The dinner table was set, grand and decadent, stretching long enough to seat over fifty. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, bathing the hall in soft golden light. The scent of roasted venison, delicate pastries, and spicy blood wine filled the air. Golden goblets lined the table, some filled with crimson blood meal and others left for those who would dine directly from a host.
Servants moved with silent grace, setting the last of the silver cutlery as a pale, fed female was escorted gently to a corner, baring her wrist to one of the elder purebloods who preferred fresh blood above all else. Elowen, watching from the shadows of the corridor, had never seen such aristocratic horror and elegance so intimately entwined.
"Welcome to our humble dinner, House of Ravenshade, Please, let us dig in," Lord Gaius Hale announced, lifting his goblet.
