CHAPTER 332: DINNER IV

"You really are not going to tell us where you’re from?" Adam asked finally, breaking the silence that had settled thickly over the table. His tone was almost casual, but the glint in his eyes was anything but.

He picked up his cutlery, slicing neatly into the roast on his plate with the sort of precision that said he was used to control—of people, of power, of moments like this.

To diffuse the tension that had risen after my little exchange with Claire, he had rung the bell earlier, calling in the servants to begin the dining proper.

Silver trays, covered dishes, and the soft clinking of china had replaced the dangerous quiet that had been hanging over the room.

It had worked, mostly—Daniel’s glare had softened, Noah was back to smiling lazily, and even Claire had forced herself into silence, though her chest still heaved from suppressed fury.

But now, with the food before us and the air perfumed with spice and roasted meat, Adam went straight back to his question. Persistent. The kind of man who didn’t like unanswered things.

Among the royals, he was the only one who hadn’t seemed perturbed by my refusal to disclose everything about myself. If anything, curiosity flickered behind that calm exterior. I wasn’t sure yet whether to be amused or wary of that.

"Does it matter?" I asked quietly.

Claire, still flushed with anger, scoffed before Adam could respond. "If I should take a guess, she’s a scout, sent to check out the land."

"For what?" Isla asked before I could. Her tone was sweet, curious, and just sharp enough to make Claire blink.

"I don’t know. You tell me," Claire bit back, recovering quickly and spearing a piece of food with unnecessary force.

I shook my head slightly. Dumb as ever.

"So...?" Adam pressed, voice even, eyes steady.

I filled my mouth with food slowly, gracefully. I looked up just as he raised his fork to his lips, my gaze locking onto his. I didn’t say a word, but I knew the teasing glint in my eyes was enough to make Claire bristle again.

"Stop it!" she snapped, voice slicing through the quiet clinking of silverware.

I turned to her, as if she’d just started speaking another language.

"Quit making a nuisance, Claire. You’re disrupting the peace of the dining."

"Peace of the dining?" she echoed incredulously after Adam’s request. "There is none when these women are here! Can’t you see they’re trouble?"

Adam’s shoulders stiffened. The subtle sign of a man who’d reached his limit.

I smiled faintly and took another forkful of food.

"That’s enough, Claire," he said quietly. The quiet was more dangerous than any shout. "If you can’t be here, return to your room."

For a full second, there was only stunned silence. Claire’s mouth fell open, but so did the others’. Even Lilian and Naomi froze mid-motion. The sight was almost comical—a table full of stunned royals, their queen-to-be dismissed like a servant.

"This must be all fun to you, right? For one who cuts off men’s heads to escape boredom." Daniel’s voice broke through the shock, laced with mocking curiosity. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes glinting with something between challenge and intrigue.

I shrugged. "I’m never one to say no to entertainment."

The words dripped with suggestion, subtle but deliberate. It wasn’t something everyone at the table would catch, but I saw the flicker of awareness in Daniel’s expression, the faint amusement tugging at his lips.

He chuckled, as I’d expected, shaking his head. "How can we confirm you’re a royal?"

"Surely, you can detect it?"

"That could just be some magic essence."

I laughed then—light, genuine—and for a moment, even he smiled. His edges were thawing, just as I wanted.

"Surely, you’re smarter than that," I said softly.

His smile vanished instantly, like a door slamming shut.

"Sage," Adam warned, tone low, clipped.

I tilted my head, feigning contrition. "My apologies, everyone. I haven’t had my morning dose of coffee. Isla too. We’re not usually civil then." I took another forkful, entirely at ease.

"The servants didn’t make that available?" Noah asked, half-teasing. It was the night season after all. Of what use was coffee?

I shrugged. "We just made do with what we were served."

"Next time, ask for coffee."

"Next time?" Naomi repeated, her voice tight with suspicion.

I was curious too, but Adam didn’t elaborate. I had a feeling the words had simply slipped out—an unguarded moment of thought—but pride wouldn’t let him retract it. He pushed on instead.

"You can wait for the men you sent to inquire about me and my friend," I said evenly. "I’m sure they’re on their way back. Unless, of course, they’ve been killed by wild beasts."

Adam frowned. "You had them killed?"

The brides gasped, aghast.

"Not me," I replied lightly. "Since I’ve been here—fighting battles, winning contests, drawing an insane amount of money, I’m sure, into your accounts—considering my status as an underdog, as a woman."

He said nothing for a moment, just watched me. His stillness was predatory, quiet, assessing. But I wasn’t prey. I met his gaze evenly. I occupied the same territory as him, perhaps even higher.

"You’re sure of that," he said finally. "Which means you’re aware."

"Rumors," I corrected smoothly. "Just confirmed by your fiancée a few minutes ago. A streaming service—only that bets are thrown here and there. I’m sure my presence has skyrocketed your income. I dare say, more than tripled the normal."

A pause followed. Silence stretched, thick with the confirmation they didn’t dare give aloud.

"Why though?" I asked softly. "Pack running on empty since daddy dearest left it in your hands? Why did he retire?"

"I’m the one with the questions, Sage," Adam said quietly. "Not you. And you’ll do well to remember that you’re in my pack."

Ah, there it was. The bite beneath the velvet tone.

"Is that a threat I perceive there?"

"Just stating a fact. I don’t make threats."

"Of course you don’t."

I pushed my plate forward and leaned back. "Then I’m done."

Isla mirrored me, setting down her cutlery neatly, hands folded in her lap.

"Food isn’t to your liking?" Daniel asked, mockery curling his lips.

"I’ve had better," Isla replied simply, meeting his gaze with a faint smile.

"Are you trying to ignore the line of questioning?" Naomi asked softly, though the venom beneath her tone wasn’t hidden well.

"There is no line," I said. "And I’m here to dine, not to be interrogated. Or is that what you lot do here?"

Adam inhaled deeply, visibly restraining himself. He must have been contemplating snapping my neck just to end the conversation.

"Are my men dead?" he asked at last, quieter, but tenser. "Why kill them?"

I rolled my eyes. "I never said that. And I’ve been in the pack the whole time. I just don’t know how accepting my people are... you know..."

"And which people is that?"

"Not answering, King. Since you’re not forthcoming with answers either."

His glare was sharp, but I’d been stared down by worse. It didn’t faze me.

"Only ready when you are," I added, dabbing my lips with the serviette.

"Then you’ll be treated as a contestant..."

"That’s how I’ve been treated all along—and I’m not complaining." I cut him off mid-sentence.

His jaw flexed; the muscle there tightened. He bristled but didn’t rise to the bait. The self-control was impressive. Almost admirable.

So I teased him silently with a faint smile.

"So, why am I here then?" I asked. "As a contestant, why was I invited? To... familiarize?"

"Yes," Noah answered before Adam could. His tone was cool, easy, his smirk returning. "But I didn’t think we’d be doing that, seeing as you’re bent on being difficult."

I didn’t bother responding.

"There’s also the listing and choosing of rewards—" Noah began.

"No need," Adam cut in, his gaze still fixed on me. "She’ll know of it if she wins the contest—if she doesn’t die out there. No need wasting our breath."

I smiled, flashing teeth. "Then I’m glad we’ve come to the end of this meeting."

Isla was already rising beside me, smooth as shadow. "Thanks for having us."

Without waiting for a single word of reply, we turned and strode out of the dining room, leaving behind the quiet clatter of utensils, the faint simmer of indignation, and six royals too stunned—and too proud—to call us back.