While Monsieur Julian and his team were working like a frenzied beehive in the palace kitchens, I decided that food wasn't the only thing worth paying attention to. If I was going to live in this world, I would live it in the best way possible.
First—clothes. My wardrobe was already filled with luxurious garments, but they reflected Nier's original taste—dark colors, formal designs, and fabrics that screamed of restrained wealth. I wanted something different. Something that reflected my new self.
I summoned the palace's head tailor, an old man named Master Elias, with half-moon spectacles perched at the tip of his nose and sharp eyes that inspected every inch of fabric with meticulous care.
"Master Elias," I said, standing before him, "I want to renew my wardrobe."
"Of course, young master," he replied in a calm, steady voice. "Do you have any particular ideas regarding style or fabrics?"
"I want clothes that are both practical and elegant. Strong fabrics, but comfortable. Jackets I can move freely in, yet ones that retain a certain dignity. Think of dragonhide treated to be as soft as silk, yet still preserving some of its protective qualities. Think of giant spider silk, said to be stronger than steel yet as light as a feather. I want dark colors, yes, but with fine details of silver or black gold. And I want linings made of snow leopard fur, to keep me warm on cold winter nights."
Master Elias listened intently, his thin hands moving lightly as if sketching designs in the air. "Treated dragonhide… spider silk… snow leopard fur… these are extremely rare and costly materials, young master."
"Price is not an issue," I repeated my new favorite phrase. "I also want some cloaks. A cloak woven from threads of shadow, the kind that lets its wearer merge with the darkness. And another, resistant to magic, made from the hide of the legendary salamander, lined with scales of a water nymph."
"A cloak of shadow threads…" Master Elias murmured, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "That is quite a challenge, my lord. It requires specialized weavers and unique enchantments."
"I'm confident you'll find them," I said firmly. "Take my measurements. I want the prototypes ready within a week."
He spent the next half hour carefully measuring me, muttering numbers and notes to himself. He worked silently, professionally, without unnecessary questions. That was what I appreciated about the servants of House Verton—efficiency and discretion.
Once the tailor was done, I turned my thoughts elsewhere—my room. It was already grand, but it lacked the personal touches that reflected me, not the original Nier.
I summoned the palace's head interior designer, a middle-aged woman named Lady Armand, with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes. She was renowned for her refined taste and her ability to transform any space into a masterpiece.
"Lady Armand," I said, gesturing at the vast chamber, "I want some changes here."
"I'm listening, young master," she replied, her voice soft and musical.
"First, the bedding. I want a mattress stuffed with the pure feathers of a griffin, covered with sheets of moon silk—the kind woven only under a full moon. The pillows should be filled with down from snow lotus blossoms, said to bring peaceful dreams."
"An excellent choice, my lord," Lady Armand remarked, scribbling notes in her leather notebook.
"I also want new lighting. These crystal chandeliers are beautiful, but far too traditional. I want lamps crafted from glowing cave crystals, the kind that emit soft, shifting colors. And I want a hearth that never goes out, burning enchanted wood that releases a faint fragrance of pine and amber."
"An eternal hearth… crystal lamps… intriguing."
"And on the walls," I continued, "instead of these dark oil portraits of my gloomy ancestors, I want maps. Detailed maps of the world, showing both known and unknown continents, deep seas, towering mountains. I want a celestial chart depicting constellations, planets, and distant galaxies. These maps should be painted on the hides of mythical beasts, adorned with gemstones marking important places."
"Cosmic maps… a bold idea, young master. It will give the room a spirit of exploration and adventure."
"And finally, I want a private library in that corner," I pointed to an empty space. "Shelves made of blackheart wood, filled with rare books and ancient manuscripts. Tomes on dark magic, the history of noble houses, beast legends, and forgotten martial arts. This library should be my personal sanctuary of knowledge."
Lady Armand studied me, a faint smile curling her lips. "Young master Nier, it seems you have a unique and fascinating taste. I shall begin designing these changes at once. It will be a masterpiece that reflects your new self."
"I expect nothing less," I replied.
I spent the rest of the afternoon imagining how my new life would look with all these luxuries. It wasn't about vanity or meaningless extravagance. It was about making up for years of deprivation in my past life. About asserting my existence in this new world, and savoring everything it had to offer. If fate had thrown me into the body of the duke's most powerful heir, why shouldn't I take full advantage?
By evening, my quarters had transformed. The décor changes hadn't begun yet, of course, but a massive dining table had been set in the center of the room, covered in a pure white silk cloth, adorned with gleaming silver and gold utensils, and crystal goblets breathtaking in their beauty.
