The villa's grand dining hall glowed with golden light. Chandeliers swayed gently above a long mahogany table already prepared with gleaming silverware, wine bottles glinting, and an array of dishes steaming under silver lids. Servants moved swiftly, placing the last of the roasted meats and delicacies as the group entered.
Lux, ever the gentleman host, guided Elreth to the head of the table, opposite himself, while Azalea and Khione naturally settled beside her. The boys took their seats opposite the three, forming a clean line of unspoken rivalries and alliances across the table.
Blake slumped into his chair as though dragged by chains, chin already propped on his palm.
"Wake me up when the food comes," he mumbled.
"You'll choke before you even taste anything if you doze off like that," Adam muttered, rolling his eyes.
The princess arched a brow but said nothing, though the faintest smirk tugged her lips. She had expected Blake's laziness—it was practically his trademark.
