The Duke was eating in a slow, dignified manner ,every movement deliberate, precise. It was a display of noble breeding, one that somehow made even the simplest food seem exquisite. The blindfold over his eyes didn't seem to hinder him in the slightest; he moved as though he could see perfectly well.
He sat across from the duke, trying to look normal and clearly failing.
He wasn't sure how one was supposed to behave after falling asleep while waiting for a duke.
The Duke, for his part, didn't acknowledge the disaster. He simply ate, calm. He suspected this was a form of mercy… or maybe the man really couldn't be bothered.
The silence stretched and he just sat there.
The Duke paused, his spoon halting mid-air.
He froze.
"Bring him food," the Duke said, voice low and steady.
A plate was set in front of him: bread, fruit, and a bowl of fragrant broth.
He ate quietly.
Once, he glanced up, and found the Duke's blindfolded face angled in his direction, unreadable.
"You'll begin teaching next term."
The words landed softly and he immediately lost his appetite.
"…Teaching?" he echoed.
The duke set aside his plate. "At Imre School of Magic. It's customary. A future consort contributes to the institution, symbolically, if nothing else."
Symbolically, he repeated
"I wasn't aware," he said slowly, "that my… academic talents were known."
Yes Circe was a teacher.
A faint smile touched the duke's mouth its felt mocking.
"You underestimate yourself," he said. "You'll be instructing first-years. Theory. Ethics. The softer disciplines."
He calmed down and looked straight at the duke.
"My lord," he said carefully, "Imre is not a common school like the ones I've taught in."
"No," the duke agreed. "It isn't."
"I've barely learnt etiquette will I be able to teach nobles."
"You will learn as you move alittle pressure is good,"
He placed his spoon down and folded his hands so that they wouldn't shake. Not a bone in me can teach, he thought. This is going to be hard.
"I've never lectured," he said.
It was true Circe was a teacher yes but he only taught the young ones in the village.
"You've advised generals,"
An exaggeration all Circe did was inform the of a flood ahead.
. "Negotiated with covens,"
He had no choice since he was a half blood.
The duke rose, moving closer. Power hummed very present, pressing down like gravity.
"Don't worry," he said. "Few will disrespect the prince's consort."
He swallowed.
The duke studied him for a moment longer than necessary, as though looking through him rather than at him.
He inclined his head, the gesture flawless. "Then I will prepare."
As the duke left, he allowed himone silent, private breath of panic.
After breakfast, no one told him where to go.
He was simply… left. In the hall. Alone.
He tried walking around. Servants passed by him without acknowledging his existence. When he asked one which direction led to the greenhouse, the man blinked, muttered "Ah,excuse me, my lord, I must attend to something," and hurried off like Circe had threatened to hex him.
It wasn't hostility.
He cheered himself up, he could stroll, explore observe magical plants. That sounded productive.
Except the Arsia wing's door wouldn't open. A barrier shimmered subtly, repelling him.
"Huh."
He poked it again. Same result. Breaking it would alert the owner.
He tried the courtyard next. Magical beasts paced behind enchanted fences creatures with horns of crystal, scales shimmering like metal.
He approached one of the fences. A guard glanced up, then returned to polishing his spear.
"Can I?"
"No."
"I didn't even finish the question."
"No."
He stared at him for a long moment, then turned away.
By noon, no one fetched him for lunch.
He wandered until he found a window seat overlooking a frozen garden. He sat there, hugging his knees, watching snowflakes drift lazily. The castle was beautiful.
He dosed off while looking at the scenery.
A rustle snapped him awake.
The Duke stood a few steps away.
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He scrambled to sit properly, praying he did not drool.
The Duke tilted his head slightly. "You weren't at lunch."
He swallowed. "I wasn't… told where to go."
A beat of silence.
Then unexpectedly, so subtly it might've been imagined, the Duke's lips curved. Not a smile, but close.
"You may eat in the central hall from today onward," he said. "If they fail to prepare your meals, inform me."
He spoke like someone reciting a book Calm, monotone.
Yet his chest tightened for no reason at all.
The Duke added, quietly, "You are a royal consort remember that, do not let those beneath you treat you with no respect"
He blinked at him.
That… sounded almost considerate.
The Duke nodded once and left.
He stared after him, expression still blank.