Prince Landon took his seat beside his wife, Maria Eldric, the daughter of Minister Frank Eldric. Maria carried herself with the same regal bearing as her father—a woman of grace and quiet strength. Her dark brown hair, styled in an elegant updo, framed her poised features, and her sharp, perceptive eyes reflected a composed intelligence. She rarely spoke unless necessary, yet when she did, her words were measured and precise, leaving little room for dispute. She was a pillar of dignity, embodying the refined decorum expected of an imperial princess by marriage.

  Seated beside her were their two children—Benric Solarius, their fourteen-year-old son, and Gracie Solarius, their fifteen-year-old daughter.

  Benric sat upright, his posture disciplined even during the informal setting of breakfast. A small sword rested at his waist, a silent declaration of his dedication to the art of swordsmanship. Though it was not customary to bring weapons to the imperial dining table, no one questioned it—his unwavering passion for the blade was already well known. His deep, dark eyes, a signature trait of the Solarius bloodline, carried a quiet intensity, while his dark brown hair, inherited from his mother, framed his youthful yet resolute face. Even at his age, there was an air of seriousness about him, as if he were already preparing for the responsibilities that awaited him in the future.

  Next to him, Gracie Solarius sat with the effortless grace expected of a noble lady. Her brown hair, styled in soft curls, cascaded elegantly down her back, complementing the intricate design of her luxurious dress—embroidered with gold and adorned with fine pearls. Unlike her mother and brother, whose expressions remained measured, Gracie’s deep, dark eyes shimmered with curiosity and quiet amusement as she observed the interactions around her. There was an air of refinement in her every movement, yet beneath that polished demeanor lay a keen mind and a subtle sharpness, inherited from both her parents. She was no mere decoration at court—Gracie was a young lady who watched, listened, and understood far more than she let on.

  The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the grand hall as Prince William Solarius entered, his long stride exuding confidence. His black hair, neatly combed back, and his finely tailored attire reflected the effortless elegance of a man well-versed in imperial decorum. Though he was slightly late, his entrance carried none of the hurried energy of someone seeking to make up for lost time. Instead, he exuded the casual ease of someone who knew that his presence alone was enough.

  "Oh, I apologize, Father. I seem to be a bit late," William said smoothly, bowing his head slightly as he approached the table.

  Emperor Andrew barely spared him a glance, simply nodding and waving a hand dismissively before returning his attention to the meal preparations. It was neither approval nor disapproval—just a silent acknowledgment.

  William, unfazed, moved to take his seat opposite Prince Landon and next to Prince Nolan.

  “Good to see you back, brother. And you as well, sister-in-law,” William greeted with a charming smile as he settled into his chair.

  Frederica returned the greeting with a graceful nod, her voice calm and composed. “I am also grateful to see you again, Your Highness William.”

  Nolan, always the quieter of the brothers, simply nodded with a small smile.

  William’s gaze drifted past Frederica until he spotted Hans, the youngest member of the family, seated beside his mother. A warm smile spread across William’s face as he addressed him.

  “This is my first time meeting you, Hans.” He leaned forward slightly, his tone playful yet gentle. “I am Uncle William.”

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  Hans hesitated for a moment, his small fingers clutching his spoon tightly before he finally stammered, “Ni... Nice to meet you too, Uncle William.”

  A chuckle escaped William at the boy’s shy response, but before he could say more, Emperor Andrew clapped his hands once, signaling the beginning of the meal.

  Servants immediately entered the hall in well-practiced synchronization, carrying silver trays laden with an array of dishes—steamed eggs with herbs, roasted meats, freshly baked bread, golden honeyed pastries, and an assortment of fruits imported from the southern provinces. The rich aroma filled the hall, mingling with the gentle clinking of silverware as the Imperial family prepared to dine.

  As the meal commenced, Prince Nolan took a measured bite of his food before turning his attention to his younger brother.

  "I heard you've accomplished quite a bit while I was away, William." His tone was casual, but the underlying curiosity was evident. "Subduing an eighth-rank dungeon isn’t a small feat."

  Across the table, Prince William reached for his goblet, taking a sip of water before responding with an easy smile.

  "Well, you’re no stranger to making history yourself, brother. Didn’t you gain access to Hilda Kingdom’s Alchemy Research Institute’s High Library? That makes you the twenty-sixth foreigner ever to be granted that honor, doesn’t it?"

  Nolan chuckled, leaning back slightly. "Yeah, that was a surprise to me as well."

  It was clear that William was deliberately steering the conversation away from his own achievement—or more specifically, from any talk regarding the dungeon. The avoidance did not go unnoticed.

  Seated beside Nolan, Princess Frederica took the opportunity to praise her husband. "Nolan worked tirelessly to earn the scholars’ approval. His dedication and understanding of their teachings impressed even Father." Her words were graceful, yet laced with a quiet assertion—a reminder that her husband’s accomplishments were not to be downplayed.

  Prince Landon, however, smirked as he lazily cut into his meal. "Yes, I imagine it must have been quite the effort… spending long hours behind closed doors with scholars, it requires quite the stamina." His tone was light, but there was a distinct sharpness to it—a thinly veiled reference to the affair scandal that had been discreetly covered up by King Julian Hill to preserve both his dignity and his daughter’s reputation.

  A brief silence followed.

  Nolan’s jaw tightened ever so slightly before he made a deliberate clearing of his throat—a subtle attempt to shift the conversation. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of something cold and sharp passed across Frederica’s expression, but it vanished almost immediately, replaced by her usual composed smile.

  Nolan exhaled and returned fire. "You certainly don’t lack accomplishments yourself, Landon. Increasing anti-imperial sentiment among the vassal states—quite the remarkable achievement, wouldn’t you say?"

  The tension in the room thickened. Landon’s easygoing demeanor faltered for just a moment as he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get a word out, a sharp clink echoed through the hall.

  The deliberate tap of a spoon against a fine porcelain cup.

  All eyes turned toward Emperor Andrew. His expression remained impassive, but the message was clear—this childish bickering would not continue under his watch.

  With effortless authority, Emperor Andrew redirected the discussion.

  "Benric," he said, turning toward his grandson, "I hear your swordsmanship training has been progressing well. Your master tells me you're already fighting at the level of a knight?"

  At the sudden attention, Benric Solarius immediately straightened his posture. The fourteen-year-old carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin before setting it down, demonstrating the disciplined composure expected of him.

  "Yes, Grandfather!" His voice carried a mixture of pride and youthful excitement. "Just last week, I won a duel against a knight. My master said I’m ready to advance to magic swordsmanship training!"

  A ripple of murmurs passed through the table. Such progress at his age was impressive.

  Emperor Andrew’s gaze softened with approval. "My, my… quite the fast learner, aren’t you? I recall having to wait until I was sixteen before I was even allowed to begin magic swordsmanship."

  Benric’s chest swelled slightly at the praise, his dark eyes shining with satisfaction.

  The emperor smiled, nodding. "Such dedication deserves to be rewarded. I ought to present you with something fitting for your efforts."

  Benric’s expression brightened further, though he remained respectfully silent, waiting to hear what his grandfather had in mind.