A Journey Unwanted

Chapter 468 457: Talk

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

[Glinda's Castle]

"Beyond here lies the dining area," the attendant guiding them proclaimed, her voice calm as she gestured toward a large white door adorned with golden engravings. She turned slightly toward Grimm and Puck, hands folded neatly before her once more.

"Well, I guess we shouldn't keep the Good Witch waiting any longer than we already have," Puck mused, tilting her head as she hovered beside Grimm. There was still curiosity in her tone, mixed with anticipation perhaps as her eyes lingered on the door, seems she was still curious about what the Good Witch wanted to talk about.

The attendant stepped forward and pushed it open, revealing the large expansive space beyond, Puck leaned slightly ahead as though trying to catch a glimpse before fully entering.

Grimm did not hesitate. He stepped forward at a steady pace as he crossed the threshold. Puck followed just behind him, hovering close, the door closing quietly behind them with a soft click that seemed to seal the room off from the rest of the castle.

Grimm did not spare much more than a passing glance at the space itself. His gaze moved once across the room, merely taking note of what mattered. The attendants lined along the sides. The long, empty table stretching across the center. The symmetry of it all. And, most importantly, its only occupants.

"Hello!" a familiar cheery voice greeted, warm as it filled the space.

Their gazes shifted toward the far end of the table where Glinda sat, radiant as ever. At her side sat the Mortifer, posture straight, expression as distant as before. And near her, standing rather than seated, was the Cowardly Lion, his large frame tense, making him seem smaller than he was, his unease almost palpable.

"There's no food on the table…" Puck murmured under her breath, her excitement dimming just a little as her eyes scanned the empty surface again, as if hoping she had simply missed something the first time. There was disappointment in her tone, though she did not dwell on it for long.

Grimm ignored the comment entirely. He moved forward without pause, his attention briefly catching those cold blue eyes of the Mortifer. They were sharp and fixed on him, neither subtle nor welcoming. It was clear enough that whatever impression he had left on her the previous day had not softened.

It did not matter to him.

He did not care enough to question it, nor to engage with it.

Reaching the table, Grimm stopped a few paces away before pulling out a chair near Glinda's side. He took a seat without waiting for permission, the sound of alloy shifting accompanying the movement as his armor settled. Puck paused mid-air, blinking at him before sending a look his way.

"Uh, manners," she whispered, lowering herself slightly as if trying to make the correction less obvious, though her tone carried a mix of mild embarrassment and disbelief.

"It's quite fine," Glinda waved off easily, her smile never faltering as she regarded them both. "Truly, I find it much more pleasant when things move along at their own pace rather than getting caught up in unnecessary formalities."

Puck hesitated for a moment before shrugging lightly. "Well, if you say so," she muttered, though her eyes lingered on Grimm for a second longer as if silently noting his complete lack of concern.

"I'm honestly a little surprised to see you're actually here," Puck added after a moment, turning her attention toward the Cowardly Lion. "I thought you might just stay in your room and avoid, well, all of this."

"T-the Good Witch wanted to talk, so I… I thought it would be better if I came," the lion replied, his voice uneven as he spoke. His gaze turned between them briefly before dropping again, as though the act of meeting their eyes was something he had to consciously push himself to do. There was more behind his unease than simple shyness—it was in the stiffness of his posture and in how his claws flexed slightly against the floor.

Puck studied him for a moment, her expression shifting as something clicked into place.

("Ah, I get it.") Her gaze moved between Glinda and the Cowardly Lion, thoughtful for a moment. ("He attacked that porcelain city not that long ago, and I remember sensing the Good Witch having placed a spell over it to protect it from the weather. If she cared enough to do that, then yeah, she'd probably take something like that personally.")

She let the thought settle, her eyes narrowing just slightly in realization.

("So she called him here to talk. Maybe to make him understand what he did. Or at least make sure it doesn't happen again.")

Puck exhaled softly.

("Yeah, that sounds about right.")

With that, she turned her attention back to Glinda, letting the thought drift away. Whatever had happened between them, it didn't seem like it had gone too far—at least not if the lion was still standing here.

"With that, everyone is here," Glinda said gently, her gaze shifting briefly toward Snow. "Though it is a pity your Legatus could not join us."

"I apologize," Snow replied evenly, though her tone lacked any real warmth. "I had to send him back for urgent business." It was brief, but her eyes flicked toward Grimm for just a moment before returning to Glinda.

"Well, it can't be helped, I suppose," Glinda said with a soft sigh, though her smile remained as composed as ever. "Even my dear Alexandria couldn't make it today, which is unfortunate, but I believe this will suffice."

She raised a hand then, her fingers poised delicately in the air before she snapped them.

For a moment, nothing happened.

The table remained empty, then, without warning, a dim burst of golden light ignited across the surface of the table.

