novelraw Chapter 76 : A Seat at the Table
Chapter 76 : A Seat at the Table
Selene’s POV
The table felt heavier than usual that night. Lyra carried in the dishes, set Riaz on her lap, and retreated to the corner as always. Elara sat across from me, Edmond at her side, and Seris Revingale — yes, Revingale — seated with a soldier’s posture and fire in her eyes.
I forced myself to breathe evenly, pouring tea as though nothing were amiss.
“So,” I asked, keeping my tone light, “how long is the Academy’s holiday?”
Elara answered politely, “One month, Mother. Enough time to rest, train, and… spend with family.”
Her lips curved in a small smile. I almost smiled back, but then she said it.
“I also want to use this time to introduce Seris properly. To make her… my brother’s fiancée.”
The words slammed into me like a blade. My fingers froze around the teapot’s handle.
Calm. Always calm. I set it down gently, though my knuckles were white. “So that is why you brought her here.” My voice came out even, but colder than ice. “You thought you could walk into this house and decide Rooga’s future for him?”
Seris sat straighter, unflinching. Elara, however, met my gaze directly.
“Mother, I know what you’re thinking. The Revingale name. The dishonor of her father. But this is Seris, not him. You taught me yourself — family names and titles can be stripped, but who we choose to be matters more.”
For a moment, I had no words.
Because she wasn’t wrong. She sounded older than her years, steadier than even some nobles twice her age. But it wasn’t dishonor that made my blood run hot.
It was the thought of giving my Rooga — my miracle, my child — to anyone.
“Unbelievable,” I murmured, my chest tight. “To speak of him like a prize to be claimed. He is three years old, Elara. Three. And you bring a bride to his table?”
The silence crackled. Elara’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t waver. “Mother, you want to protect him. I want to build his future. Someday you will need to look beyond your fears.”
I almost snapped back, but Darius’s voice cut through, low and steady.
“That won’t be necessary.”
We all turned to him. He rarely spoke during such arguments, but now his eyes were sharp, his presence heavy.
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“Rooga already has someone,” Darius said firmly. “Before all this, when we were still nobles, I made a promise. To a merchant friend. That our children would wed.”
The room froze. Elara’s brows furrowed. Edmond looked caught between confusion and discomfort. Seris’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t speak.
And me?
I clenched my hands beneath the table, my mask never faltering.
Because the truth was… I had almost forgotten that promise. And now it had returned like a shadow at the door.
Elara’s POV
A merchant’s daughter?
The words rattled in my skull like a curse.
I slammed my palm against the table before I realized it, the plates rattling. “What nonsense is this? A merchant’s daughter, Father? You would tie Rooga to people like that?”
Darius’s gaze flickered but stayed calm. “It was a promise. A bond of trust.”
I leaned forward, heat surging into my chest. “Trust? Merchants know nothing of trust! They chase profit. They bend their words like reeds in the wind. When there’s a fight, they run. When there’s famine, they hoard. When there’s blood, they sell it back at twice the price!”
My voice rose sharper with every word.
“Merchants don’t raise their blades for empire. They don’t hold lines when enemies break through. They don’t bleed for honor — they weigh it in gold and call it a bargain. And you want my brother — my brother — to be shackled to that kind of family?”
The room went silent. Edmond shifted uneasily, his eyes darting to mine, but I ignored him.
Seris sat straighter, her jaw firm, but I caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes. She’d expected resistance, yes, but not this fury.
I pressed on, voice hard as steel. “If Rooga is to be bound, let it be to someone who will stand beside him in blood and fire. Someone who will protect him, not sell him to the highest bidder.”
My gaze snapped to Seris, then back to my parents. “Not a merchant. Never a merchant.”
I realized my hands were trembling. I clenched them tight, hiding the shake.
Because under all the anger, there was something rawer, sharper.
Fear.
Fear that someone unworthy would take Rooga’s hand — and he would smile, and laugh, and give himself away to a world that had no idea what he was.
Not while I breathed.
Father didn’t raise his voice. He never needed to.
“Enough, Elara.”
The command in his tone froze the words on my tongue. His hand rested on the table, not clenched, not tense, just steady — the same hand that once swung the empire’s proudest blade.
“As Valemont,” he said, his gaze heavy on me, “we hold our promises higher than steel. They are what bind us. What make us worthy of trust. A man who breaks his word is no Valemont at all.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, glaring. “Even if the promise is rotten? Even if it ties Rooga to liars and cowards?”
His eyes softened, though his voice did not. “If their family is the one to cancel it, then so be it. I won’t force chains on my son. But as long as they hold to our bond, I will not break it.”
My nails dug crescents into my palms.
Always promises. Always duty. Even when it hurt. Even when it put us here, in exile, in the borderlands.
“Father,” I said tightly, “a promise to a merchant is built on coin, not blood. When the winds shift, so will their words. Why should Rooga’s future rest on such sand?”
He didn’t flinch. “Because I gave my word.”
The finality in his tone struck harder than any blade.
I looked away, my teeth grinding.
Why? Why must Father cling so tightly to honor when it was that very honor that dragged us down? When dishonorable men like Revingale thrived, laughing on their thrones?
I wanted to scream it at him. To tell him his promise meant nothing compared to Rooga’s safety.
But I couldn’t. Not with that calm, unshakable resolve in his eyes.
Damn promises. Damn honor.
If Father wouldn’t protect Rooga from such a future… then I would.