The banquet hall of Arathia glittered with chandeliers, gold trim, and the hum of noble voices. Servants moved gracefully, musicians played softly, and the guests whispered about the same thing:
"The Crown Prince turns seven today."
At the center table, however, the Crown Prince was not paying attention to any of that.
Adrian Leonhart sat with a small plate in front of him—steam rising, spices swirling through the air.
He lifted his spoon slowly.
Curry. His masterpiece. His pride. His comfort food.
He took a bite—
And his eyes softened like the world became perfect.
Rex, his lion cub, lay curled beside his chair, tail tapping happily from the smell.
Adrian whispered to himself, "Finally… curry again. I waited so long."
He set down the spoon, and his mind drifted.
Flashback — Two Months Ago
The royal kitchen was chaos.
Chefs screamed. Pots clanged. Steam rose everywhere.
In the middle of all that stood a six-year-old boy with a tiny apron tied around his waist.
Adrian pointed at a pot.
"Not that one. Use the deeper one. It keeps heat longer."
The head chef blinked. "Y-Your Highness, may I ask—how do you know that?"
"Well…" Adrian didn't want to say past life cooking video binge.
So he coughed. "Instinct."
The chefs exchanged looks.
Adrian continued like a commander on a battlefield.
"Okay, now add onions. No, no—brown them first. Don't let them burn. And garlic after that. Then tomatoes. Then the spices."
The kitchen froze.
"Spices…? Which ones, Your Highness?"
Adrian held up a handwritten list.
"Everything here. And don't panic, it's supposed to smell strong."
One chef hesitated. "I'm afraid we've never cooked something like—"
"Just trust me."
They trusted him.
Thirty minutes later, the kitchen filled with a warm, deep aroma that none of them had ever smelled before. Chefs leaned over the pot, eyes shining.
"Your Highness… this is…"
"A curry," Adrian said proudly. "My recipe."
"But it— it tastes incredible!"
Adrian smirked slightly. "Of course. I made it."
The chef bowed deeply. "Then we must serve this at the banquet someday."
Adrian's eyes widened with excitement.
"Yes! Please! I want it for my birthday."
Back to the Present
Now, two months later, Adrian sat at his banquet table, savoring it like a king savoring victory.
He sighed happily.
"Worth the wait."
He took another big spoonful—
—until a shadow fell over him.
A cold, mocking voice interrupted:
"What are you eating?"
Adrian didn't bother looking up at first.
"Food."
"A strange choice for royalty," the voice sneered. "It looks like something peasants scrape off the bottom of a pot."
Adrian looked up now.
Cedric von Halden.
7 years old.
Smug, polished, son of Marquis Halden.
Hair slicked. Eyes sharp. A walking definition of "I'm richer than you."
Adrian blinked. "…Cedric?"
Cedric smirked. "I never thought I'd see the Crown Prince of Arathia eating… whatever that is."
Adrian stared at him for a moment.
Then took another big spoon of curry with exaggerated satisfaction.
"Mmm. Delicious."
Cedric's eye twitched.
The nobles nearby began whispering.
"Cedric approached him."
"What is he saying?"
"Is he provoking the prince?"
"But the prince is so calm…"
"Is that food really that good?"
Cedric leaned forward, voice dripping arrogance.
"You should be eating proper dishes. Meat glazed in golden wine. Not… poor street food."
Adrian sighed.
"First of all, this is not street food. Second, it's not poor. Third, I made this recipe."
The surrounding nobles froze mid-sip.
Cedric blinked. "You… made it?"
Adrian nodded cheerfully. "Yep."
Cedric stared at the curry, horrified. "You mean to tell me you made something that looks like mud?"
Rex growled under the table.
Adrian tilted his head.
"You know, Cedric, you don't have to like it. But insulting food you've never tried is just—"
"What?" Cedric snorted. "Unrefined?"
Adrian smiled innocently.
"No. Just stupid."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Cedric's face turned red instantly. "Y-You dare—!"
Adrian scooped up another spoonful.
"You insulted my food first."
"That— Because it's— it's embarrassing for a prince to eat commoner trash!"
Adrian shrugged.
"Then don't look."
Cedric stomped. "This isn't the behavior of royalty!"
Adrian finally stood up, holding his plate with one hand.
"I think royalty is allowed to enjoy good food. You should try it before judging."
Cedric crossed his arms. "I would never lower myself to taste—"
Adrian held out a spoon.
Cedric froze.
The nobles leaned in closer.
"He's offering it to Cedric…"
"Will Cedric refuse?"
"If he refuses, he'll look childish."
"If he accepts, he must admit the prince might be right."
Cedric clenched his fists.
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
"What? Scared?"
Cedric's pride cracked.
"I'm not scared!"
"Then take a bite."
Cedric hesitated, then grabbed the spoon and shoved the curry into his mouth.
He froze.
Adrian blinked. "Well?"
Cedric's eyes twitched.
His cheeks puffed.
He struggled not to show expression.
Adrian leaned closer.
"…It's good, isn't it?"
Cedric refused to answer.
"It's spicy, but warm, right?"
Cedric looked away.
"It has depth and flavor—"
"F-Fine!" Cedric snapped. "It's… acceptable!"
Adrian laughed softly.
Cedric shoved the spoon back at him. "But I still think it looks ugly."
Adrian shrugged. "It doesn't need to look good to taste amazing."
Cedric clicked his tongue and stormed away, cheeks slightly red.
The nobles burst into murmured chatter.
"The prince stayed calm…"
"He handled that well."
"He didn't shout or lose temper."
"He even made Cedric admit it was good!"
"The Crown Prince is… impressive."
Adrian sighed and sat back down, smiling as he scooped more curry.
Rex climbed onto his lap, sniffing the plate.
"No, Rex. Not for you."
Rex whined.
Adrian chuckled softly.
"Fine. A tiny bit."
Rex wagged his tail happily.
The banquet continued, but the mood had changed. People whispered not about Cedric's insult—
—but about the boy prince who stood his ground with a spoon and a smile.
And Adrian?
He just kept eating, happy and content.
Yesterday Flashback
The night before the banquet was quiet inside the royal dining room, lit by warm crystal lamps that washed everything in a gentle glow. Adrian sat swinging his legs under the table, waiting as servants placed dishes in front of the royal family.
Leon, his father, ate calmly—as calmly as a man could while stealing fond glances at his son. Celestia, elegant as always, smiled at how Adrian's ears perked up every time food arrived.
Halfway through the meal, Leon spoke.
"Adrian," he said, voice holding a hint of mischief, "do you know what tomorrow is?"
Adrian blinked, fork in midair.
"…Is it pancake day?"
Celestia laughed softly. Leon shook his head.
"No, son. It's your birthday."
Adrian's eyes widened. "MY BIRTHDAY?!"
The fork dropped, clattering against the plate. Adrian jumped in his seat, almost knocking it over.
Celestia reached out to steady him. "Careful, sweetheart."
Adrian didn't even hear her—he was already lost in his thoughts, vibrating with excitement.
Tomorrow I'll be seven! Then I'll grow even stronger… and then I can protect my family!
He puffed out his tiny chest, determination blazing.
Leon ruffled his hair, smiling warmly. "We'll hold a banquet for you. All the high nobles will attend."
Adrian nodded so hard he looked like a bobbing duck.
Banquet… that means food.
And the idea hit him.
CURRY! I want curry!