When Monsieur Julian entered, followed by a procession of servants carrying covered dishes, my heart beat with genuine anticipation.
"Young master," Julian announced proudly, "your feast is ready."
The servants lifted the silver covers one by one, and fragrant clouds of steam filled the room with aromas unlike anything I had ever smelled before.
There was a colossal cut of young red dragon steak, roasted to perfection, its surface browned and crisp, its inside pink and juicy. Its scent alone made my mouth water.
Beside it, a dish of griffin liver, small golden pieces glistening under the light, garnished with thin slices of black truffle and swimming in a rich amber-colored sauce.
A roasted young phoenix, its golden skin shimmering like artwork, exuding aromas of herbs and sweet spices.
A giant lobster, its scarlet shell hiding pure white flesh, served with slices of black lemon like scattered jewels.
Golden caviar, glittering pearls like scattered stars, presented on a bed of ice with thin, translucent wafers of bread.
There were also side dishes of rare vegetables, each cooked in a unique way, each looking like a piece of art on its own. Baskets overflowing with exotic fruits, vivid in color and strange in shape.
And the drinks—poured into crystal decanters, each glowing with a different hue. Dragon's blood wine, deep crimson and heavy. Elixir of life, radiant gold. Moon spring water, pure silver and clear.
I sat at the table, feeling like a mythical king about to enjoy an immortal banquet.
"Begin serving," I said softly, barely containing my excitement.
The servants began placing small portions of each dish onto my golden plate. I started with the dragon steak. The knife cut through it effortlessly. I placed a small piece in my mouth.
Oh, my god.
Nothing in my previous life—not even in my wildest fantasies—could describe this taste. The meat was so tender it melted on my tongue, its flavor rich and complex, carrying a faint smokiness of oakwood, with a touch of natural sweetness I had never experienced before. Each bite was an explosion of flavors dancing on my tongue.
Then came the griffin liver. Creamy and smooth, dissolving in my mouth with a velvety richness, deepened by the earthy black truffle, while the sauce added a perfect balance of sweetness and tang.
The phoenix meat was white and delicate, infused with flavors of herbs and fruits, its crispy skin a delicacy of its own.
The lobster was sweet and firm, perfectly balanced with the acidity of the black lemon and the briny taste of sea herbs.
And the golden caviar—each pearl bursting lightly in my mouth, releasing a refreshing sea-kissed flavor, just salty enough to leave me craving more.
I ate slowly, savoring each bite, each taste, each aroma. I drank dragon's blood wine, strong and deep, carrying echoes of fire and power. Then I tried the elixir of life, which coursed through my veins as a warm energy, erasing all fatigue and renewing my vitality. Finally, the moon spring water, pure and refreshing, cleansing my palate and readying me for more.
I dined alone, in silence, surrounded by servants moving with grace and efficiency, refilling my glass, replacing my plates. I didn't feel lonely. I felt satisfied. In control. Powerful.
This—this was what it meant to be Nier Verton. Not the quiet, perfect boy portrayed in the novel. But someone who could summon the grandest feast in the world, and have it served to him without question.
The feast lasted for hours. I tasted every dish, every fruit, every drink. I wasn't eating out of hunger—I was exploring. Indulging in a sensory experience I could never have dreamed of.
At last, when I could eat no more, I leaned back in my chair, gazing at the remains of the legendary banquet.
"Monsieur Julian," I said when the chef entered again, his face glowing with pride and expectation, "you have exceeded every expectation. This was the finest meal I've ever had in my life."
The chef beamed and bowed deeply. "Thank you, young master. It is the greatest honor of my life."
"From now on," I said, rising from the table, my limbs heavy in a pleasant way, "I want my meals always to be at this level of quality and creativity. Do not hesitate to experiment with new recipes or use the rarest ingredients. Your budget is open."
"At once, young master!" Julian replied with renewed enthusiasm.
I returned to my luxurious bed, feeling changed. It wasn't the food itself that had transformed me, but the experience. The experience of power. Of indulgence. Of desire fulfilled.
I closed my eyes, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "Ayla… Nier the romantic… the Duke of Shadows… political conspiracies… all of that can wait."
Tonight, I was simply Nier Verton, the wealthy son who decided to enjoy his life. Tomorrow… tomorrow I would see what this mad world had in store. But I would face it with a full stomach and a high spirit.
And perhaps, just perhaps, I would ask Master Elias to design me a light armor of spider silk, inlaid with dragon scales. For protection, of course. Never for showing off.
The laugh that escaped me was quiet, but genuine. A good beginning. A very good beginning.