Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 147: It Feels Like A Royal Court

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: It Feels Like A Royal Court

The hall they led us through was wide and glowing, the floors a blackened marble polished to a mirror-like sheen. Veyce walked beside me with a skip in his step, humming a tune under his breath that sounded like it came from some forest no map had ever named.

"This way," he said, tail flicking behind him, brushing against my sleeve every few seconds like a curious cat that had decided I was worth keeping. "It’s the best place to eat. Everyone else tries to sneak in even when they’re not allowed."

"Are we allowed?" I asked, keeping pace with him even though my legs were still stiff from class.

"Technically, yes. Supreme Lord gave you a personal estate, right?"

I nodded hesitantly.

Veyce grinned. "Then you’re allowed."

The corridor opened into a grand staircase, and then beyond that—an atrium so large I lost count of how many balconies surrounded it. Light spilled from above, not sunlight, but something softer and more magical. A silvery sky that shimmered like mother-of-pearl reflected across the walls, and every corner of the room was filled with humans...no demons.

I froze in place at the entrance, eyes wide.

This wasn’t just a dining hall.

It was a court.

Massive and glittering with power.

Long, low tables were draped in gold-trimmed cloths, covered in delicate glass trays and silver platters piled with dishes I couldn’t name. The scent in the air was dizzying—sweet syrups, roasted spices, buttery creams, and something floral that made my mouth water before I even stepped forward.

Everywhere I looked, there were figures more beautiful and strange than anything I’d seen before.

A woman with translucent wings that shimmered like stained glass sat with a tray of bright glowing fruits—fae royalty, judging by the small crown woven into her braids. Nearby, a tall man with obsidian scales curling up his neck cut meat with talons so sharp they left scratches in the gold plate—dragonkin, unmistakably. His eyes burned like dying embers.

At one far table, a demonic beast with a lion’s body and a human face laughed heartily while pouring red wine into a jeweled cup. Next to him, a pair of serpent-like twins hissed to each other in a language I didn’t recognize.

Veyce leaned close, eyes gleaming. "Don’t stare too long. They can smell disrespect."

I snapped my eyes away and coughed. "Who are all these people?"

"The important ones," he whispered. "This place... this is where the chosen dine. Demons, fae, dragons, high beasts—even some from outside the realm entirely. Ambassadors. Rulers. Servants of ancient bloodlines. You can’t offend anyone here. Some of them hold the power to dissolve an entire house with a word."

"And we’re just... walking in?" I asked, lowering my voice instinctively.

Veyce just grinned and laughed. "Of course. We are new but one of them...with little to no power."

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. But I followed.

We slipped past a low-hanging vine curtain into one of the more private alcoves of the court, and a servant bowed wordlessly before gesturing to a velvet-lined table near the window. Sunlight—or its illusion—cascaded over the surface of the table, turning the gold silverware into tiny beams of fire.

The moment we sat, another servant brought out trays without being asked.

First came a bowl of pearlescent porridge drizzled in black honey and saffron threads. Then soft breads wrapped around cured meats, each slice bearing a faint shimmer as if dusted in edible starlight. There was a pale pink tea served in crystalline glasses, and a platter of colorful eggs that steamed gently, infused with herbs I couldn’t name but immediately loved.

"This is incredible," I whispered, unable to keep the awe from my voice.

Veyce was already on his third bite of something that looked like a sugar-glazed root. "Told you. They get ingredients from all twelve realms. Nothing here tastes the same twice. Every plate is chosen by the chefs based on your aura."

"My... aura?"

He nodded, mouth full. "Mhm. That’s how they knew what you needed. That porridge? That’s for grounding. You looked a little... floaty."

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But when I took my first real bite, everything inside me quieted. The warmth spread from my mouth to my stomach, and then up to my chest, like someone had reached into me and lit a small flame there. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d felt until that moment.

The food was perfect. But more than that... it made me feel like I belonged.

I ate more than I had in days. Veyce chattered beside me, pointing discreetly at different figures in the court.

"That’s Lady Iskar—dragon duchess from the northern sky tribes. The guy next to her? Beast-lord of the eastern marshes. Don’t joke about his tail. He will kill you."

I nearly choked.

"That guy with the black feathers? That’s a harpy prince. Technically. Don’t get on his bad side."

I listened, half in amusement, half in disbelief. Veyce had a story for nearly everyone, and none of them were boring. He spoke with the care of someone who had been here long enough to know what words could get you killed—and with the freedom of someone who still hadn’t quite let that fear define him.

For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt myself relax.

We laughed. Talked. I even smiled. I forgot about the red mark on my crystal slip. Forgot about Lady Enira’s smirk. About Dorian’s touch. About the way my hands had trembled when I’d dressed that morning.

Here, at this table, I was just a boy with food in front of him and someone kind beside him.

And for a little while, that was enough.

I sipped the rose-colored tea and let the warmth spread across my chest, settling there like a promise. The court, for all its splendor, felt almost surreal now—like I had stepped into a painting and was trying not to smudge the edges.

"This place," I said quietly, watching the shifting bodies and flickering light, "it feels like a royal court. Like where the highest-ranking members of the palace gather..."

Veyce paused mid-bite.

Then he smiled in that dangerous, too-honest way he had.

"Oh, it is," he said casually, licking honey from his thumb. "It’s the Court of Concubines."

I blinked. "...What?"

He tilted his head. "This whole section. All these people. Every single one? They belong to the Supreme Lord himself. This is where his favored go to eat."

I spat out the sip of tea I’d just taken, coughing violently.

Veyce laughed so hard he nearly tipped his chair.

"Welcome to the top, Cassian," he said between giggles. "Try not to die."