Arthur let out a quiet sigh.
"Asher?"
"Huh?"
Asher looked up, fork trembling with the cursed salad skewered on it.
"You don't want to eat salad?"
Arthur's voice was calm—almost suspiciously calm.
"Huh?? … No…"
Asher tore his gaze away from the plate and suddenly found the ceiling extremely fascinating.
Arthur's brow twitched.
"Asher. Look at me."
Reluctantly, he obeyed.
"You don't like salad?"
"What! Nooo— I… I don't like salad?"
His smile was so fake it practically squeaked.
"Who told you that? Of course I… I don't like salad. Haha.
I… I loooove s… sss… salod."
"Salod?" Arthur repeated flatly.
"Salod?" echoed the maids behind him.
"Hehe…" Asher wished he could teleport under the table.
Arthur stared, completely done.
"Okay, Asher, I don't get this. If you don't like salad—"
"I NEVER SAID THAT!!"
Arthur glared.
"If you don't like salad and don't want to eat it, then just don't eat it."
Asher blinked. His face twisted in pure confusion.
"So… you're saying… I don't have to eat salad?
If I don't want to?"
"Yes."
"…Is this a trap?" Asher asked seriously.
"No," Arthur said, now bewildered. "Why would I force you to eat salad?"
"Huh… why would you…" Asher murmured, confusion folding in on itself.
Then—
A memory cracked open.
"Rafael, finish your vegetables," a woman said at a family dinner.
"I don't want to…" he muttered.
Before she could argue, the man beside her spoke gently,
"If he doesn't want to eat it, don't force him. Let him finish everything else."
The woman slammed her fork down.
"No, he WILL finish them! And you—do you think it's good for him to eat whatever he wants?"
They were seconds from a fight.
"Hey… you don't have to argue."
They turned to find Rafael's plate empty—vegetables gone.
"I ate everything… so you don't need to fight."
He smiled.
Back in the present—
"Oh," Asher realized quietly. "Yeah… that's why."
Arthur watched him, concern softening his expression.
"Asher? Are you alright?"
"Y-yeah. I'm fine."
Asher took a sip of water, grounding himself.
Arthur spoke gently.
"I think I know what this is."
No you don't, Asher thought nervously.
"I don't know what happened to you in the dungeon… but I can guess it wasn't pretty."
Arthur's eyes dimmed, as if recalling distant memories.
"But I can tell you've changed."
Asher stiffened.
"You're acting differently than before."
Arthur gave a faint, understanding smile.
"Your worldview probably shifted."
That's… surprisingly accurate, Asher admitted inwardly.
"You probably understand yourself a bit better now," Arthur continued.
"Some things you cared about might not matter anymore.
And things you took for granted might suddenly feel important."
His voice softened, almost proud.
"This is the start of a new chapter for you, brother.
People face this moment all the time. Some ignore what they've realized and try to live the same old life… but they become empty shells.
The lucky ones choose to understand themselves—who they truly want to be."
Arthur leaned back slightly.
"You have to choose who you want to be.
Only you can make that decision."
Silence settled over the table.
Asher stared at his hands.
Arthur didn't know the truth… yet somehow his words struck the exact center of Asher's heart.
Who did he want to be?
He'd never asked himself that before.
He could pretend to be the old Asher, a hollow imitation.
Or become Rafael again, the boy who put on masks for everyone.
Or… someone new. Someone real.
He shook his head and smiled, small but genuine.
"Thank you, brother."
Arthur nodded, satisfied.
"Anytime."
The tension dissolved, and the maids served the rest of the dishes.
The brothers exchanged light conversation as they ate.
From the corner, Walter watched them with a faint, relieved smile.
After dinner, Asher said goodbye and headed to his room.
He immediately collapsed onto the massive bed.
"Damn… this is so comfy," he muttered, sinking into it.
As he pulled the covers over himself—
Having fun with my brother?
A familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"Huh. Someone sounds jealous," Asher teased.
The voice huffed.
"Hey, why didn't you say anything earlier when I called you?" he asked aloud.
Silence.
Just another irritated puff.
"Well, if you don't want to talk, I can't force you."
He closed his eyes.
Who was he now?
Not Rafael.
Not the old Asher.
Someone in between. Someone new.
He'd figure it out. Eventually.
Tomorrow, Arthur wanted him at the training grounds.
So he let his body relax and drifted into sleep.
Thus ended his first day in a new world.
--------------------------
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