Chapter 155 - The Banquet

Chapter 155: 155 - The Banquet

By the time Adrien returned to the central wing, the great hall no longer resembled the room prepared that afternoon. Long tables had been dressed in pale linen and silver, hundreds of lights burned beneath the vaulted ceiling, and music drifted from an ensemble along the western wall.

Most guests had already gone in. Elven nobles filled the floor in formal dress, officials threaded between them with the ease of people raised around a court, and Adrien counted only three other humans in the room. None stood near the royal family, which made his arrival far more conspicuous than he would have liked.

Conversations did not stop, though enough faces turned that he caught the shift. Yesterday he had crossed Sylvarin as an invited foreign noble; tonight everyone present knew the banquet existed partly because of him.

Amelia found him near the entrance. She wore a dark blue dress with silver embroidery along the sleeves, plain beside the court gowns but formal enough that Adrien needed a moment to reconcile it with the woman who had spent the last month travelling in trousers and a coat.

"I wasn’t sure how early I was supposed to come down."

"You’re fine. My parents are already seated, and Lucien and Cordelia arrived a few minutes ago."

Adrien followed her gaze to one of the royal tables. Caelan stood out even among elves, Selene was speaking with Maeriel nearby, and Lucien and Cordelia waited farther down the hall.

Before they could move farther, attendants called the room to order. Laurent rose from the central table with Maeriel, Lysara and Thessane seated beside him and Elowen close to her mother, and the hall fell quiet as the king let his gaze travel across it.

"Thank you for coming tonight."

"Most of you know what happened several weeks ago. My daughter and a number of our people were taken as part of an operation intended to become something much larger than kidnapping. Those responsible expected fear, anger and incomplete information to do the rest."

Adrien held still beside Amelia as Laurent continued. Several nearby nobles had already turned to watch him, waiting for the reason the king had gathered them.

"They expected Sylvamir and Valleroy to answer before either side understood what had actually happened. Had they succeeded, the consequences would have reached far beyond the people they took."

Laurent’s gaze moved toward Adrien.

"Adrien Clairmont helped find those people, brought information forward when it counted, and helped ensure criminals did not decide the relationship between two kingdoms. For that, Sylvamir owes him gratitude."

Nothing in the words struck at Valleroy, and neither Osric nor Arquenay drew a mention. Laurent was thanking Adrien without turning the evening into an accusation against his own country, and that restraint was deliberate.

"House Clairmont deserves to hear that gratitude spoken publicly rather than only behind closed doors."

Laurent raised his glass once the words had carried.

"To Adrien Clairmont."

Glasses rose throughout the room, and Adrien lifted his with them. The toast lasted only seconds, yet when conversation resumed the hall had changed around him, and people who had watched from a distance were already drifting his way.

The first was an older elf who introduced himself as Lord Aerandir Velis, head of a family in trade along the western roads. After the greeting he asked whether Greymoor had begun accepting outside trade again.

"We have, although we’re still rebuilding parts of the territory. I wouldn’t promise large volumes yet."

"What can the region supply reliably?"

"Timber, some agricultural goods, and a few materials we’re still assessing. If your house is interested, I can have my administrator send proper figures once I return rather than give you estimates here."

Aerandir asked where correspondence should be sent and moved on. It was the first exchange of the evening driven by business rather than curiosity, a reminder that Laurent’s speech had handed Clairmont more than gratitude.

The next couple approached more cautiously. Lady Sereth introduced herself and her husband, then asked whether Adrien minded a question about his awakening before going further.

"I heard you awakened late. Is that true?"

"It is. I was coreless for most of my life and awakened recently."

"And you’re a Mage?"

"Yes."

Sereth weighed that before asking the question Adrien had expected.

"Do you have a single affinity?"

"No. I can work with several."

Her husband turned toward him with renewed interest.

"Is that because of the SSS talent people have been talking about?"

"Not directly. The talent registered publicly is Absolute Mana Sense."

"The name is fairly literal, then?"

"For the most part. I can sense mana in much greater detail than normal perception allows. People, spells, formations, enchanted items. Distance and complexity still limit it, but that’s the simplest explanation."

Neither knew anything about Absolute Magus or his other talents, and Adrien had no intention of changing that. Absolute Mana Sense was public already, and it accounted for enough of what people noticed without opening doors he wanted kept shut.

The conversation ran on before another group took their place. Others asked about Elowen’s rescue, Greymoor, or how long he meant to remain in Sylvamir, and most had the sense to ask before building questions around rumours.

One older noble introduced himself and mentioned Alaric after confirming Adrien was his son. His attention sharpened at once, because the elf spoke as a man recalling a person rather than repeating a story.

"You knew my father?"

"Only a little. I met him twice when I was younger, once here and once in Valleroy. He left an impression."

Adrien wanted to ask what kind, but another official collected the noble before the conversation could go further. He committed the name to memory instead and returned to the table once the introductions thinned.

Dinner had already begun, and the hall eased into a steadier rhythm. Amelia sat beside him while conversation carried on across the tables, scattered now that the formal part of the evening had ended.

Adrien looked across the room at people who, yesterday, had known House Clairmont through reports and old history. Tonight they had heard Laurent place the name before the entire court, and more to the point, they had begun fastening a face to it.

Then the attention around him drifted elsewhere. Two elven nobles stood a few paces behind his chair, glasses half raised, and neither was looking at Adrien at all.

"I haven’t seen Lady Edevane in the capital for years."