The dining hall was lavish, as always. A long banquet table stretched between them, adorned with silver candelabras and the finest tableware, the light from the chandeliers casting a golden glow over the assembled guests.
Beatrice had been in enough formal meals to know how this would go. The De Silvas would smile, speak in measured tones, and lace every word with something sharper beneath the surface.
And she was right.
Lady De Silva had been on the attack from the moment the first course was served.
"It's quite surprising, truly," the noblewoman said, swirling the wine in her glass. "For someone who was never particularly interested in politics before, you seem to have become quite… involved in court matters as of late, Lady Beatrice."
Beatrice lifted her own glass, taking a delicate sip before responding.
