Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖

what I have yet to achieve. He does seem to think I have potential, which is why he’s reaching out to me. In a way, I suppose that demonstrates fear. Fear of the unknown greatness I’ll one day achieve.

That leaves elegance. Elegance is what he is interested in tonight, and unfortunately for me, it is what I struggle with more than anything. Elegance is something this man never strays from. He is refined in every way. I have never seen the man lose his temper or walk with a slouch or dress down in anything less than stylish. The man even eats seared elephant trunk in a way that others aspire to. His elegant persona is polished beyond comprehension, and that is what I must demonstrate tonight. But how? That is the challenge.

I continue eating my meal, fearful I might insult the man if I don’t finish what is on my plate. Not that my appetite would allow any less, but I am reluctant to even leave a crumb of bread.

The two servant boys enter the room once again. This time, they approach with one larger covered platter that takes one boy on each side to carry. I thought the trunk and the honey rolls were plenty. I can’t imagine what is being served that requires such a large silver platter.

The boys steadily approach the table, proving they’ve done this on numerous occasions. Sasha rushes in to collect the first two platters to clear room for the main dish. When they ease it onto the table and remove the lid, they reveal steaming shellfish. Just as my mother had cooked the last missed opportunity I had to sit and dine with her. Seared prawns, buttered crab legs, and a variety of steamed clams, all decorated by a colorful garnish for presentation.

The Taoiseach is served first but politely waits for a plate to be placed in front of me. “The weather has been quite abnormal as of late. Have you seen some of the trees? They’re acting as if summer has already ebbed. And rumors are spreading the northern Ceruleans have received their first snowfall. Quite odd, don’t you think?”

Now I’ve certainly lost him. The man has started speaking of weather patterns. There is nothing more stagnant than the common, everyday weather that acquaintances tend to make the highlight of their day. No. I will not have us discuss weather. I’m better than that. “Yes, odd indeed,” I say politely.

A plate of seafood is placed in front of me. Having missed out on the last opportunity to eat a meal that looks as disgusting as this, I’m not quite sure where to start. I watch the Taoiseach for a moment to make sure I do it correctly. He eloquently picks up his knuckle-crackers and snaps into the first crab leg. The sound of it agitates me, sending a shiver through my body.

Then, a dim glow presents itself in the shadows of the room. I force my gaze to the food in front of me, trying to ignore it, but it won’t go away. She won’t go away. “Not now,” I say quietly but, unfortunately, loud enough for the Taoiseach to hear. “You’re not welcome here.”

“Take a bite, Jay. You’ll love it, I promise.” My mother’s voice calls out unnervingly. As always, she is a mere apparition, like a wisp of mist, but I can make out her physical appearance as if she were standing in this great hall. She radiates beauty and warmth, which doesn’t seem logical to me. But then again, seeing ghosts isn’t logical to begin with.

“Please,” I say with more subtlety and control. “Not now.”

I fail to look at him in the moment, but I know I have lost the Taoiseach. He might see my power, have a fascination for my uncouth behavior, and fear the unknown of my potential, but without the display of discipline and elegance, I have already lost him. Why is she visiting me now?

“Pardon me?” the Taoiseach inquires and looks over his shoulder to see whom I am speaking to.

There is nobody there. At least nobody he can see. I have yet to conclude as to whether she is real or simply the result of a disturbing childhood. I do know I am the only one that sees her, which makes me lean toward the latter. The Taoiseach looks back in my direction, puzzled.

“Jay, dear. Why are you so upset?” my mother asks, but I ignore her. She is standing just behind the Taoiseach now, so it will be difficult, but if I can ignore her, I might be able to salvage this disaster.

“Uh…um…my apologies. I thought I saw a rodent…”

He looks at me strangely. “There are no rodents in my household. None I don’t wish to be here anyhow.”

“Again, my apologies. I have a thing with rodents…” I pause. That’s not something to brag about. If I am trying to impersonate someone who is so great, powerful, and fearful, why would I be afraid of rodents? “…while I’m eating. I’m sure you can understand.” I try to salvage the lie as best as I can.

“Yes. Well…there are none.” There’s irritation in his tone.

I pick up the knuckle-crackers—wondering what the formal name for these things is—and grab a crab leg.

“Jay, please don’t do it.” It’s a soft and eerie whisper. Her tone has changed. There’s fear in her voice. “He’s not the one, Jay,” she whispers again. I pause, holding the cracker in one hand and the exoskeleton in the other. “You know it. You can feel it in your heart. He’s not the one that will give you retribution. Don’t do it.” I look up in her direction. Her hands are placed on her heart. A glimmer runs down her cheek. She’s crying.

I squeeze down on the crackers and break through the crab leg. Her face distorts and changes into