Main Palace
Dinning Hall
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The dining hall was absurdly long. Not metaphorically, architecturally. The table stretched like a polished river of dark oak, its surface broken only by silver platters, crystal goblets, and enough cutlery to arm a small battalion.
Chandeliers hung overhead in perfect symmetry, their candlelight refracting off gold trim and marble pillars, casting soft echoes of light across the vaulted ceiling.
The hall was full of noise, yet nearly empty.
Forks tapped plates. Knives scraped. Somewhere down the line, a goblet chimed as it was set down too quickly. Every sound bounced, multiplied, and returned as a quieter ghost of itself.
Maids stood at attention along the walls and at the far ends of the table. Backs straight, hands folded, eyes lowered. They were statues that breathed, waiting for a raised finger or a nod to spring into motion with more food, more wine, more excess.
At the very center of it all sat only two figures.
The Emperor occupied his usual seat, posture rigid, movements methodical. He ate with the precision of a man who had done so a thousand times under watchful eyes.
He was dressed formally, black three piece suit with a gold watch on. Matching his eyes. He wasn't wearing his crown but he had his velvet cape on.
Every bite was measured. Every motion had purpose.
Across from him, far across from him, the prince slouched.
"Father." the prince said, raising his voice just enough to bridge the ridiculous distance between them, "Be honest with me, did you really have to wear a suit to dinner?"
The King did not look up. "Honesty rarely requires an announcement....and yes, yes I did"
Adrian grinned, undeterred. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out beneath the table like a man relaxing in a tavern rather than the heir to a throne. He had on a grey t shirt and black slacks. More for comfort than fashion. But he still managed to look good regardless.
"Haa. Of course". He started. "Did we build this table to intimidate enemies," he continued, "or to make sure I forget what you look like by the time dessert arrives?"
With a faint pause. Altáir cut another piece of meat. Chewed. Swallowed. "The table," he said evenly, "was built to accommodate large gatherings."
"Ah. Of course," the prince nodded sagely. "Because nothing says unity like shouting across twenty feet of furniture."
The Emperor finally lifted his gaze.
It was not sharp, not angry, Just heavy. Like stone acknowledging weather. "You are close enough to be heard," he replied. "That is sufficient."
Adrian clicked his tongue. "Spoken like a man who's never had to ask for the salt from another continent." He said gesturing vaguely down the table. A maid immediately stepped forward, offering the salt cellar without a word.
The prince blinked, then laughed softly. "See?. Even the servants think this is excessive."
The King ignored that entirely. He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, folded it once, and set it beside his plate with almost military neatness. "You are late," he said.
"By five minutes," Adrian replied. "Six, if you count the dramatic pause I made at the doors."
"Haaa. I do not." Altáir remarked. Letting out a sigh.
"Shame. It was a very good pause." Adrian retorted.
Silence settled again, thick but not hostile. The chandeliers hummed faintly as warm air rose toward the ceiling. Somewhere, a maid shifted her weight.
Adrian stabbed at a roasted vegetable and sighed."You know," he said, more casually now, "most families sit closer. Talk louder.
Throw bread at each other."
"We are not most families." His Father stated casually.
"No," the prince agreed. "We're a very expensive, totally not dysfunctional echo." He concluded.
That earned him another look; longer this time. Altáir studied his son the way one might assess a blade: checking for flaws, balance, hidden strength.
Adrian met the gaze openly, still smiling, though something quieter lived behind it.
"At the meeting tomorrow," the King said at last, "you will be on your best behaviour."
The prince groaned. "That's cruel and unusual punishment."
"It is necessary."
"Necessary for what?" He asked tilting his head.
The Emperor seemed like he was about to respond but he paused, glancing at the door as a very familiar head maid walked in. A warm smile on her face.
"Took you long enough.....Lucia. And where is my favourite dessert?,You promised. The red-eyed menace asked. A mischievous glint in his eyes.
"I have it prepared young Lord. I'll bring it in a minute." She started warmly. "Welcome back your grace. You sent for me". She said, greeting the Emperor with a bow.
"Good to see you as always Lucia. Send someone over to Eden's manor and have them bring him here. It's high time he's brought back here." He stated casually.
"Umm....that would be a problem your Grace. Eden left a few months ago."
' ––– '
Silence returned as the whole dinning Hall
froze. Nobody moved, nobody dared to move. Well all except one.
"Father don't spook the servants. He'll be fine... I think. Besides it's not like they could stop him from leaving. Adrian remarked.
"Haaa. What exactly did he say before leaving Lucia?" Altáir intoned.
"He mentioned something about going on adventures to get stronger. And that he'll be back soon your Grace." She explained carefully. Head lowered.
"Hmm".
"Well that's it. Don't go bringing him back till he's ready old man. He needs this." Adrian added. Taking on a rare serious tone.
"Haaa. Fine". Altáir replied with a tired sigh.
"Now Lucia. Kindly get me my desert. Get something sweet for the old man too. He seriously needs it.
"As you wish young Lord." She said with a bow. Whispering a 'thank you' to Adrian who waved it off. As she swiftly made her way towards the exit. Two maids in tow.
And silence returned with only the occasional clinking sound of cutlery. As the father and son finally returned to their dinner.