Sitting across from Ellea, Declan followed many of the same gestures she had taken. He sat the sword he was entrusted against the table beside his chair, just like she had, and made notice of his glass of wine that was intended for him. Basil and Armand both sat at the great table's end chairs, and soon enough the four of them were accompanied by the castle caretaker: Maximilian Kovonos, a beautiful raven-haired woman, and upon speaking, she revealed vampire fangs of her own.
?Dinner is served,? she said.
A suckling pig was brought out and brought a vivid liveliness to the table's emptiness. Many dishes were brought out, far more than four people could ever eat. But it was expected of any meal prepared in Belgarde Manor. There were plates of bread with cheese, leg of lamb, potatoes and cabbage, and several dessert dishes, notably a gorgeous dish of ginger pudding that had a magnificent presentation.
?Hmm...? Declan quietly grunted.
He was not going to deny the awkwardness or discomfort at this dinner play he hadn't received so much as a bulletin to. He found the arms of his chair frequently grabbed and himself shifting regularly each time a curious thought remained unanswered here. Questions needing asking and needing it soon, he wondered if it was worth waiting a few moments longer or risk something else horrible and unexpected happening.
Armand and Basil rose from their seats then, prompting his follow of their gaze to the entrance behind his chair where their final dinner guest entered fashionably late: the performer upstairs, Cynthia. She approached the table, dressed wholly different from what Declan had seen her playing in. This was a much more formal and extravagant evening dress. He curiously watched her approach the table.
?Hey, you're ? ? Declan's tongue got caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say.
?Ah, my Beloved...? Armand spoke up after him. He rose to take Cynthia's hand beside him and escort her down into her chair; only then seating himself again.
?The fighting is over, now and forever. Let us commemorate this occasion with this fine feast. Castle Belgarde is and was always meant to be a sanctuary. It is welcome to those of you who would stay here... however long you would stay. An invitation I extend to you, my friend.? Armand held up his glass of wine to Declan. ?Welcome, to Castle Belgarde.?
Maximilian, the castle caretaker and preparer of tonight's feast, only ventured to the side of Cynthia Belgarde, adorning a plate far too fine to eat upon with the various things on the table that she pointed out for her. Interesting as her automatic and emotionless eating was ? as though this was done on average more than once daily ? it was not as interesting perhaps as this fact: she was the only one eating.
Armand had the best seat at the table, a somewhat contradictory statement when his brother Basil's seat was identical and just on another end, but their guests sat closer to his end and within earshot. He sat seated almost boosted in his chair that was blanketed by the thick cloak he wore, sprawled-out comfortably to the side of his chair he leaned. A thought weighed on his mind, a step ahead of the obvious one that he read on Declan's face. His fingers slowly entertained his lower lip in case he decided not to speak up on what he saw, but his hand did lower and he decided against the silence.
?Go ahead, Declan... You are curious about something, are you not?? Armand asked, uniting their gazes to one another. He awaited his response, whether he gave it to him with or without speaking. Seeing that he had not yet put it together, he snapped his fingers and summoned Maximilian to his side.
?Maximilian, prepare a plate for Declan, please. He must sample the suckling pig.? His fingers slowly curled again about his mouth as he resumed watching Declan, unblinking and totally focused.
The unused plates stacked at the table were accessed by Maximilian when she reached the center of it. Ellea watched her make the journey with a particular interest showing in her grin that her deep wine glass hid only so well. A cut of meat was given to one of the plates and she soon set about bringing it around to Declan's side. When it was laid before him, he could only stare at Armand and Ellea.
?We know what you are... It's time you know,? Armand told him.
?Go on,? Ellea quietly said, supporting him as if, without this, he might still suspect her of some measure of foul play.
No more. He decided to risk it and reach for his plate and pinch off a piece of the meat. Like a pill he knew would be bitter, he paused with it before his lips, but he did place it in his mouth. The result was instant within him, but he hid it on the outside very calmly. He felt the need to prove to himself that he was who always knew he was, and he liked to eat. He forced himself to chew onto that which everything within him told him not to, save for a memory of his now outdated self-image. He frowned, removing the bite and placing it back on the plate.
Basil had been watching him, his pointed fingertips silently tapping on the table's edge with great interest. He grinned more as Declan's eyes foretold his doubt and then his lost look that mingled with a defensive anger. He understood that whoever would speak to Declan now had best do so very carefully.
?It is a very human craving to eat,? He began, sounding very much like an observer. ?I sometimes wish I had a taste for the things that can be nurtured and harvested on this planet. But being dependent on it is something I am glad I am not.? Basil sat back in his chair comfortably. He held onto his glass of wine, but he would rather swirl it in his wrist than do anything else with it.
