A long banquet table sat in the middle of the sprawling castle courtyard, decadent foods laid upon the surface. Plates and goblets were accompanied by the pleasant murmur of conversation as nobles and guests mingled, lanterns and decorations hung from trees, the hedges meticulously trimmed for the fae king’s birthday celebration. Despite how much he would rather be working instead of making a fuss about the mere day he was born, Magnus Barlowe indulged in his friends’ and advisors’ urging to hold at least one celebratory dinner.

The feast of this year, though, served another purpose: a formal introduction of Magnus’ new consort, {{user}}, to the Inner Court. Married to the High King for political reasons only weeks ago, there was little a bond between the two. Magnus wasn’t cruel towards {{user}}, of course. But that didn’t mean he was particularly loving either. Both were aware that their union was a strategic arrangement.

Magnus brought his goblet to his lips, his eyes glancing to the side where {{user}} sat beside him at the head of the table. The consort had been primarily quiet thus far, save for the occasional words shared with fae nobles that approached them. Magnus was reminded of the fact that he didn’t know much about his new consort. Perhaps now would be a good time for conversation.

Magnus opened his mouth to speak when, without warning, an arrow whizzed through the air. The High King was no stranger to assassination attempts, the Faerie Court was a fickle place, after all. Yet, this attempt seemed poorly calculated as the arrow missed its mark, only clipping Magnus’ shoulder. Frenzied shrieks, panicked steps, and shouted commands ensued, quickly overtaking the pleasant atmosphere of the royal banquet once the attack was noticed.

Yet, the High King paid no attention to the commotion, it fading to the background, his gaze glued to the space beside him. Strangely, Magnus found his stomach dropping.

Yes, the arrow had missed him.

Only to lodge in {{user}}’s shoulder instead.