It spread quickly, rolling outward in a wave, flowing from one end to the other. It wasn't blinding, nor overwhelming. Just enough to draw the eye, and when it faded, the emptiness was gone.

Plates and dishes now covered the table from end to end, arranged neatly but in such quantity that it almost felt excessive. There were warm loaves of bread, still giving off steam, alongside small dishes of butter and preserves. Platters of cured meats and cheeses sat between bowls of fresh fruit, their colors vigorous. Eggs prepared in different ways, roasted vegetables, and thick slices of toast filled the gaps, leaving little empty space behind.

Near them, a neatly arranged antique tea set rested untouched. The porcelain was pale with fine gold lining, the teapot gently steaming as if it had just been poured. Matching cups and saucers sat ready beside it, perfectly placed.

"Whoa…" Puck breathed, her earlier disappointment vanishing completely as her eyes widened, taking in everything laid before them. Her gaze moved from one dish to another, lingering enough on each as if trying to decide where to even begin.

"Please, do enjoy," Glinda offered, her voice soft, carrying easily across the length of the table. As soon as the words left her lips, a few of the attendants who had stood silently along the walls began to move.

Their movements were precise. Without a word, they approached the table, each taking a position beside a different dish. With careful hands, they began cutting into the warm loaves of bread, the crust giving way cleanly beneath their blades, while others sliced portions of meat with equal ease.

They placed portions neatly onto the plates before each guest, adjusting placement as though presentation alone was important.

Puck received a smaller plate, the portions adjusted to match her size without making it feel like an afterthought. The Cowardly Lion was given a sizable portion—enough to suit his frame, though he still looked hesitant to even touch it.

The Good Witch, if nothing else, was considerate.

"I wonder…" Glinda tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes shifting toward Grimm as she watched him with curiosity. "Will you at least remove your helmet to eat? It would make things a little easier, wouldn't it? Or perhaps more comfortable?"

"I can eat just fine with it," Grimm replied vaguely, his tone flat, offering no elaboration.

"Ooh?" Glinda's eyes lit up just a fraction, interest clearly piqued. "Is it some sort of clever trick, then? Something unusual? I must admit, you've made me curious now."

"You'll see," Grimm said simply, offering nothing more.

Glinda smiled at that—not disappointed, but rather as if the lack of explanation made it more interesting. "Well then, I suppose I shall look forward to it. There's something to be said for a little mystery at the table, after all."

She rested her hand lightly against the surface, posture relaxed. "At any rate, even if it may seem a little tiresome to some, we can eat and speak at the same time. I've always found that conversations flow better when people are not entirely focused on them."

"If you do not mind," Snow interjected lightly, though there was a firmness beneath her tone that made it clear this was less of a suggestion and more of a boundary, "I would rather not discuss Retorta Guild business with outside factors present."

Her gaze shifted, settling directly onto Grimm as she spoke. It was not subtle.

Glinda noticed immediately.

"Worry not," she said smoothly, her attention returning to Snow with the same calm tone. "I have set aside more than enough time for you privately later. We will have all the time we need to speak properly and perhaps even more than that, if the conversation proves worthwhile."

Her smile remained unchanged, but there was something in the cadence of her voice that made the words stand out a little more than they should have.

Snow's brows furrowed slightly at that, the response not quite aligning with what she had expected. For a brief moment, her composure faltered, enough that the confusion was there if one looked closely.

Fortunately, Glinda had already shifted her attention elsewhere.

"Now I gat—hm?" Glinda began, only to cut herself off mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to the plate in front of Grimm.

It was empty.

Completely.

Her eyes lingered on it for a moment, as if confirming what she was seeing before she looked back up at him. "You already finished eating?"

"I did," Grimm confirmed without hesitation.

Puck turned toward him immediately, blinking in disbelief. "Seriously? We literally just got our food, Grimm. I haven't even decided where to start yet and you're just done?"

Her eyes turned down to his plate and back up again, as if expecting there to be some sign she had missed.

There was nothing.

"Oh?" Glinda leaned forward just slightly, her curiosity now fully engaged. "What method did you employ? I couldn't perceive anything at all. It was as though the food simply ceased to be there."

"I doubt it would be of much interest," Grimm replied flatly. "I just ate fast."

Puck stared at him for a moment longer before exhaling. "That's absurdly 'fast,'" she muttered under her breath.

Glinda, however, only smiled faintly, her interest not diminished in the slightest despite the simple answer. If anything, it seemed to amuse her more.

"But," Grimm continued, shifting slightly in his seat, the sound of armor settling accompanying the motion, "I am more curious as to why you wanted this talk in the first place. You did not gather us here simply to demonstrate your hospitality."

"Of course," Glinda said, her tone softening just a touch as she leaned back into her seat, her expression settling into a more composed one. "Then I shall get to it."