?It is not the first thing you've learned about yourself tonight, is it, Declan?? Armand asked softly. ?It is really quite simple. Anything mortal... is dying. From their fingertips to their limited number of heartbeats... nothing will change man's fate. Only sustenance can delay death's touch, but it is seconds only in our time... in your time.? He stared critically at him before drifting his eyes calmly back to Cynthia.
?Cynthia is still a mortal woman, but that will change when she is ready to join the night.? He reached for her briefly with his ghastly pale hand of long nails before laying it on the table there.
?It makes having Maximilian's cooking skills very useful in the meantime, which I think makes her happy. It is only a small pity that she does not emote her opinion of the foods as well as the good chef might like in order to improve those skills.?
?For that, I am sorry,? Cynthia quietly apologized.
?It is fine, Beloved.? Armand squeezed a telling adoration into her hand while she resumed eating, rather void and livid.
?Declan,? Ellea spoke up, quite teasingly. ?Did you enjoy the events tonight??
He looked up and across the table at her with time enough to rap his fingertips on the smooth tablecloth. He looked to Basil, who was watching the wine in his glass swirl, he looked to Cynthia who acted detached from the situation and he looked to Armand who was rolling his thumb over her hand while curiously awaiting his answer.
?I think I've put together what it is you were trying to do: stabbing me through the heart to let me gauge my longevity, bringing me here to show me the vast reaches beyond the only home I've ever known, and fashioning a murderous string of events together which led to this dinner I just learned I can't eat. My own reasons aside, I can't be the only one who is not in a mood to ?enjoy? anything right now, what, with the death of your father and all.? Declan tested the waters with the Belgardes, not wanting to speak genuine concern over Armand or Basil's coping with their father's death until he was sure this dinner was not a continuation of Ellea's design.
Armand quietly evaluated, sparing a glance to Ellea who looked very calm. ?We knew what our father was doing, as he did. To understand his death, you must understand this: for him, his immortality was a curse. He foresaw a lasting peace with the humans here in his death, and he proudly gave it, and my brother and I are proud of him, but more than that, he can truly rest now. It is fine if you do not understand right away. Nevertheless, you have mine and my brother's thanks for assisting in the defense of this castle.? He stared at him so as to make sure the gesture's authenticity could be read.
?My father's age came as a great shock to my brother and me when he inevitably disclosed it. Needless to say, he has existed far beyond what he rightfully should have, so there is nothing for us to grieve. We have his name and his memories still, and the castle itself has far more of him, so I would not even call his passing absolute,? Basil admitted.
Declan continued down the path of the listener. The brothers' explanation had only paved the way to more confusion but at least seemed to answer that their affection for their father was veritable. With some of the night's questions answered, this brought him back into his mind where the larger questions still awaited answering, and they all centered around the blonde woman red of eyes beside of him. By the time he'd become conscious of his pondering, Ellea had already read it on his face and taken the initiative.
?If you are done with dinner, Declan,? a grin, ?I will show you to your room. You must want some privacy.? Despite not eating a bite of food or sipping even a drop of wine, Ellea politely wiped her mouth with a napkin so positively white it could have been a holy man's cloth, and took her time laying it down perfectly.
Declan stood and dropped his own napkin on the table because it had wound up in his lap when Maximilian had served him. He laid his hands down on the edge of the table for just a moment.
?If you'll all excuse me, then.? He utterly plainly, noting the others were even more aware of his sarcastic table manners than even he was, but that was fine. He felt he was allowed to be a little cross after what he had been through tonight, and began to leave the dining room with Ellea rounding the table to join him.
?Thank you for all of this trouble you went to, Max.? Ellea gave her unnecessary thanks to the cook, excusing herself, and cutely running to catch up to Declan with the sword he'd left behind. ?Hey. You're not supposed to leave this behind,? she cutely warned, and he did uninterestedly accept it, still walking.
?I didn't mind, Lady Ellea.? Max bowed her head quickly to her before bouncy blonde's quick pace took her out of the dining room.
After they'd gone, a long pause was shared by Max and the others. Armand ultimately sighed, smiling pleasantly.
?Is there something amusing that I missed?? Basil asked, gripping his masculine hand around the carven beast's head at the end of his armrest.
?I would try and find a way to help yourself remember our new tenants as they are now. I have an intuition it will be a fond memory in the future,? Armand replied.
Basil seemed analytical towards that. He smirked and returned to his brooding slouch; the priceless cape he wore, elegant and meticulously tailored, wrinkled to the abusive and careless negligence. He steered his eyes towards the woman he wouldn't have guessed would speak so soon. Armand and Max even looked her way.
Cynthia was staring at the empty hall connected to the dining room when she spoke. ?His heart is in turmoil because he does not know what life awaits him now. Everything is unknown. But what little is known, is that there is no turning back.?