"Oh! By the Dragon God! This roasted meat is simply divine! I'd gladly die for it!" Lance exclaimed, his mouth stuffed with the spiced roasted venison, speaking through a mouthful of food.
"Looks like I've conquered yet another soul with my cooking!" Rynar chuckled. In his good mood today, he had personally cooked to reward his loyal baron.
"By the way, Your Highness, why are you still living in a tent? Hasn't the castle been renovated yet?" Lance suddenly brought up a painfully direct question.
"Uh... well... it's a manpower issue. I had to prioritize ensuring enough food supplies for winter, so I couldn't spare any craftsmen for castle repairs and expansion. In fact, construction has been halted for about half a month now," Rynar admitted, rubbing his hands awkwardly. For once, he even blushed a little—though under the flickering firelight of the night, it wasn't very noticeable. Only Nyx, who was sitting closely beside him, keenly sensed his embarrassment. However, she merely chuckled softly without saying a word.
"Ah... I see. You truly are a benevolent king! Here! A toast to your health!" Having had a bit too much ale, Lance was already somewhat tipsy. He blearily raised his silver goblet filled with ale and made a distant toast to Rynar.
As the feast continued, Rynar soon discovered that Lance, usually a refined and noble aristocrat, was actually a lightweight when it came to drinking.
"Wow, impressive! Just a few drinks and you're already like this? If only we had some peanuts to go with it, it wouldn't have come to this..." Rynar muttered, reminiscing about the fried peanuts that paired so well with drinks in his past life, while simultaneously "praising" Lance's abysmal alcohol tolerance.
"Uh... Lance, you're getting a bit too drunk. Let me take you back to rest," Marcus interjected, seeing the situation develop into potential embarrassment. He quickly stepped in to steady Lance.
"Your Highness, I'll escort him back first. Apologies, everyone!" Marcus politely excused them, preparing to haul Lance away.
"Marcus! Let go of me! I'm not drunk! I'm perfectly sober! I propose a toast to the happiness of our two Highnesses!" Lance pushed Marcus away and raised his goblet once more. His words left even Marcus with no choice but to go along—after all, no one could refuse a toast made in the name of the happiness of the two rulers.
"Alright, we have already given our blessings to Their Highnesses. Now, we should go!" Marcus saw that Lance was teetering on the edge of disaster. If he didn't drag him away now, only the Dragon God knew what shocking words might come out next.
"To the prosperity of Zaltarion! A toast!" Lance once again raised his goblet with lightning speed, so fast that even Marcus, who outranked him, couldn't stop him.
"Uh... to the prosperity of Zaltarion!" Marcus sighed and resignedly lifted his own goblet, along with the rest of the guests.
"A toast to the health and intelligence of the children of Their Highnesses!" Completely losing all sense of restraint, Lance stood up and shouted, goblet held high.
"Oh, by the Dragon God..." Marcus covered his face with his hands in defeat. This colleague of his, whom he usually got along with so well, was beyond saving tonight. Welcome to a firsthand experience of public humiliation.
"Baron Lance, don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?" Rynar eyed the swaying Lance cautiously, afraid that this drunkard might start a drunken rampage and land a blow on his head.
"To the noble and elegant body of the beautiful and enchanting Grand Duchess Nyx—" Lance raised his goblet, about to continue, when Marcus and Apophis Breo swiftly clamped their hands over his mouth. Thankfully, they stopped him in time; otherwise, the consequences would have been catastrophic.
Marcus and Apophis exchanged glances, both seeing the relief in each other's eyes. By the Dragon God, had Lance finished that sentence, Rynar would probably have beheaded him on the spot.
"Cough! Cough! Cough!" Rynar choked on his drink at Lance's unfinished words. Though he hadn't said everything, Rynar could clearly understand what this drunkard was getting at... Was he trying to get himself killed?!
"Your Highness!" Nyx gently patted Rynar's back, concern in her eyes.
"Smack!" Reynard delivered a swift karate chop to the back of Lance's head, instantly quieting him down.
"Your Highness, I'll take him back to rest..." Reynard said awkwardly. As a smart and perceptive man, he had also caught on to Lance's underlying meaning. He feared that if they left him here any longer to keep embarrassing himself, Rynar would truly have him executed. Who knew what else he might blurt out?
"Yes, he's had too much. Let him rest properly," Rynar said generously, choosing not to hold a grudge against a drunken fool. He simply ordered Reynard to take Lance away as quickly as possible—otherwise, if he said another two sentences, Rynar feared he really might not be able to hold back from cutting him down.
...
"Ugh... ouch! Was I attacked?!" The next noon, Lance groggily climbed out of bed, his hangover and Reynard's karate chop making him feel like he had been run over by a carriage.
"I should have been at His Highness's banquet… How did I end up back here? Ugh! It hurts!" He twisted his neck slightly, only to immediately wince in pain.
"Thirsty... water... I need water!" Finally regaining some awareness, Lance desperately groped for a drink on his bedside table.
"My lord, here's your water!" A soft, gentle voice rang out, followed by a cup of water being handed over.
"Gulp! Gulp!" Lance grabbed the cup and downed its contents in one go—only to finally notice the person in front of him.
"Pfft!" He instantly turned into a high-pressure water gun, spraying water everywhere.
"Nina?! What are you doing in my house?!" Seeing Nina Boen in her casual homewear, Lance's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He was a noble of proper values! He would never partake in the act of abducting maidens! If a young girl appeared in his home dressed like this, rumors would surely spread like wildfire.
"Oh, I just arrived here and had nowhere to go, so they arranged for me to stay here!" Nina Boen tilted her head adorably.
"What?! Who arranged this?!" Lance's face twisted in sheer disbelief.
"That city defense officer, of course! You were busy at the banquet, and no one was there to take care of me, so I asked where I should stay!" Nina Boen replied cheerfully.
"Marcus!!!" Lance roared in fury. That bastard had arranged for a young girl to stay in his house—just the two of them?! If this got out...
...
"Are you sure Lance won't kill you for this?" Caslow smirked as he looked at Marcus.
"Cough, cough, I don't think he can beat me… Besides, it's for his own good. He brought the girl back himself, so naturally, he should be responsible for her safety. And honestly, landing a spellcaster like her is a huge win for him!" Marcus waggled his eyebrows mischievously at Caslow.
"Isn't she a bit too young?" Caslow eyed Nina Boen's petite frame, which made her look like a child.
"I asked—she should be around fifteen. Probably malnourished, so she looks underdeveloped. Give her some time, and it won't be a problem. Plus, I've already spread the word," Marcus said, rubbing his chin with a sly grin.
"Uh... I think he's about to challenge you to a duel..." Rynar, who had just walked up behind them, commented dryly.
"Your Highness." Both men quickly bowed in greeting.
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