Lord Meredith didn't survive the next course.
Not literally.
Though he looked like he WANTED to die.
He tried to recover. Tried to change the subject. Tried to salvage his dignity.
Poor, stupid boy.
He doesn't understand.
I'm not DONE with him yet.
"Lady Isabel," he said, his voice strained. "I understand you've been studying with Corvus Blackthorn. He's quite the scholar of... unconventional magic."
Unconventional.
Another polite word for DARK.
Another attempt to insult me while pretending to be CIVIL.
"Corvus is brilliant," I said. "Unlike some people, he understands that power requires SACRIFICE. That true magic isn't about making pretty lights or warming tea."
I paused, looking at Meredith's plate.
"Speaking of warming things, how's your soup? Still adequate?"
Elara actually LAUGHED this time—a bright, genuine laugh that made everyone turn to look at her.
My corrupted princess isn't even HIDING her enjoyment anymore.
She's learning that cruelty can be ENTERTAINING.
"I apologize," Elara said, composing herself. "I just... Lady Isabel has such a unique perspective on magic."
"Unique," Lady Thornwick repeated carefully. "Yes. That's certainly one word for it."
She's trying to defuse the situation.
Trying to protect her guest from further humiliation.
How NOBLE.
How BORING.
"Tell me, Lord Meredith," I continued, ignoring Lady Thornwick's attempt at intervention. "When you practice your fire magic, do you ever burn yourself? Or is it too 'simple and clean' for that?"
"I... occasionally there are minor accidents—"
"Minor accidents," I repeated. "How ADEQUATE."
I set down my wine glass and pulled back my left sleeve, revealing the pale scars from blood magic practice.
"These are from REAL magic," I said. "Magic that requires BLOOD. Magic that requires PAIN. Magic that leaves MARKS."
I looked at Meredith's unmarked hands.
"But I suppose adequate magic doesn't require sacrifice, does it? It just requires... adequacy."
There.
He's BROKEN.
I can see it in his eyes.
He's completely DESTROYED.
Lord Meredith stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
"I... I apologize," he stammered. "I'm not feeling well. Please excuse me."
He practically FLED the dining hall.
PERFECT.
Absolutely PERFECT.
I just made a grown man FLEE from dinner.
Using only WORDS.
Mother was RIGHT.
Words are untraceable weapons.
Silence fell over the table.
Lord General Ashford looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't figure out what.
Lady Thornwick's expression was carefully neutral, but I could see the calculation behind her eyes.
She's reassessing me.
Deciding if I'm dangerous or just RUDE.
Probably both.
Elara was still smiling, her eyes bright with barely contained delight.
She LOVED that.
She loved watching me destroy someone.
My perfect little monster.
And Cedric...
Cedric was still smiling that gentle smile.
But something had changed.
His eyes.
They're DIFFERENT.
Sharper.
More FOCUSED.
Like he's seeing me for the first time.
"Well," he said pleasantly. "That was certainly... memorable."
Memorable.
EXACTLY what I wanted.
"I apologize if I was too harsh," I said, not meaning it at all. "But I have little patience for mediocrity."
"Clearly," Lady Thornwick said dryly.
The rest of dinner continued with significantly less conversation.
Everyone is AFRAID to speak.
Afraid I'll destroy them next.
GOOD.
Let them be afraid.
Let them understand what happens when you try to insult me with POLITE words.
Dessert was served—some elaborate chocolate creation that probably took hours to make.
Thornwick is still trying to impress me.
Even after I destroyed his guest.
Interesting.
"Your gardens are lovely," I said to Cedric, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "All those flowers. All that careful cultivation. It must take tremendous effort to maintain such... beauty."
There.
A compliment.
But also a subtle insult.
Implying his magic is about MAINTENANCE rather than POWER.
Cedric's smile didn't falter.
"Beauty requires effort," he said. "But then, so does power. Wouldn't you agree, Lady Isabel?"
Oh.
He's pushing BACK.
He's not intimidated.
He's ENGAGING.
"Power requires sacrifice," I corrected. "Beauty is just... decoration."
"Is it?" Cedric leaned forward slightly. "Or is beauty its own form of power? The power to attract. To seduce. To make people WANT to be near you."
He's talking about ME.
About my appearance.
About how I use beauty as a WEAPON.
Clever boy.
"Beauty fades," I said. "Power endures."
"Does it?" Cedric's smile widened slightly. "Or does power corrupt? Does it consume? Does it turn beautiful things into NIGHTMARES?"
THERE.
He's talking about the nightmare ravens.
About what I did at the garden party.
He's not afraid.
He's FASCINATED.
"Nightmares are just dreams that tell the truth," I said.
Cedric held my gaze for a long moment.
Then he stood.
"Lady Isabel," he said. "Might I show you something? In the conservatory. I think you'll find it... interesting."
The conservatory.
ALONE.
Away from witnesses.
This is either a trap or...
I stood, smiling.
"I'd be delighted."
Elara started to rise, but Cedric held up a hand.
"If you don't mind, Your Highness, I'd like to speak with Lady Isabel privately. We won't be long."
He wants me ALONE.
This is definitely a trap.
Or something WORSE.
Or something BETTER.
I followed Cedric out of the dining hall, Nyx shifting nervously on my shoulders.
"Isabel," he whispered. "I don't like this."
Neither do I.
But I'm going anyway.
Because I'm CURIOUS.
Because I want to see what the gentle nature mage really wants.
Because I'm addicted to CHAOS.
And this feels like chaos waiting to happen.