"I desire the same, Sumin," Shikuza said, his voice low with resolve. "And we will do everything in our power to ensure this beginning never comes to pass… for if it does, the consequences could be… catastrophic."
A sudden knock echoed against the chamber door.
Before anyone could respond, it creaked open and a guard stepped inside. Bowing his head respectfully, he spoke,
"Your meal has been prepared. The royal table awaits you—please grace the Royal Dastarkhān with your presence, my prince."
Keifer, who had been sprawled across the bed in utter exhaustion, sprang up in an instant—as if jolted back to life. "Finally—let's go!" he said, already moving.
Sumin and Shikuza exchanged a brief glance, still slightly taken aback by his sudden burst of energy.
Keifer glanced back at them, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that? If you're not hungry, then don't come. I, however, am leaving."
Sumin frowned, clearly irritated. "Could you please stop behaving like this everywhere we go?!"
Keifer blinked in mild confusion. "Behaving… like what, exactly?"
Sumin crossed his arms, his tone turning sharp. "As if you've never seen food in your life. What is it? Does your household starve you… or is your entire kingdom suffering from a famine, hmm?"
"That's no excuse at all!" Keifer snapped, throwing a hand toward Sumin with a dramatic flourish.
"Hunger touches everyone—it's natural! Does that mean we must hide it? Must we pretend it doesn't exist?!" His voice rang with a mixture of frustration and stubborn pride, eyes flashing as if daring anyone to argue.
Sumin's shoulders tensed, and he pressed a hand to his forehead, exhaling sharply.
"Keiferrrrrr," he groaned, his voice teetering between exasperation and disbelief.
"Even we feel hunger, even we are bone-tired, yet you don't see us acting like… like this! Must you always make such a scene, wherever we go?"
His gaze softened momentarily, showing a flicker of concern for the prince's unpredictable energy, but the annoyance still burned in his eyes.
Keifer let out a short, incredulous laugh, the corner of his lips twitching upward in mischief.
"Ah… you two think yourselves so noble and restrained," he said, tilting his head, "but sometimes… you just need to live! Can't you see? Even the smallest desires, like hunger, demand acknowledgment!"
From behind, Prince Shikuza's shadow fell over them, his arms crossed and a faint sigh escaping his lips.
"ohhh… you two will never change," he murmured, his tone half amusement, half resignation. "I swear… no matter how many times I watch you bicker, I wonder if you'll ever learn restraint—or even patience. Truly… when will you ever learn?"
His gaze lingered on them, a soft, almost weary smile playing at the corners of his mouth, betraying a quiet fondness despite his words.
"Alright, then, let's go," Shikuza said, a teasing lilt in his voice, draping an arm over each of their shoulders.
"Keep fighting among yourselves all you want, my commander… my captain," he added with a mischievous smile. "But move along now—if it gets cold, where's the fun in that, hmm?" His tone was light, almost teasing, yet carried that subtle command that left no room for protest.
They followed, stepping into the royal dining chamber, and their eyes widened. Around the grand table, dozens of chefs stood in perfect formation, as if frozen in a ceremonial tableau.
Every platter, every dish, was a masterpiece—golden roasts gleaming, steaming soups sending aromatic swirls into the air, fruits and desserts arranged like jewels. The sheer abundance and opulence of the feast made the room feel alive, almost magical.
Shikuza's fingers traced the edge of the table as he leaned forward slightly, eyes twinkling with both mischief and pride. "Now… this," he murmured softly, "this is worth the effort, isn't it?"
"I hope you will enjoy this meal, my prince," a figure stepped forward from in front of the table, bowing slightly, voice calm yet carrying the weight of respect.
Keifer stepped forward, his posture confident, eyes sharp as he acknowledged the newcomer.
"And you, Commander Thoryn," he said, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. "I see you've returned from your tasks."
Commander Thoryn's expression was calm, but carried the weight of authority and experience. "Indeed," he replied, stepping closer. "I had matters to attend to, but I knew you two would surely arrive."
Shikuza's lips curved into a faint smile, his tone light yet commanding. "Our presence was inevitable," he said simply, as if it were the natural order of things.
Sumin moved forward, bowing slightly in greeting. "Welcome back, my commander. I hope the task you undertook has been fulfilled." His voice carried a mixture of respect, relief, and curiosity, betraying the underlying care he felt for the man.
Commander Thoryn exhaled deeply, a long, measured breath, before replying, "Yes… you may say that. And thank you, Captain Sumin, for your concern." His eyes softened just a touch, acknowledging the respect without losing the stoic composure of a seasoned warrior.
"No more wasting time," Commander Thoryn said, his tone firm yet carrying a quiet command. "Let us begin the meal. Come, take your seats."
Without another word, they moved gracefully toward the grand table. Each step echoed slightly in the high-ceilinged hall, the light of golden chandeliers glinting off the polished silverware and the gleaming platters of food.
One by one, they seated themselves, the hum of anticipation filling the air as the aroma of roasted meats, spiced broths, and baked delicacies wrapped around them like a warm, invisible cloak. Even the subtle rustle of the robes and the faint clink of utensils seemed amplified in the majestic room, making the moment feel almost ceremonial.
As they settled, the grandeur of the royal feast seemed to pulse with life, reflecting not just wealth, but honor, loyalty, and the silent power dynamics between those gathered.
They began to eat, the rich aroma of the feast filling the air, plates piled high with golden meats, steaming breads, and jewel-like fruits. The hall seemed alive with the quiet shuffle of utensils and the soft murmurs of appreciation.
But for a single, fleeting moment, Keifer's gaze sharpened. His hunger screamed at him, urging him to grab everything within reach and devour it without restraint. He could almost taste it already, feel the warmth of the food in his hands.
Yet, he paused—just slightly. Pride, and the careful image he maintained, held him back. Not completely, but enough to make his movements measured, controlled, and almost deliberate. Beneath the calm exterior, however, his eyes betrayed the storm of impatience, glinting with the quiet, unspoken chaos of a man who wanted to consume the world… starting with the feast before him.
In the deep, endless night, under a sky that seemed to swallow all sound, they sat within the grand halls of the royal castle, dining amidst the quiet grandeur. The flickering candlelight cast long, wavering shadows across the polished floors and towering walls, making the feast seem both intimate and monumental.
The hall was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft clink of cutlery and the occasional murmur of conversation. Outside, the wind whispered through the castle battlements, carrying secrets from the darkened world beyond.
And then—suddenly—Shikuza felt it. A subtle shift in the air, almost imperceptible, but enough to make his instincts flare. Something… was coming. A prickling at the back of his mind, a whisper on his senses that drew his eyes sharply to the shadows beyond the grand windows.