Too many eyes were trained on his sweet little blushing mate, and Theodore had to exert great control to keep himself from growling.
It wouldn’t do to snap at nobles for nothing. He didn’t want to stir trouble just yet – not more than he already did by killing Ivan already.
“Sweet of you to join us,” his mother said in a contempt-filled tone, her eyes full of disdain glaring at Emily briefly.
He looked around the big table, and there were only two vacant places left, one next to his father, and the other on the far end of the table. He blamed his mother for the seating arrangements.
He didn’t want to leave Emily alone in the middle of those vultures, but he didn’t know what to do without causing an uproar.
His sister was standing in front of the chair next to the one reserved to him.
He gave her pointed looks, and she sprung into action, as he and Emily took two steps forward.
“Emily, you can have my seat,” she announced softly. “I know how you can’t stand the thought of being separated from my brother for any amount of time.”
“Oh, Serena,” his mate was troubled and didn’t know how to just accept his sister’s kindness, and ended up settling for a sweet, “Much obliged.”
Some whispers arose at that. They ranged from “Did she just call the princess by her given name?” to “Who does this paramour think she is?”
“This is my mate you lot are talking about,” he said in a deadly cold voice, “Know your place or else…” he trailed off, his intent clear to anyone present.
“Theo,” his mate muttered his name, sounding both embarrassed and teary-eyed, and it had only just begun.
“Let’s have lunch, shall we?” His mother interjected before she and his father sat down at the head of the table.
In sync, almost out of habit, the nobles settled into their chairs at once.
Theodore, however, wanted to prove a point, and moved the chair back to his sweet Emily. He held it while she sat down and adjusted herself before sitting next to her.
She was blushing adorably.
His brother, who was sitting across from him, offered him a discreet smile. He must have understood that he wanted the nobles to respect and accept her as his mate, not only as his lover.
Lunch was boring as per usual when nobles came over, but at least his mother behaved rather nicely in their presence and didn’t bully Emily.
It was time for dessert when one of the nobles announced, “I hear you love pears, Emily,” Theodore was ticked that his mate would be addressed so casually, and by a man no less. “I had my cook bake a cake for you especially. Consider it my welcoming to you.”
“How utterly thoughtful of you,” the queen declared almost in a bored tone.
The cake that was brought smelled heavenly. Theodore wanted to know what the man’s endgame was. Surely, he wasn’t about to try to snatch his mate away from him, was he?
The first slice was given to Emily. She expressed her gratitude by muttering a sweet thank you.
A few more nobles expressed their desire to have a bite. “Let’s see what the princess says about it first,” the man announced, a smirk on his face.
It was the smirk that did it to Theodore.
“Let me have a taste, dorogaya,” he said softly.
“No!” Amos, the noble who had supposedly had the cake baked out of a good intention, exclaimed at once, in a panic-filled tone.
“What do you mean no?” Theodore raised an eyebrow questioningly as more suspicions wormed their way into his mind.
“I mean to say that…” the man trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.
Emily, who had a spoonful of cake, and was about to taste it, looked between the two men, a perplexed expression on her face.
She was about to have the first bite when Theodore stopped her by grabbing her wrist.
He shook his head negatively at her when she gave him a bemused look.
“Come here, Amos,” was the command he uttered loud and clear for everyone to hear.
“What is wrong, son?” The king asked in a relatively bored tone. “You’re disrupting lunch.”
“I won’t for long, father,” Theodore told him darkly as he glared at the visibly sweating noble.
“Do you want me to come for you instead?” Theodore then declared challengingly.
Amos rode to his feet, and then instead of heading towards where Theodore was seated, he tried to make a run for it – keyword here being tried. Serena, who was sitting relatively close to the man, got up and stopped him rather easily.
Theodore rose to his feet, grabbed Emily’s plate, and approached the man with murder on his mind.
“What, pray tell, did you run for the hills for?” He asked matter-of-factly.
“Your highness, please,” the man begged for mercy when he obviously deserved none.
Theodore regarded him levelly as he took a few more steps forward and then stood in front of him.
“Princess Serena, please,” the man said her name almost as if she could or would save him if he begged enough.
“How about you have a bite of this, my dear Amos?” Serena suggested almost slyly.
He shook his head negatively. “I’m not fond of pears, I’ll have to admit.”
“But you aren’t allergic, right?” Serena giggled darkly at her own joke. Supernatural beings didn’t have allergies – at least not to food. “Surely you can indulge in a slice of cake.”
“Princess, please.”
“For me?” She cooed.
He opened his mouth to speak or beg for mercy some more, and Theodore just took the chance to force feed him the cake.
The man struggled as Serena maintained a tight hold on his arms, keeping him in place, while Theodore told him darkly, “Shh. Just eat, Amos.”
It wasn’t long before the man had to swallow, face ashen.
“Are you going to explain what’s the meaning of this, son?” The queen demanded to know at long last, seemingly fed up with the interruption.
Theodore didn’t believe his mother was fool enough not to have understood, but she wanted a verbal clarification nonetheless.
And she was about to get one.
“Well, let us just observe lord Amos’ reaction to the cake first,” he offered her.
The audience waited with bated breath for something, anything. And nothing happened for quite a while – so long that Serena was about to release the noble. Theodore glared at her and she kept holding the man.
A few seconds later, powerful spasms wrecked havoc on Amos’ body. The man all but convulsed as if his body was rejecting what he had eaten.
It was only a matter of seconds before the man dropped to the ground in agony.
“Was it really that bad of a cake?” Theodore drawled sarcastically as he crouched down to the man’s level.
The man opened his mouth, probably to say something spiteful, only to end up throwing up blood instead.
“Oh god!” The exclamation came from none other than his sweet Emily.
She was not used to such things, such bloody displays.
Theodore gave Liam a pointed look, and this latter rose to his feet, and announced, “Let me accompany you to your bedchamber, Emily. I sense that you are not well.”
She stood up almost mechanically, and followed him out of there.
Theodore turned to the nobles and his parents with crimson eyes promising hell to pay.
“Who else was involved in the attempt to poison my mate?” He tilted his head dangerously to the side. “Not only is she my mate, but she’s your princess and future queen. Do you not remember that the punishment for treason is death? Shall I give you a reminder?”