He felt more nervous than when he had asked his boss for a raise.
Wait. That was Bellavarn. Not me. I never worked a part-time job… ah, screw it.
Both of them hated this place.
Kly opened the doors.
Calling the dining room grand would be insufficient.
The ceiling towered overhead, and there was enough floor space to hold a ball. The long dining table in the center of the room, which could serve two dozen, felt minuscule in the vast space. The sheer size of the landscape paintings on each wall could rival most mansions.
The King waited, already seated at the head of the table. His face, lined with age, sported an eternal grimace. He wore fitting black clothes colored with a royal purple.
In the seat to his left was Tristan, the first prince. A spitting image of his father. Black hair slicked back. The beginning of a familiar scowl was being etched across his face—a younger version of the king.
The king, Francis Lionel II, waved his hand grandly.
"I am pleased you could make it for dinner. Take a seat."
Without a further word, everyone took their seats. Duke Braster sat to the right of the king, followed by The Duchess and then Bellavarn. Kly took the seat next to Tristan. Normally, the First Princess would take the following seat by rules of seniority, but Anne took her place since she proved absent.
Is this normal? They didn't even try to make an excuse for the First Princess.
Without a word, food was brought out in silence. Bellavarn remembered his etiquette but felt it was even more tedious after having memories of a life that never needed to learn such a thing.
Everyone ate in uncomfortable silence for a while. Not being able to speak without the King saying the first words. Before he could, however, the doors slowly opened.
Princess Lecil walked in. Long, straight black hair unfurled, complemented by a dark navy blue dress covering every inch of skin up to her neck.
What stood out to Bellavarn was that she was tall. She was probably taller than the king. Maybe around the same height as Bellavarn? The contrast between the First Princess and her younger sister was stark. Anne looked her age, but Lecil had a haunting maturity that he couldn't quite place.
After sitting down without a word, the king finally spoke.
"I believe congratulations are in order. Having another child so late is difficult."
Trisha and Braster weren't that old, actually. Braster was just over forty years old, while Trisha hadn't even hit that benchmark yet. Compared to the King, who still sired children at the age of fifty, this was nothing.
Still, mother and father have been trying for nearly two decades to have another.
"Thank you. It has been difficult, but we are both overjoyed."
Braster reached over and held Trisha's hand.
"It was a joyous occasion when I found out. Not even morning sickness could dour my mood."
The king nodded as he cut into his meal. Princess Anne spoke with enthusiasm, letting out emotions she had been holding back thus far.
"Do you think it will be a boy or a girl? I think a little girl with such striking blue eyes would be adorable!"
The first prince was the one to respond, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"They won't know for some time. There are a few ways to determine gender before birth, but it is still too early to tell."
Braster confirmed the prince's words.
"That is true. Trisha and I prefer not to know until it arrives, however."
The king made a gesture.
"Another son would be a boon."
"But father, they already have a son nearly of marrying age. Bellavarn can take over the household in a year. A daughter would be so much better."
Tristan glared at Anne, who continued to monopolize the conversation. No one else seemed overly bothered by her questions—a privilege of being the youngest and constantly curious.
"Don't be rude, Anne."
Anne spoke anyway, regardless of Tristan's chastizing.
"What do you think it will be, Duchess?"
"Oh, my. I couldn't bring myself to guess."
The Duchess put a hand to her face and smiled, tilting her head.
"It'd be nice to have a little sister. What are your thoughts, Bellavarn?"
Attention turned all at once. Bellavarn paused in cutting his steak.
"I would be grateful for either. Mother and Father wanted another child for so long that it no longer matters to me which."
"Are you sure? Even if it is a boy? You will have competition for the title of Duke."
Bellavarn actually chuckled out loud a bit. Anne looked taken aback before he elaborated.
"If my brother decides one day he wishes to lead the household, I will support him the entire way. Even if the baby was a girl, I'd support her wishes. That's the role of an older sibling, is it not?"
Braster let himself smile openly while Trisha held in her laughter. They were already blessed to have a good-natured child such as Bellavarn.
Anne oohed in admiration at his response, then picked at her food in thought.
Prince Tristan decided to rain on the parade.
"Succession is a serious matter for a dukedom. The quality of character cannot be in question. Like having an aggressive appetite for the fairer sex."
The air hung still. The atmosphere becoming chilly.
Prince Kly looked straight at Bellavarn and nonchalantly clarified Tristan's words.
