In the great hall, Ludleth and his mother took their seats in the two empty chairs on the right side of the long dining table.
Once seated, they found themselves across from Moron, who was no longer wearing his training attire. Now, he wore a dark uniform with sharp, functional cuts something between a tunic and a soldier's dress coat. Pinned to his chest was a steel brooch in the shape of a rearing stag, the emblem of his first military unit.
Beside him sat a beautiful woman with long chestnut hair. Her back was perfectly straight, her neck as slender and graceful as a swan carved from ivory. She wore a midnight blue gown with silver embroidery that shimmered like galaxies matching her striking green eyes. Her bodice was rigid, as though it were holding in her very breath.
When the woman saw Anna, she gave her a small nod of acknowledgment.
Anna returned it with a brief, faint smile.
To their right, near the head of the table, sat a young boy with jet-black hair that hung straight across his forehead too long for the King's liking, though still tolerated. He wore a fitted dark waistcoat, clearly tailored for a frame still growing, and black trousers tucked neatly into polished boots.
Next to him sat a woman with long black hair, onyx eyes, and skin pale as fresh snow. Her beauty was breathtaking. She wore a deep wine-colored dress with wide, flowing sleeves. The fabric was luxurious, with a subtle Eastern pattern and coppery sheen, wrapping around her curves with more confidence than modesty.
Once the King saw that everyone had arrived, he silently raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
At that signal, all the servants in the room began to move toward a side door. They returned seconds later, carrying silver platters, each covered with a dome to preserve the warmth of the food.
Each servant placed a platter before one of the seated guests. Meanwhile, others laid out ten spoons, five forks, and three knives of varying lengths in front of each person with precise, rehearsed movements.
Once this was done, the servants returned to their original positions except for one per guest, who remained standing silently behind them, eyes on the King.
The King gave a small nod.
At once, the servants lifted the silver lids, revealing steaming bowls of soup that smelled freshly made and rich in flavor.
Then they stepped back. The King took the third spoon from his right, gently skimmed the soup from the outer edge inward, and brought it to his lips.
Only then did the rest of the table begin to eat.
Ludleth ate calmly, his eyes gliding over the rest of his family at the table without lingering too long he knew better than to be caught staring. It was useless to rush; the meal would take its time.
Dinners in the royal palace were always quiet, governed by a single rule: no one spoke before the King.
Especially the princes.
Unless directly addressed, they were to remain silent. The queens, as the King's wives, had more freedom, but even they observed the rule with care.
If someone were to ask Ludleth what kind of relationship he had with his father, he would have answered, "Not a good one."
There were many reasons, but three stood out the most.
First: his lack of talent.
Second: his father, being the King, had little time to spend with his children but when he did, it was always with Moron, teaching him aura techniques or discussing matters of governance. Understandable, perhaps, since Moron was the heir. Ludleth was simply… not.
And third: when he was little, Ludleth had broken many royal protocols just to spend a bit more time with his father something that had only soured the King's opinion of him further.
Because of this, Ludleth believed his father saw him in a poor light, even if the man never showed it outright.
As he slowly ate his soup, Ludleth's mind began to wander. And when it did, he started to notice things.
'Strange… Even though our world has magic, I see many similarities with the Ancien Régime.'
Ludleth's mind wandered again as he idly stirred the remaining soup in his bowl. Though he hadn't been a historian in his past life, he knew enough to spot the parallels between the governmental system of France before the Revolution and that of Astror.
'Nobility, clergy, and the third estate. This must be the true nature of humanity we tend to organize ourselves into rigid categories just to escape chaos.'
'Maybe that English philosopher was right after all… man is nothing but a selfish beast, driven by survival instinct. Without an absolute state to impose order, it would be war every man against every man.'
What he found most surprising was how, even in entirely different worlds, people often arrived at the same solutions. Perhaps it wasn't so strange. In a multiverse filled with infinite worlds, it was only natural that many of them would independently develop similar systems.
Still, despite the familiar structure, Ludleth wasn't afraid that Astror would meet the same fate as the French monarchy. Yes, both governments were similar but the circumstances were vastly different. After all, it was circumstance that had allowed Louis XIV to create an absolute monarchy in France, while James II in England had failed utterly when he tried the same.
In Astror, those circumstances were even more decisive.
Their king wasn't merely a head of state he was also the most powerful warrior in the kingdom.
But these thoughts made Ludleth notice something he had never questioned before. In Astror, there was no such thing as a "queen." In fact, the concept itself felt foreign to him. All of his father's wives no matter their status or seniority were referred to only as consorts.
He had never found that strange before. To him, it had always been that way. But the memories of his past life had shifted his perspective. Now, it seemed odd.
Maybe it was just a tradition unique to his kingdom. But he hadn't found anything about it in the library.
He made a mental note to look into it later.
As he pulled himself out of his train of thought, Ludleth suddenly noticed that everyone else had already finished their soup. Meanwhile, he had barely made it halfway through his bowl.
