Chapter 183: 183 the mood
183
~Kael’s POV
I yawned loudly, stretching my arms as I leaned back in the chair. The wine was warm in my stomach, the firelight flickered across the hall, and the laughter of women around Uncle Fridolf was still echoing. But my patience had run dry.
I turned to my Damon. "This has gone on long enough. Either we round up this whole thing, or we leave Uncle to enjoy his night alone. I’m done sitting here pretending."
Rowan raised a brow at me, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "Already tired, Kael? You’re usually the one keeping everyone awake until dawn."
"I’m not tired," I muttered, though the yawn betrayed me again. "I’m bored. And I don’t like sitting here, watching him. Something about this feels off. I’ve said it already."
Damon gave me one of his warning looks, the kind that told me he didn’t want another argument. "We’ll round up the party then. He’s back, and he deserves his time. But you’re right, we should call an end before half the women here faint from his energy."
Rowan chuckled, shaking his head. "The man hasn’t changed. Gone for years and still the first to steal every woman’s eye."
I ignored Rowan’s attempt at humor, leaning forward instead, my voice low. "Before we end this... Damon, I need to ask you something."
Damon looked at me sharply. "What is it?"
I hesitated for only a breath before speaking. "Lisa’s child. How is the child?"
Rowan froze mid-smirk, and Damon’s eyes narrowed.
I continued, careful with my words. "I mean the child, Damon. Not the mother. You know where I stand with her." I looked away, my jaw tightening. "But the baby... the baby is ours. And I want to know."
Damon’s face softened, though he kept his tone steady. "Lisa and the baby are fine. She’s been resting. The doctor says both are healthy. You don’t need to worry, Kael. If you want, you can check on them yourself. Nothing stops you."
I nodded once, relief settling in my chest though I didn’t show it. "Good. That’s all I needed to know."
Rowan snorted suddenly, his laugh sharp and bitter. "Of course. We only want the child, not the mother. Let’s not pretend otherwise. She’s a burden, Kael. A distraction. We already have our Luna—Belinda. Lisa will never be more than a vessel."
His words cut deep, though I didn’t let it show. My lips twitched into a smirk to cover the storm inside me. "I’m glad we agree on something, Rowan. But don’t forget—the vessel is carrying blood that belongs to us. So, like it or not, she matters until the child is in our hands."
Damon’s jaw tightened. He looked at Rowan, then at me, and for a moment.
Rowan scoffed again, leaning back in his chair. "She matters only because of the baby. Nothing else."
I leaned forward, my voice dropping, almost a growl. "As long as the baby lives, Lisa lives. Don’t forget that."
The hall grew quieter around us, the laughter of Uncle Fridolf and the women now just background noise. It felt like the air itself was holding its breath as the three of us stared at one another.
Damon finally broke the silence. "Enough. We’ll talk about Lisa and the child another time. Tonight, we finish this party, send Uncle to his chambers, and get some rest."
I turned my head sharply and yelled across the hall, my voice rising above the music.
"Uncle Fridolf!"
He spun around, a woman still clinging to his arm, her laughter bubbling like a stream. His cheeks were flushed red from too much wine, his eyes glossy but still carrying that sharp glint I remembered from years ago. His grin stretched wide, careless and unbothered, as though time itself had never stolen him from us.
"Yes, my boy?" His voice boomed across the hall, rich and heavy, demanding everyone’s ears. "Speak up, speak up! Don’t whisper across the hall!"
I raised my cup, forcing my lips into a smile that I shaped to look warm, teasing. Inside, though, I studied every twitch of his face. "You’ve had the whole hall at your feet tonight, Uncle," I said, my tone light. "Perhaps it’s time to round up the party, or..." My eyes flicked toward the cluster of women pressing into him, their hands bold, their giggles filling the air. I lifted my cup higher, tilting it in their direction. "Take them all to your chamber and have them to yourself. You’ve earned it."
The words were smooth, playful, sweet on the tongue, but the weight beneath them was mine alone.
The hall burst into laughter. The women clung tighter to him, cheeks pink from both the wine and the thought of being chosen by him.
Fridolf threw back his head, roaring with laughter so loud it made the torches tremble in their holders. The sound rolled through the room like thunder. "Ah, Kael, you wicked boy!" he shouted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Always so sharp! You think I don’t know what to do with myself? Hah! Wine and women, what else does a man need?"
He waved his hand lazily, dismissing my words as though they were feathers drifting in the wind. "Go, go, enjoy your night. Your uncle knows how to live."
And with that, he turned back to the women, pulling one against him.
Rowan laughed easily, shaking his head as if I were a child worrying over shadows. "You see, Kael? He’s fine. Let him be. He’s enjoying himself."
Damon reached for his cup, tilting it back until the last drop was gone. He slammed it down against the table with a dull thud, his lips curling into a small smirk. "Exactly. He’s not harming anyone. Don’t sour the mood with your suspicions."
Their words cut sharper than they realized. I kept the smile on my face, kept my shoulders relaxed, but inside I felt the cold creeping deeper, settling like frost beneath my ribs. They couldn’t see what I saw. Or maybe they refused to.
"Very well," I said softly, my tone smooth, almost agreeable. I inclined my head toward both of them, eyes lowered just enough to hide the sharpness there. "Let him dance, let him drink. I won’t stop him."
"But if either of you need me..." I paused, making sure my voice carried enough for them to hear, "I’ll be in Belinda’s chamber."
With one last glance at my uncle, who was now too drunk to notice anything but the wine spilling down his chin and the women tugging at his sleeves, I turned on my heel and left the hall.
The sound of drums and laughter followed me into the corridor, fading behind me with every step.