“The Festival of Light has been around as long as Baris Abbey. The first abbot wrote the chant they sung this evening thousands of years ago, even before House Maris ruled the Northern Shores.”

“Amazing,” Selene murmured. Did Rook Castle or the Magyr Mountains hold such history? She only knew as far back as Rabanna and the imperial razing, but nothing earlier. But there had to be more. House Ravenwood had existed as long as the other Great Houses. Even with all her research, she still had not been able to find the rest of their history.

They reached the formal dining hall. Taegis opened the door and ushered Damien and Selene inside. The hall was exquisitely decorated for the festival. Thick candles were set in glass tubes along the wide table, surrounded by pine branches and small red berries. Plates trimmed in silver sat before each chair, alongside matching goblets and two-pronged forks. Dipping bowls were ready for finger washing, and the servants were already pouring the wine.

Voices filled the hall as members from lesser houses, wealthy sea merchants, and those of importance entered the dining hall, including Healer Sildaern, whom Selene hadn’t seen since her arrival at Northwind Castle. His long black hair hung around his shoulders, and he wore deep green robes trimmed in silver, the colors of House Rafel. He glanced at Selene with a curious expression before turning away.

Selene frowned as Damien pulled out the chair to the right of his. As she sat down, his fingers brushed her shoulders, then he pushed the chair back in. Taegis took a seat on Damien’s left. Damien settled in between them and gazed around the room, nodding and smiling.

Food was brought in minutes later: tureens of cream soup, platters of meat, including venison and poultry, and various dishes of fish and seafood. Roasted root vegetables were served along with dried fruits baked in puddings. Bread was provided to mop up the extra broth and sauce. Wine and honeyed mead was poured into common goblets set around the dining hall.

Conversation filled the air as those gathered washed their fingers and began to fill their plates. Selene helped herself to a small portion of fish and vegetables but found even with the array of tantalizing dishes and atmosphere of merriment, she wasn’t hungry. Instead, her entire being was focused on Damien beside her. She listened to the words he spoke, noticed every smile he gave, and felt the strange warble of her heart when his eyes captured hers.

She took a sip from the goblet between them and appreciated the smooth, sweet taste of the honeyed mead but was careful not to drink too much. She had no desire to lose her sense of judgment, one of the many lessons her mother had drilled into her from her training, and one to which she still adhered. A dreamer must always be in her right mind.

“You’ve barely eaten. Are you all right?”

Selene stared once again into his deep blue eyes and felt a whoosh inside her middle. “Yes. I’m afraid I’m not that hungry tonight.”