Percival novel · Chapter 7 of 24
Chapter 7: Sunday Supper
On Sunday the king ate supper in the great hall, and the whole keep came to watch.
It is the oldest custom at Greyholt.
Two long tables run down the hall, with the king's table across the top, and four hundred wolves eat roast venison and pretend not to stare at each other.
I had sat at the far end of the human staff's table for four years and nobody had ever looked at me.
That night Maisie marched me down the hall in my one good green dress and sat me at the king's right hand.
"Chin up," she said. "They're all looking."
They were.
I felt it.
Percival sat on my other side in a black coat, with his hair tied back and his face composed.
He looked like the calmest man in the world.
Under the tablecloth his knee was pressed hard against mine.
"Mr. Wolcott," I murmured.
"Miss DeMille."
"You're touching me."
"I have not been told otherwise."
I hid my smile in my wine.
Bascombe's chair at the Council table was empty.
I noticed that, and so did Percival.
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–6 of Percival are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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