"What a familiar scene. Whether Necrontyr or human, none of them could do without schemes like this—banquets and slaughter—"
Ron thought.
He had always prepared for the worst. Better safe than sorry, lest he fall into a situation beyond recovery.
He knew that the Crown-bearer Zahndrekh only seemed somewhat senile and muddled. In truth, the other man was more clear-headed than the vast majority of high-ranking Necrontyr.
Perhaps the other man had already realized what he, the Ramesses Phaerakh and Emissary, intended to do, and had also recognized the danger within it.
"You are right, Lord Charles. We should not ruin such a wonderful banquet. That would not be a quality befitting nobles."
After a moment of silence, Zahndrekh still lifted his cup and drained it in one gulp.
In the end, he did not make a move. He chose to be an honored guest.
Zahndrekh sensed the hidden danger, one that would threaten his life. No matter how he looked at it, now was not a good time to start a struggle.
More importantly, deep down, he resisted it. He was unwilling to ruin such a rare moment, especially when he found himself in such a splendid banquet.
He felt better than he ever had, as if he had come back to life again. He had not even let the Poison Tester examine the food before drinking the fine wine the other party had prepared without the slightest concern.
"Lord Zahndrekh, you are a good guest, one with noble qualities, and also a friend the Ramesses Dynasty will always welcome.
"Today, we will discuss no heavy affairs or topics. The only thing we need to do is raise our cups, drink to our hearts' content, and empty every last jar of fine wine."
Ron likewise drained the wine in