The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 37: At Dinner

Chapter 37: At Dinner
Andon stood there, smiling like the idiot he was.
His smile was warm, but always knowing.
And he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.
Jumping out the window was no longer an alternative - he’d know if she dared to consider it.
"I was just about to brush her hair."
Aurora beamed at him and he smiled back. Claire watched the exchange.
"Give us a few minutes."
He wiggled his brows at her.
"As the King’s Cupbearer, you should be at the table before him. No one keeps a King waiting."
Bright colour stained her cheeks.
"Don’t mind me. We both know you’re the only one whose lack of courtesy always counts as charming."
Another dose of colour flooded her cheeks.
She ushered Rory into the room and closed the door. She needed to light candles - the maids usually handled it but watching the flames come to life had a way of soothing her.
Aurora sat at the vanity table while she lit the candles.
"Does the King like you?"
She paused.
"No."
"Good. Because you’re always rude to him."
Claire turned around, holding the burning splinter before her eyes.
"I’m rude for a reason, Aurora."
"I know."
"Stop making me look like a childish girl with a grudge."
Rory cast her eyes down immediately.
Claire hated it when they argued.
"Let’s not talk about him again. Agreed?"
Rory nodded.
Claire brushed her hair out in smooth, long strokes.
When she was done, Aurora left the room for hers.
She moved to the dresser and picked up the green dress she had worn to the trial. Beside it laid a new dress. It was green, but of a much darker shade than what she was used to. The designs at the sleeves and hems were so delicate - she could tell hours had been spent on the single design.
It was beautiful.
And he sent it.
Which was exactly why she wasn’t going to wear it. Even though it was the most beautiful garment she had ever laid her eyes upon.
He must think her cheap, she thought. Trying to buy her affection with clothes.
Claire turned her back to the dress with much difficulty.
She wanted to wear it very much.
Desire and logic warred in her head. But, desire presided.
And she snagged the fabric off the dresser and wore it.
Just as she anticipated, it was a perfect fit.
How did he know?
She felt too fancily dressed for the role of a Cupbearer.
Was he trying to mock her? All the servants would envy her extravagant dressing.
Claire hesitated before she left the room.
Andon still stood there, dressed elegantly in a red velvet brocade and a pressed white shirt.
A low whistle escaped him as he saw her.
The thought of retreating into the room and slamming the door in his face popped up more than once.
Aurora was perched on his other arm, beaming at her.
She was certain that before the night was over, she’d spill drink on herself or on the King - if she wasn’t careful.
Andon’s hand on her elbow was steadying and securing.
"Your back is so stiff. No one’s going to bite." Andon said, attempting to loosen the tension.
And somehow, she relaxed at his words.
She went over her supposed routine - pour wine, wait on him, pour more wine.
What if he asked her to accompany him to his private chambers?
The hall was a small one, probably for the King’s private meals, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. The chandelier above cast shadows of warmth on everything beneath its gaze.
He was standing by the window, staring out.
Yeren didn’t turn around. But he didn’t have to before she knew he had registered his presence - his shoulders tensed slightly.
"Your Grace, your guests have arrived."
He spun around gracefully.
Yeren was wearing a white cotton shirt and grey brocade. His breeches hugged his long limbs sparingly.
But he didn’t seem to stun her as much as she stunned him.
For a brief moment, they stood yards apart, frozen in space as he appreciated her.
"You look like a queen." Of everything she expected him to say, that was not it.
Claire quickly averted her gaze. A queen?
He didn’t look like he said such things lightly.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Andon released her arm and cleared his throat. His movement broke the enchanting spell between them.
Aurora curtsied, remembering her manners.
He nodded at her.
"I trust you are feeling better, dear?" His tone was soft, softer than anything he had used with her.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Shall we?" Andon guided her sister to the table.
It was left the two of them.
He inched closer, close enough to smell the ointments and fragrances she had used in her bath.
"I’m glad you chose to wear it. It looks divine on you." He whispered only to her hearing.
Claire blushed despite herself.
From the corner of her eye, she saw her sister and Andon seated. They were discussing the origin of the table linen as if she and Yeren were not in the room.
"I did. But, I should warn you, Your Grace, if you keep treating me with such expensive finery, I might forget my station as your Cupbearer."
Grinning, he offered her his arm.
She took it without hesitation. Claire could feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. Something within her stirred.
"That’s exactly what I was hoping for."
"For me to forget my station?"
They walked towards the table.
Andon glanced up at them once, but Aurora’s eyes remained fixated on the table linen.
Servants trooped into the room, carrying trays of assorted dishes the four of them couldn’t hope to finish.
The sight of so much food transported her back to the first time she had arrived at Penbrook. Jarren had thrown a banquet to celebrate her arrival. Yeren was doing the same, wasn’t he?
Claire stopped moving, becoming tense.
He immediately noticed the change in her.
"Afraid?"
She listened for a hint of mockery, but found none.
"Don’t distract from your point. You were saying?"
"For you to forget yourself." He leaned in to whisper.