They arrived. Bellavarn felt more nervous than when he asked his boss for a raise.

Ah. That was Bellavarn. Not me. Or it is me, but... ah, screw it.

Both of them hated this place.

Kly opened the doors.

The dining room was grand—such an inefficient word.

The ceiling towered overhead, and there was enough floor space to hold a ball. The long dining table in the center of the room that could serve two dozen felt minuscule in the vast space. The walls was decorated richly with more art and shiny colors.

Compared to the outside, this place felt way too gaudy.

The King was already seated at the head of the table. Black hair turned entirely gray. His face lined with age sported an eternal grimace. He wore fitting black clothes colored with a royal purple. Thankfully there was no cape.

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 opened and a figure walked in.

Princess Lecil walked in. Long, straight black hair unfurled, complimented by a dark navy blue dress covering every inch of skin up to her neck. There was a lot less plush to her outfit compared the the pink of the Princess Anne.

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 differences between the two princesses were striking.

As she walked to the table and sat in silence, 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 rue. 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 age. Bellavarn can take over the household in a year. A daughter would be so much better."

"Don't be rude, Anne."

That was Kly. Anne pouted a bit but spoke again.

"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. There was an odd superstition that if the mother guessed and it was wrong, they would lose the child. It was baseless, but it still held some sway.

"Ah, I forget myself. Well then, what are your thoughts Bellavarn?"

Attention turned all at once. Bellavarn paused in cutting his steak. He thought for a moment. Did it matter?

"I would be grateful for either. Mother and Father wanted another for so long that it no longer matters to me which."

"Oh? Even if it is a boy? You will have competition for the title of Duke."

Tristan looked at Anne who continued to be insensitive. None of the royal family seemed overly bothered by her questions—a privilege of being the youngest and constantly curious.

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 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, however.

"Succession is a serious matter, no matter the house. I heard a nasty rumor about how the Duke's son can lose his temper."

Everyone paused in eating, the atmosphere becoming chilly. Kly looked straight at Bellavarn with a flat expression. His eyes twinkling.

"I heard he assaulted a maid in his own employ."

Bellavarn had to control himself to prevent from shaking with emotion. It was only a month ago, yet, the event still hurt him. Bellavarn bemoaned as the rumor spreading all the way to the palace.

"Is that true? I only remember you saying he had amnesia and acted out."

Anne appeared appalled as she looked to her older brothers. The King looked unamused at gossip being brought up at the dinner table but didn't stop it either.

Bellavarn could feel the tenseness in his shoulders, his mother's regret at the events, and his father's silent anger at this being brought up. It was clear the three planned this. Nobles, especially high nobles, never bring up topics needlessly. This was meant to demean them and remind the Sallows that their place was below the Lionels and would always remain so.

Still, Bellavarn reached a hand over to his mother underneath the table. Stabilizing himself and her. It wasn't about him any longer. This was an attack on the family. As a Sallow, he needed to defend their honor.

Speaking with clarity and confidence, he defended himself.

"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.

"Then why does the maid still live? She was escorted to the border and even paid handsomely."

Curse royals and their sources. Intrigue and gossip nutcases.

"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 her father's curse acted up. There were times when Bellavarn felt there should be some guilt on his part, even if the reason he hid away was because of a broken heart. Regardless of his feelings, Bellavarn 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 facade kept him back. The only saving grace was that the first princess seemed uninterested. Glancing briefly in her direction, his eyes threatened to widen. Managing to reign himself in, no one saw 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 the family library and researching magic theory and engineering. I was thinking; there are ways to upgrade several magical tools the Kingdom uses. Including the standardized weapons."

The king raised an intrigued eyebrow. Even his parents were unsuspecting. He wanted to wink at them.

"Is that so?"

Success.

Bellavarn gave plausible reasons and diverted attention away from the previous topic. With the king interested, the others were forced to accept Bellavarn's previous words.

"Yes, your majesty. They are still in the idea phase, and 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 Francis only 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 not even plausible. But the king seemed slightly impressed anyway. He said he would support any ideas once they were more concrete and actionable.

After that, the discussion turned to more benign 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 meal and wasn't even looked at by her siblings.

"Princess Lecil."

The princess stopped as she was about to walk away and 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' 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. Then..."

Bellavarn took a chance and grabbed her wrist before she walked away. She paused and turned back to look at him. Quickly, he let go.

"Apologies, princess, but..."

He hesitated a moment. Was what he saw real? A trick of the eyes? He only had a second to see it during dinner, but he recognized it for what it was.

If he was wrong, it was a great insult.

If he was right...

The implications were enormous.

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."

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 dissapearing into the night.

Bellavarn couldn't stop her twice.

=

"Mother, where are Henry and Kerv?"

Bellavarn pulled aside his mother as they walked. Braster occupied the servant who escorted them.

"They should be waiting outside our rooms. Why?"

"Did you happen to see?"

"See what?"

His mother gave him a worried look as they walked arm in arm.

"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.

"Then..."