"I heard he assaulted a maid in his own employ."
Bellavarn removed his arms from the table to hide his shaking hands.
"Is that true? I only remember you saying he had amnesia and acted out."
Anne appeared appalled as she looked at her older brothers. The King looked unamused at gossip being brought up at the dinner table, but his silence in allowing such slander to occur at dinner was louder than anything his children had to say.
It was clear that the three royal heirs planned this. Nobles, especially high nobles, never bring up topics needlessly. This was intended to demean them and remind the Sallows that their place was inferior to that of the Lionels and would always remain so.
Still, Bellavarn reached a hand over to calm his mother. It wasn't about him any longer. This was an attack on the family. As a Sallow, he had a duty.
"That maid is no longer in our employ after having lied and fabricated evidence. Going as far as to injure herself in her blackmail attempt."
Tristan looked irritated at Bellavarn's quick wittedness, and Anne hid a smile. Princess Lecil ate in silence, ignored by all. The second prince spoke flatly.
"Why does the maid still live? She was escorted to the border in luxury."
"Not to mention that Lord Bellavarn locked himself away from the public. Is that not proof of guilt?"
Trisha squeezed Bellavarn's hand with enough force to crack a knuckle. Bellavarn was determined to stop this before she let her aura loose or his father's curse destroyed the entire room. Regardless of his own feelings, Bellavarn Sallow was the son of a Duke. He knew how to play their games.
"Watch your words, Prince, you speak of matters you do not understand."
Anne gasped aloud at Bellavarn's audacity. Tristan seemed like he wanted to lurch across the table, but maybe it was Kly's unconcerned façade that kept him back. The only saving grace was that the first princess seemed uninterested. Glancing briefly in her direction, his eyes almost gave away his surprise.
He continued seamlessly.
"The maid was given severance pay and escorted away as she was no longer wanted on our lands. As to myself, I spent time growing our library and researching magic theory and engineering. I was hypothesizing several ways to upgrade different magical tools the Kingdom uses. Including our standardized weapons."
The king raised an intrigued eyebrow. Even his parents seemed taken aback. He wanted to wink at them.
"Is that so?"
The King finally broke his silence.
With the king interested, the others were forced to accept Bellavarn's previous words without rebuttal.
"Yes, your majesty. Improving upon standard-issue magical weapons is a tall order, but I believe there are subtle ways to increase magic efficiency."
Tristan glared at him with open hostility. It took all of Bellavarn's willpower not to laugh in his face.
King Lionel tapped a finger on the table.
"Tell me more."
The rest of dinner consisted of Bellavarn chatting up a few ideas he had. All conceptual, and most of them are not even plausible. But the king seemed impressed and placated. He said he would accept any ideas once they were more concrete and actionable.
After that, the discussion turned to more harmless topics. The latest trends and pains of governance.
Dinner concluded on an uneventful note. The King was the first to leave. Rooms were prepared for the Sallows to spend the night before returning home. As everyone else left the dining hall, Bellavarn took a moment to approach the first princess. She remained entirely silent throughout the meal and was ignored by all, but Bellavarn had to answer the lingering question that itched the back of his mind.
"Princess Lecil."
The princess half turned. Bellavarn caught up and bowed slightly, introducing himself.
"We haven't had the chance to speak yet. I wanted to introduce myself formally. I am Bellavarn Sallow, son to Duke Braster Sallow."
The princess's gaze was blank, though it was different from Prince Kly's. He seemed to hold back his feelings and emotions. Princess Lecil… it was like there was nothing behind her eyes.
She bobbed her head lightly.
"Nice to meet you. If there's nothing else."
Bellavarn took a chance and reached for her wrist before she walked away. She paused and turned back to look at him. Quickly, he let go.
"My apologies. I couldn't stop myself."
Bellavarn spent the latter half of dinner thinking of how to bring this up. There were no right words. So Bellavarn spoke from his heart.
"Please don't hurt yourself."
For a moment.
Something surfaced in her eyes.
It vanished just as quickly.
The princess turned away. She traveled down the dark hallways like a specter disappearing into the night.
Bellavarn couldn't stop her twice.
"Did you happen to see?"
"See what?"
His mother gave him a worried look.
"I have a suspicion. No, a certainty. Can I ask for your help?"
"Of course you can. What do you need?"
Bellavarn glanced back over his shoulder.
"Can you buy me a moment?"