Marion had taken great care to secure a knife for Eris before they entered the grand hall. The popping of champagne bottles echoed like the whistle of an arrow volley. The laughter that followed was hollow, almost uncanny. It sounded the way that Marion expected hyenas to sound, though the noise was too human for that. There was a sharp inhale as the elf glanced at the prince, offering a small nod and then their arm. It was back to playing fancy, pretending to scrape, bow, and grovel. ...