“You must give my compliments to your cook, lady Eleanor, this steak is simply incredible,” Al said. 

Edmund shot him a dark look. He too had gotten a good enough look to see the red fox head on the assassin’s tunic, and he was clearly unhappy my parents had allowed Al to stay.

Gideon, for his part, was eyeing the gravy that was standing near Edmund. I was pretty sure he wanted to ask if Edmund could hand it to him, but was too afraid to ask the prince. 

“I am happy to hear that, Alabaster. I will be sure to pass it on to her,” Mother replied, her voice betraying no emotion one way or the other. 

It had been 4 days since the evening of the debutante ball. This was the first dinner in the dining hall I was attending since that evening. First dinner here since Myra left, even. For the first day after the debutante ball I had been recovering in Myra’s room. Using as much magic as I did really did a number on me, and I had needed some time to recover. As such I slept through most of that day. After that I was more or less fine, but used exhaustion as an excuse to keep away from visitors for longer. Limit the potential to be found out. Until tonight that is, now that only these three nobles were left in the castle. 

And these three were not leaving any time soon, unfortunately.

“Edmund, can you pass me the gravy?” I asked. 

As he handed it to me I sprinkled a little more over my dinner, just for show. Then I handed it to a very grateful Gideon, who mouthed a ‘thank-you’.

The dinner table was awkwardly silent in a way I was not used to. Mother never said much, at most she questioned us on whether we had been doing what we were supposed to. Me and Myra likewise generally did not talk much at dinner. Many of the things we would want to talk about we generally did not want to talk about in front of our parents. Father on the other hand was normally an avid conversationalist. Or well, they were less conversations and more speeches where you occasionally were supposed to nod. He would talk loudly and boisterously about whatever was on his mind. Sometimes it was about something he did, other times about a person who had annoyed him or just some story from his past. 

Now, however, he was strangely quiet. I had not spoken much with him since the ball. He had come in together with mother just once, soon after I woke up. They had asked me about my side of the story with the assassin. Edmund had already told them most of what happened, but there were still some details they did not know. The main thing I had told them that they had not already known was that the assassin knew all about my powers. Father had not said much even then though, mother had asked most of the questions. He had not complained anymore about the impersonation at least. Presumably, he had talked with mother and she had told him to drop it. 

Right now, father was not looking at me as angry as he had been when he came to get me for the ball. There was, however, still a clear sense of discomfort I could detect whenever I caught him staring at me. Aside from that the silence was uncanny from a man who usually always felt the need to be the centre of attention. 

“How are you feeling today, Bella?” Edmund asked, in a polite and reserved tone. Gone was the more relaxed man that I had talked to in the gardens. Gone was the man clutching a gut wound with terror in his eyes. What remained was the prince. Always courteous and polite. But also distant, and even slightly cold. 

“Much better, thank you,” I responded. I caught my father glaring at me again. I suppose he was not a fan of the new name. 

The prince had recovered quite well. He had been somewhat weak for a day or two. It had been the original reason for why he had stayed behind, but he seemed to be fine now. Which raised the question of why he was still here…. 

The Sumpterlands at the very least had seen in his stay a threat to Mirabelle and Gideon’s betrothal. People generally did not break betrothals, even if they had not yet been made public. If anything could cause someone to break such a betrothal though, a marriage proposal of one from the royal family would be it. As such, they had insisted on leaving Gideon behind. 

I felt sorry for the kid. Gideon was only about my age. He had left his father behind in the south, and now even his mother and much of the household staff had gone back there, leaving him alone in a strange land. I made a mental note to talk to him more later. Make him feel more welcome.

As for why Al had decided to stick around…. I had my ideas, none of them good. But with the betrothal not being public we could not deny one suitor while another of roughly the same status was allowed to stay. Officially speaking, both house Whitbee and the prince were still on good terms with house Eisencrad. The testimony that an assassin had worn a crest was not enough evidence to pursue any course of official action. The only other evidence, namely that the assassin knew who I was, was obviously not something we could publicly use either. As such we were now stuck playing host to the son of the man who had tried to kill the prince. Al, for his part, acted oblivious to any hostility directed towards him. 

“Oh, by the way, Bella,” Al said, “how is your brother doing these days?”

I felt my stomach turn. Ugh, what is he up to now? 

“It is just… he has been sick for quite a while,” Al continued, “Most people are not sick with dragonpox this long, are they? Is your brother doing okay?”

All eyes were on me.

I tried to look at my parents for support about what I should say. Father just glared angrily, as if saying ‘this is your fault.’ Mother’s expression on the other hand was completely unreadable. No help there, then. I had to reply with something.

“Uh, yeah, he is doing much better.” I replied. “He is just, you know, staying in isolation a bit longer to make sure he is no longer infectious.” After the words left my lips I was already wondering if I had made a mistake. Should I have said he was still doing badly? Bought more time? But how much time could I buy?

“Good to hear,” Al smiled, “I look forward to meeting him. Any idea when that would be safe?” 

“Oh, I would not know.” I replied, eager to hand the conversation over to somebody else. “You will have to ask mother that.” 

“Two days,” mother replied curtly. My heart sank and I heard a loud ‘clang’ sound. I looked towards the sound and realised my fork had fallen onto my plate. I had not even noticed I had dropped it. I looked up to find 5 people staring at me. I mumbled an apology, picked the fork back up and did my best to pretend nothing had happened. 

Two days? That is way too soon. I wanted to protest, wanted to ask mother to be reasonable. Obviously I could not do so with present company without revealing a whole host of things I did not want to reveal to them. I tried to keep my face as calm as I could, to just focus on my steak and on not dropping my fork again. In reality, though, I was anything but calm. 

“Good to hear,” Al replied, “I look forward to meeting him then.”

How was this even going to work? Was I going to have to play some ridiculous game of charades? Go in one door and be Bella, go into another and be…. ‘Damien’? 

I mean… they would catch on eventually, right? Realise that the twins were never in the same place at the same time? Why would mother give such a short deadline so casually? Did she have some plan? Know something I did not?

Al was apparently satisfied with the answers he got, and instead started talking politics with father. I honestly was not paying too much attention to it. I just wanted dinner to be over already. I needed to get somewhere private and find out what mother had been thinking.