<h4>Chapter 241: Chapter 241 The Devil’s Dessert</h4>


    Cecilia’s pov


    "It’s a berry trifle," Belinda announced, her voice smooth as silk and practiced to perfection--like a flight attendant describing a crashnding with a smile.


    Across the long, candlelit table, someone muttered, "Finally, something that doesn’t look like a punishment."


    "Praise the Moon Goddess," another guest whispered, not quite low enough. "Maybe this one won’t try to kill us."


    The collective relief was almostical. After a parade of dishes that looked like failed science experiments, the appearance of real dessert was practically a religious experience.


    It was well after nine, stomachs were growling, and with no way off the ind until tomorrow afternoon--this might be the only safe meal we got.


    Servants moved with choreographed precision, cing crystal bowls in front of each guest. Each trifle was a work of art-yers of sponge cake, whipped cream, summer berries, and glistening jam. The scent hit me like a memory : buttery vani and sun-ripened fruit.


    I’d always had a thing foryered desserts. Around me, forks were already clinking with desperate enthusiasm.


    I picked up my spoon. Paused. Then set it down again.


    Why the hell would dessert be the only thing that wasn’t suspicious tonight?


    "Eat," Sebastian said beside me--low, calm, like a man who’d survived enough poisonings to tell the difference.


    I hesitated. His tone was steady. Certain. Too certain.


    I took a small bite.


    "You can’t keep skipping meals," he added. "Besides, I doubt the poison would be lethal."


    I stopped cold, spoon hovering midair. "...Excuse me?"


    He met my re with that infuriating half-smile. "Rx. I’m kidding. It’s fine."


    My appetite? Gone.


    Sure, logic said Belinda and her cult wouldn’t gain anything by killing us. But "not deadly" didn’t mean "not tampered with."


    We were sealed in on an ind. If they wanted to hurt us, they had endless options. Food. Water. Air. Sleep. No escape.


    And suddenly, I got it.


    This wasn’t a party. It was a test. A cage with gilded trim.


    We weren’t guests--we wereb rats.


    With that charming thought, I resumed eating.


    Tang was already polishing off his second helping,pletely unbothered. Everyone else at the table--except our ever-fasting Alpha--was diving into dessert like it was theirst supper.


    Even Belinda took a dainty bite, smiling like she’d just solved world peace.


    She turned to Sebastian, her voice syrupy sweet. "Are you absolutely sure you won’t try a taste, Alpha Sebastian?"


    Sebastian gave her the full scan--face, neck, shoulders--but his expression didn’t budge. He looked like a man evaluating a winebel, not a woman.


    "I’m afraid high-sugar foods are strictly off-limits," he replied smoothly. "They elerate skin aging."


    Belindaughed, low and knowing. "You do take remarkable care of yourself. Perhaps you’d like to join me in my suiteter? We could discuss your... wellness routine in private."


    Her hand slid toward his.


    My stomach twisted--not from poison, but from something far more annoying.


    Sebastian reached for his water ss, expertly dodging her touch. "I’d hate to show favoritism. Wouldn’t want the other guests feeling left out, Ms. Belinda."


    Belinda’sugh was too perfect, too rehearsed. "Oh, don’t worry. When the Ascendancy assigns me to host an event, I make sure no one leaves unsatisfied."


    Her voice lingered on the word. Like a threat in lipstick.


    Every head at the table lifted.


    Reactions flickered--from amusement to difort to barely concealed panic.


    The room fractured into a dozen private storms of interpretation.


    Sebastian tilted his head, smile razor-sharp. "Now that sounds... intriguing."


    His gaze lingered on her for a beat too long.


    Then he reached for his water ss and took a sip.


    A momentter, the ss tipped--just enough to send a cool stream of water trickling over Belinda’s manicured hand.


    "My apologies," he said with effortless charm, offering his napkin. "How clumsy of me."


    "No harm done." Belinda lifted her hand, allowing him to dab it dry.


    Far from upset, she seemed to bask in his attention.


    That frozen face somehow managed to convey coyness.


    I watched silently, keeping my expression neutral. Vance, however, looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel.


    The other guests observed this exchange with diplomatic silence, trading loaded nces with theirpanions.


    After dinner, Belinda led us upstairs to the second floor of the castle.


    "You’ll all be staying here tonight," she announced, her smile stretching just a little too wide. "Rooms have been prepared--two guests per chamber. If you came alone, you may request a private suite, although I wouldn’t rmend it. The wind howls terribly at night, and solitude can... unsettle the mind."


    Creepy.


    "Take some time to rest and freshen up," she added, voice syrupy. "We’ll continue the festivities shortly."


    Wait--stay in the castle?


    A ripple of unease moved through the group. Weren’t we supposed to stay in the vis near the hills? And what did she mean by the wind and "unsettling the mind"?


    And freshen up for what, exactly?


    No one asked. But the tension was thick enough to chew through.


    A few guests looked at Sebastian like they were hoping he’d object.


    He didn’t. He looked vaguely bored.


    The steward pped his hands, and servants began escorting people to their assigned rooms.


    "Cece, shall we--" Evelyn reached for my arm, clearly nning to room with me.


    I beat her to it.


    I slipped my arm through Sebastian’s and said, with zero shame, "I’m afraid of ghosts. He has strong protective energy."


    Evelyn froze, hand suspended in the air.


    Vance choked on augh.


    Sebastian nced down at me, amused, then turned to Evelyn and shook his head. "Not possible."


    "Selfish," she muttered under her breath.


    Tang and Sawyer were assigned the room next to ours.


    Evelyn and Vance were ced across the hall.


    We all exchanged a fewst nces before disappearing behind our respective doors.


    Inside our room, I hovered near the door, listening.


    Nothing. No footsteps, no whispers. Just muffled silence.


    "Picking up any ghostly frequencies?" Sebastian leaned in, whispering near my ear. "Cece, be honest--do you really think this castle is haunted?"


    "You’re such a--"


    Before I could shove him, he yanked me forward and crushed me against his chest.


    "Quick, absorb some protective energy. Deep breaths."


    "Mmph!"


    My face was smushed into his shirt so hard I could practically count the threads.


    I jabbed him in the ribs. "Can you be serious for, like, one minute? Something’s off. Why send us to our rooms if there’s more’festivities’ nned? What are they really doing? Did you figure it out?"


    He cupped my face in his hands, and just like that, the yfulness vanished. His expression turned sharp. Focused.


    "Yes."


    My stomach dropped. "What is it?"