Everyone was watching him.
Embarrassment crept up his spine, cold and prickling. He quickly began to eat faster, trying not to look like he was rushing. Just a noble boy enjoying his meal… only a little quicker than usual.
He chanced a glance at his father.
The King looked at him with that same stoic expression, unreadable as stone. No frown, no scowl nothing.
What had he expected?
Crushed by the weight of silent judgment, Ludleth quickened his pace again, all while trying to maintain his noble etiquette.
Then, he looked toward his mother.
Anna was watching him with that gentle gaze of hers calm, reassuring. Her eyes said, Take your time. Don't rush for anyone's sake.
That look was a lifeline.
Ludleth slowed down, and ate the rest of his soup at his own rhythm. It took five more minutes five long minutes that felt like an eternity but he finished it.
It had felt like torture, and at that moment he would have given anything to find a tree to hide behind and disappear. But he was a prince. He had been trained from a young age to endure moments like this without breaking.
Just as he set down his spoon, the King snapped his fingers again.
Servants swiftly stepped forward, removing the empty bowls and platters before disappearing once more through the side doors.
But this time… they didn't return.
Not yet.
It was as if they were waiting for something.
At that moment, the King began to speak.
"Moron."
"Majesty,"
"Your day?"
"I trained the new guards. There are a few promising recruits among this batch."
The King gave a small nod, satisfied with the answer.
"And your personal strength?"
"My Aura has increased by twenty percent, thanks to the new weighted training regimen."
A flash of approval passed through the King's eyes brief, almost imperceptible.
Then, his gaze shifted to Ludleth.
"I heard you fell off your horse."
"Yes, Majesty."
"I presume you've recovered?"
"According to the healer, I should make a full recovery in two days."
The King closed his eyes for a moment, thoughtful, before reopening them.
"How are your preparations for your trial progressing?"
Ludleth froze.
The tension in the room seemed to thicken around him.
"Not very well, sire… Unfortunately, my Aura is still too low, and I haven't started my mana lessons yet."
The King sighed.
"Your brother completed the dungeon in record time."
"You, on the other hand, would be lucky not to die in your current condition. Train harder, and do not bring shame upon this family."
Ludleth swallowed the lump rising in his throat.
He had heard those words before. Many times.
Especially whenever the Rite of Passage was brought up the sacred trial that marked the transition into adulthood. A trial not everyone survived.
And in the eyes of his father, he was far from ready.
In his kingdom, there were three dates that held great importance in the life of a noble.
The third birthday marked the celebration of having survived early childhood a triumph over infant mortality. It was considered the true first birthday.
The seventh birthday marked the transition from childhood to adolescence. To complete the rite, one was expected to slay a beast from a dungeon usually one prepared and secured by the parents in advance.
Finally, the thirteenth birthday signified the passage into adulthood. This rite required the child to reach the end of a dungeon. Not an overly dangerous one, but one that had been previously cleared by adventurers, with the strongest monsters already defeated.
In most noble houses, siblings were allowed to form teams for the trial. But in the royal family, to prove one's strength above all others, the child had to go alone.
And Ludleth knew… in his current state, he would not survive it.
Beneath the table, his hand clenched into a tight fist. The frustration of feeling so weak, so unworthy, coiled like a snake in his chest.
But then, his mother's hand gently rested on his. A silent gesture of comfort and encouragement.
The King observed his second son with that same stoic expression, letting the silence weigh on the moment before finally turning his gaze to the youngest.
"Jasper, your seventh birthday approaches. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Father!" the little boy with black hair replied eagerly, his eyes gleaming.
Being so young, the King allowed him the familiar title of Father a liberty not granted to his two elder sons, who were expected to address him as Your Majesty.
After hearing the responses of his sons, the King raised his hand once again.
The servants returned and followed the same elegant procedure as before.
This time, when they lifted the silver domes, each plate revealed a massive steak, cut from some unknown beast easily the size of a bison flank, judging by its sheer volume.
Thus, the dinner continued. It was no longer as silent as before, as the King began to engage in casual conversation with his wives.
"Nasha, I heard your father's trade guild has expanded to the south."
The black-haired woman let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, thanks to some of Audrey's contacts, he managed to expand beyond the kingdom's borders. Though he keeps complaining about the low currency exchange rate."
"That's to be expected," the king replied as he sliced his meat. "I've heard the Red Kingdom's Conclave has launched a major new expedition. Their demand for supplies is enormous."
Audrey flipped her chestnut hair with a slight sigh. "Will those religious fanatics ever stop with their holy missions?"
"I doubt they will," said Anna thoughtfully, her gaze distant. "Not until they reclaim all of their sacred lands. I once joined one of their missions, and I must say their zeal was terrifying. The believers flung themselves at monsters as if possessed."
These small conversations continued throughout the dinner, until the final course was served and the meal came to an end.