A Quiet Dinner

The door to my chambers clicked shut behind me, and I let out a long sigh, running a hand through my damp hair. My mind was still reeling from the events of the day, and as much as I tried to focus, the memory of Sylphina's bite and her horrified expression afterward lingered stubbornly in my thoughts.

"I hope I didn't frighten her too much," I muttered to myself, glancing at the faint imprint of her teeth on my hand. The corners of my mouth quirked upward in amusement. "Who would have thought she'd actually bite me?"

The sound of my own laughter startled a group of nearby servants. They flinched and scurried away, their faces pale with fear. I shook my head, suppressing a chuckle. They always seemed to assume the worst.

Before I could take another step, Arlen came barreling down the hallway toward me, his boots echoing against the marble floor. By the time he reached me, he was bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Your Majesty," he wheezed, straightening after a moment. "Why did you leave so suddenly earlier?"

I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "I had something important to attend to," I replied, adopting my usual cold demeanor. My attempt at nonchalance faltered, however, when his sharp gaze dropped to my hand.

"Is that…" He pointed at the faint marks. "Is that a bite on your hand, Your Majesty?" His expression shifted from confusion to horror.

"It's nothing," I said quickly, but he was already stepping closer, his face hardening with determination.

"Who did this? Tell me now, and I'll take care of them immediately." His voice was sharp with anger, his loyalty unwavering.

"It was an animal," I said, waving him off with a dismissive gesture.

He didn't believe me I could see it in his eyes but he held his tongue. Instead, he cleared his throat and adjusted his stance. "Very well. But we have unfinished documents to review in your office."

The groan I stifled was entirely internal. I had no desire to spend hours buried in paperwork, but duty was duty. "Fine," I said, my tone clipped. "Let's get it over with."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of signatures, decisions, and Arlen's endless commentary. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was exhausted.

"I'm done for the night," I announced, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Have my dinner sent to my chambers, and make sure it's a larger portion than usual."

Arlen nodded, though his brow furrowed in confusion. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

When I returned to my chambers, the sight before me caught me off guard. Sylphina was curled up on my bed, fast asleep. Her delicate features were softened in repose, her usual tension replaced by an almost childlike vulnerability. She must have been completely exhausted to fall asleep so soundly.

I watched her for a moment, then sighed and headed to the adjoining bathroom. After a quick shower, I slipped into a soft black silk robe and tied it loosely at the waist.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. My eyes narrowed, and I crossed the room quickly, not wanting anyone to see Sylphina on my bed. I opened the door just wide enough to take the dinner cart from the servant, sending her away with a curt nod.

Once the door was securely closed, I let out a breath of relief. I pushed the cart toward the bed, its wheels squeaking softly, and glanced at Sylphina. Despite the noise, she remained fast asleep, her small frame rising and falling with each steady breath.

I called her name softly. "Sylphina."

No response.

Frowning, I moved closer and gently tapped her head. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, wide and startled.

"Ah!" she screamed, and before I could react, she bolted upright. Our foreheads collided with a resounding thud.

Pain shot through my skull, and I reeled back, clutching my head. "Your head is as hard as a rock," I muttered, shaking off the sting.

Sylphina groaned, rubbing her forehead and wincing. Her large eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a fleeting moment, I felt a pang of guilt.

I straightened, clearing my throat. "Dinner is served," I said, gesturing to the cart.

She blinked at me, then at the cart, her expression shifting from confusion to hesitation.

"Your Majesty," she began, her voice tentative, "I can't eat on your bed. It's improper."

I raised an eyebrow, silencing her with a look. "It's an order. You're not allowed to refuse."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she nodded reluctantly. I retrieved a tray from the cart, carefully balancing the dish, and placed it in front of her.

Sylphina stared at the food, then at me, as if unsure whether to eat. "Your Majesty, I—"

"Eat," I interrupted firmly.

She lowered her head, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up a fork. I sat back in the chair beside the bed, watching her in silence.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware. Sylphina ate slowly, her movements cautious, as if afraid I might change my mind at any moment.

When she finally looked up, I met her gaze and said, almost too softly, "I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened in shock, but I didn't elaborate. Instead, I turned away, pretending to be absorbed in adjusting the cart. The weight of her stare lingered, but I refused to meet it.

For tonight, at least, the silence between us spoke louder than any words could.