Banquet: Beginning of the night of silence

Everything in the kitchen was exactly where we had left it—the lamps cast the same dim glow, the candles flickered lazily, and the wooden dining table sat untouched, its surface bearing the same faint scratches. Dishes, chairs, silverware—nothing seemed out of place.

We had memorized every small detail, deliberately committing them to mind. Any shift, no matter how minor, could reveal where the terrorist had gone and what he might have wanted.

But he was a little smarter than us.

I stepped inside the kitchen again, my fingers brushing against the rough sandpaper on the counter. I grabbed it, rubbing it against my palm. The sensation, harsh yet familiar, oddly grounded me.

"What banquet were you talking about?" Johan's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He hesitated before adding, "I mean, who's coming?"

"Just my brother and sister. Don't stress about it. Be polite, be friendly. We might have to bring up the terrorist situation with them too."

I had considered keeping it from them. No point in worrying them for nothing. The police were already setting up a perimeter, evacuating the block. We could have had a small banquet at the church instead…

Johan hummed, then nodded. "Alright. So what's the banquet for?"

His childlike curiosity almost made my mouth twitch in amusement, but I kept my expression still.

"My sister got into Thornfield Academy. We're celebrating."

"Oh. Congratulations…" His voice carried a thoughtful weight to it, as something about the news had struck him.

I let the moment pass and pointed to two small bamboo baskets, one filled with onions, and the other with potatoes. "Don't just stand there—help me with the cooking."

His eyes flicked toward the baskets. A flicker of reluctance. I ignored it.

"Alright…" He reached for the potatoes.

I snatched them up before he could touch them. "You're on onions. Cut them very finely—my sister likes the taste but hates chewing chunks."

Johan's face twisted, but he said nothing.

Two hours passed. The clock in the living room struck six.

I sat comfortably in my chair, turning a page of For Once by Taylor, savoring the words. The knife had moved swiftly in my hands—potatoes diced in half an hour, neat and precise. In the kitchen, Johan stood hunched over the counter, hands shaking, his eyes red and watery. Thinly sliced onions surrounded him like the remnants of a battle. Small cuts marred his fingers.

A knock came at the door.

"Leor, I got the Burvill beer at a good price! It smells amazing—you'll love it!"

James.

I placed the book aside and strode to the main door, fishing the key from its spot on the right cabinet. One turn, one click—the door swung open.

James stood there, grinning, a workbag slung over one shoulder. He was twenty-four but looked older in a good way. His sharp jawline and firm features gave him a mature, almost dignified air. Brown hair, streaked with a few strands of black, fell slightly over his forehead. He was tall—nearly six and a half feet, standing just above the doorframe.

His outfit had the effortless elegance of someone who dressed well without trying. A white linen shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his pale, muscular chest. A black waistcoat, unbuttoned, matched his fitted trousers. Over it all, a long brownish-black wool coat draped down to his knees, its six buttons left open. The coat was loose, but everything else hugged his frame, outlining a build that could almost rival Johan's.

The moment he saw me, his light green eyes brightened. He dropped his bag and reached out, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders and pulling me in.

"Yeah, yeah, let's try it before eating! Did you bring the wine too?" I asked, matching his enthusiasm.

"Of course! It's for Clara—how could I forget what she likes?" He pulled a glass bottle from his bag. The deep red tint of the glass caught the light. Jacob's.

I frowned. "Wait. you bought this? Isn't that, like, four or five gold pounds a bottle?"

James averted his eyes. "I… had some savings."

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."

"Just leave it at that," he muttered.

I smirked. "I don't really care, it's your money. But Clara is probably going to decapitate you."

His expression twisted into something close to horror. "What do we do?" He looked at me like I held the answers to the universe.

I sighed. "I know where the empty wine bottles are. We'll pour it into those and hide this one."

Relief washed over his face. "Oh, my good brother."

I shot him a warning glance, but he lunged forward, pulling me into another hug anyway.

Then I sniffed.

My grip tightened. "Wait. You drank without your good brother?"

The faint scent of alcohol lingered on him—strong, but not overwhelming. The kind that settled in when someone had been drinking while walking. A bad alcoholic habit.

I gave him a flat look.

James hesitated, then laughed nervously. "…Haha."

"What about Clara? Weren't you two coming home together?"

"Yeah, she told me to head back without her. She wanted to buy some mutton and other groceries we might need today. You cooked?"

"Nah, I was waiting for Clara. She likes cooking. I just help out to lighten her workload sometimes. I'm nowhere near as good as her too."

We stepped inside together, in the warm living room. Johan was already there, standing with his back straight, his face unreadable.

"This is a friend from the academy, Johan Von Adlerhof, He's new in the town so I invited him to join us in the banquet…" I said, turning to James.

Huh?

James's face tensed. His eyes narrowed to the limit, and a faint sheen of sweat appeared on his palms.

"Nice to meet you," Johan said calmly, extending his hand for a handshake.

James flinched—like he was dodging a bullet.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Huh? Johan, as he said. I am a noble from the Aurelian Empire…"

James flicked his gaze toward me before locking eyes with Johan, scrutinizing him as if staring through his skull. A long, tense moment passed before he finally stepped forward and shook Johan's hand—his grip tightening, like he was trying to crush it.

Johan's brows twitched slightly, but he held his ground, his expression unmoved.

"James… What's wrong? Are you alright?" I asked hesitantly.

His reaction—it was just like Vane's. Did he see something too? But no matter how I looked at it, Johan seemed normal. No matter how I looked, He spoke, moved, and acted like anyone else…maybe a little weird, but still. I had my doubts before, but something tells me I cantrust him… at least a little bit.

James exhaled sharply. "Nothing's wrong… Let's just move on."

To be continued......….

Author's note: Sorry for the late update, But I got some good news, I LOST MY VIRGINITY! Yeah that's right, and the girl was fucking hot, It was… I mean our imaginations about it are all freaking true, It was so warm and hot and soft, sorry sorry, but yeah you guys should try it too, it's the best thing I've experienced. Wish me luck!

TYATE Extra's: Jacob's is the top luxurious brand in alcohol, The bottle James bought was the cheapest of their brand, and in that amount you could eat good food, meat, vegies, some beers here and there for months on end. Their top wine is called "Igrath's Blood" costing around 12 million golden pounds, Yes 12 million, It would be ridiculous to spend on one bottle of wine, you could buy a big beautiful castle in the centre of Imperial gardens, Igraths blood is only sold once a year on Goddess's birthday, hundred bottles in a auction, you could expect the price to go even higher in bids if someone wants all hundred of them…