The Creation Of The Love Triangle

Athena

We returned to the manor when summoned—tired, silent, and still bearing the tension of the morning's blood sport in our bones. Our quarters felt colder than usual, and the scent of fear—muted but persistent—clung to the halls like mildew.

Just before noon, a servant arrived.

"Lord Genrik requests your presence for lunch," he said, bowing low. "In the main dining hall."

I caught Lucas's eye.

Another show for us most likely.

"Of course," Lucas replied, his voice smooth but wary.

We dressed quickly, keeping our blades close and hidden. Whatever game Genrik was playing, we weren't stepping into it blindly.

The dining hall was drenched in sun. Tall arched windows let in golden light, illuminating the polished floors and long table already set for a feast. Roasted meats, golden potatoes, and trays of fruit and cheese filled the center. It felt opulent. Almost too deliberate.