his throat. He held a ledger in his hands....

..."If I may, Your Grace," Silas said, his tone turning frosty. "We must discuss the household budget. With the arrival of... a new mistress... expenses will naturally rise. Dresses, perfumes, parties... the coffers are currently strained by the war effort on the Northern border. I fear we cannot support a life of vanity."...

...It was a subtle jab. He was calling her a gold-digger. A burden....

...Valerius frowned, opening his mouth to defend her, but Seraphina beat him to it....

..."Silas," she said, cutting into a sausage with surgical precision. "Bring me the ledger."...

...Silas blinked. "My Lady, these are complex figures. Mathematics is hardly a skill for—"...

..."Bring. It. Here."...

...Reluctantly, Silas handed over the book. Seraphina flipped through it. In her first life, to distract herself from her loneliness, she had managed the accounts of the charity ward. She knew numbers....

..."Here," she pointed a fork at a column. "You are paying thirty gold coins for imported wine from the South. But the Southern trade route is currently blocked by the rebellion, which means you are buying from smugglers at a markup. Switch to the Western vineyards immediately. You’ll save twenty percent."...

...She flipped the page....

..."And here. The stable costs. You’re ordering grain for fifty horses, but the Duke only keeps twenty active mounts here. The rest are at the border. Someone in the stables is selling the excess grain and pocketing the profit."...

...She slammed the book shut and looked up at the steward. Her blue eyes were icy....

..."I do not need perfumes or parties, Silas. I need a household that doesn't bleed money due to incompetence. Fix it by noon, or I will find a steward who can."...

...Silence descended on the room. Absolute, terrified silence....

...Valerius was staring at her. The report in his hand had been forgotten. He looked at her not with lust, but with something far more dangerous: respect....

..."You heard the Duchess," Valerius said, his voice ringing with finality. "Fix it."...

...Silas bowed low, sweat beading on his forehead. "At once, Your Grace. My apologies, Your Grace."...

...As the servants hurried away to do their jobs with newfound urgency, Valerius leaned over to Seraphina. His shoulder brushed hers....

..."You are full of surprises," he murmured, his voice low so only she could hear. "Where did a country girl learn to spot a smuggler's markup?"...

..."A woman has to have hobbies when her husband is away at war," she quipped, taking a sip of tea....

..."You were never married before," he pointed out....

..."I read a lot."...

...Valerius huffed, a sound that was almost a laugh. He reached out and, for the second time that morning, did something impulsive. He took a piece of toast from his own plate, buttered it, and placed it on hers....

..."Eat," he said gruffly. "You are too thin. If you are going to terrorize my steward, you need your strength."...

...Seraphina smiled, biting into the toast. It tasted like victory....

...But the peace was short-lived....

...The heavy doors of the dining hall creaked open. A messenger, dressed in the white and gold robes of the Church, stepped in. He did not bow....

..."A letter," the messenger announced, his voice echoing in the stone room. "From His Holiness, the High Priest. For the Lady Seraphina."...

...The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Valerius stopped eating. His hand instinctively went to the dagger at his belt....

...Seraphina swallowed the toast, the taste turning to ash in her mouth....

...It had begun....

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