For the royal family, not even a meal could be handled simply. There were no witnesses to judge them but the family still sat at a dining table with twelve seats. A pristine white tablecloth covered the elegant table, it’s ends nearly covering its long legs like a modest woman’s skirts. There were two flower arrangements despite the coming frost, each vibrant petal expertly selected by the servants, mainly the young women, and placed in artistic vases that cost more gold than the average commoner saw in a year.

Angelleen scoffed seeing them. Before she left, flower arrangement was Selestia’s pastime and she was far better at it. If she hadn’t been born a princess, her first daughter would undoubtedly have been a florist. Or perhaps a particularly skilled farmer, if her luck was bad.

Each place sitting was meticulously arranged, from the colorful glassware plates to the silver utensils, including two spoons, three forks, and two knives. The royal family dined on a small fortune, made more extravagant by the fragility of the beautiful items. The earthenware used by commoners, the best of which was produced by the earth casters, was sturdier and far less expensive, but no noble of any standing would eat off “dirt”.

Angelleen was the first to arrive, taking her usual place to the left of the head seat and settling Angelica beside her. The two of them talked about nothing that could have been anything until Samuel arrived.

She would be the first to admit that her second son was a prideful young man. She would also admit that she was perhaps the greatest reason for such. The queen wanted to instill confidence in him. His father certainly didn’t bother to. He was mildly impressed by his son having two affinities but Dowager had the same. A little talent wasn’t enough to drag the king’s attention away from his heir.

It was unfair. Samuel genuinely deserved praise. With his father absent, it fell to her to make up for it and she did her best. She used his resentment for his brother to combat his disappointment and stoke a competitive fire.

She made sure he had the same level of tutors. Sebastian hadn’t approved. Giving the two boys the same number of tutors made it appear that Sebastian was comparing the two when he wanted Dowager’s future to be unquestioned. Things could get messy if those in power thought there was a chance to pit the two brothers against one another. However, Angelleen fought for her children and as the only thing she fought for, she did it desperately. Her prince got his teachers and he took his studies seriously.

When Dowager took up martial practice, Samuel attempted to follow but he was a…softer boy. That kind of practice didn’t agree with him and it made him despondent. As a young boy, he wasn’t immune to stories of knights and heroes. Knowing he had no talent for fighting crushed him, especially when the people he saw most often besides his family were the royal knights.

The queen showed him another way. While his brother played with swords, Angelleen took him to parties. Knights taught Dowager to swing a sword while she taught Samuel to weave words. She was unwise to the games of patriarchs and other powerful men but she knew nobles and how to move amongst them. Especially younger ones, driven by egos more than good sense.

Eventually, her actions sparked a contest between the brothers. Samuel did not simply study, he made a competition of it and often derided his brother as “another musclebrain knight” amongst their peers. Rather than lament his lack of talent in combat, he derided fighting as barbaric and the job of commoners.

As a queen, she should have put her foot down and curbed Samuel’s growing anger but as a mother, she couldn’t. Like her, his resentment was the foundation of his strength. If she criticized him, she would rip the wheels off his wagon. His confidence would collapse and he would stall in the middle of the road with no direction. He needed his hate so she let him have it.

However, actions had consequences. Sebastian couldn’t allow Samuel to continue poisoning their peers against Dowager. So, he sent him to the Grand Hall. An action that did nothing to soothe her son’s deep-seated anger. She tried her best to frame it as an opportunity, which wasn’t hard as the Hall’s reputation proceeded it, but her honeyed words couldn’t cover the truth that Samuel was being cast out. Dismissed.

Still, he strutted off with intentions to prove himself. Samuel’s many friends often whispered how he would be more fitting as king, no doubt urged to do so by their families. They preferred her noble prince, who shared many of their ideals, over her little warrior and his intentions to define his reign by the sword. Samuel bought into their words. He thought if he accumulated enough achievements, he could usurp his brother’s position.

Angelleen finally had to step in. She couldn’t sit by and let false ambition lead her children to ruin. No matter what Samuel did, Dowager would be prince. The only way to stop it was for her eldest to die.

This was not a dramatic tale sung by a bard. If he, the second son, killed his brother for the throne, it would only end in both their deaths. Such an event would be plenty painful on its own but, worse, Bastian would be the only heir left and her third son being in charge would be good for no one.

So, the queen stifled her Samuel, for his own good. Angelleen made it clear that no matter what he said or accomplished, he would never be his brother’s equal, at least in the eyes of their father.

And, as she feared, the rejection cut him deep. He was a ball of anger and frustration when he went off to the Hall, just waiting for the right victims to lash out at. It led to minor disagreements, easily swept under the rug known as the crown’s influence, but his latest “scuffle” was a bit worse.

Since his return, Samuel seemed tired. Not physically. Despite inheriting his father’s broad shoulders and strong chin, he was as well-groomed as his sisters. His face was clean shaven, his skin had a healthy glow, and his white hair was neatly combed. However, a good care regimen couldn’t hide the exhaustion in his eyes. He was a sullen ghost that haunted the castle, brooding and directionless.

“Mother,” he said absently, pulling out the chair across from Angelica. He briefly looked at his younger sister before turning away. Angelleen was disappointed but seeing her youngest humming to herself while drawing circles on the smooth tablecloth, completely unbothered by his disregard, she decided to let the matter drop.

Dowager entered soon after, throwing open the doors to the dining room. “Evening, family!” he shouted, voice echoing off the high ceiling.

“Inside voice, dear,” the queen said reflexively as he marched forward, taking the seat between Samuel and the empty head of the table. “Really, you’re not a boy anymore, Dowager.”

“Hah! My apologies, mother.” He chuckled. “I was talking with Uncle Reis and am still a little excited. He keeps refusing to trade blows with me. It’s been too long since I’ve had a decent sparring partner. The knights pull their blows too much.”

“They can’t afford to harm you. It goes against everything the royal knights stand for.”

“Bah! Better a few cuts and bruises now than I lose my head in battle.”

“Dowager!”

“I don’t mean to invite ill, mother.” He flashed her a charming smile before turning to Angelica. “Little berry~”

The youngest looked up. She blinked multiple times, her blank gaze slowly focusing on him. Then she smiled. “I’m not a berry, silly! I’m a princess.”

“A berry princess! Picked you right off one of the gardener’s bushes after a picnic.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“We did! You were so small you could fit in the palm of my hand and everyone thought you were too cute to leave behind.”

Her giggles were interrupted by Samuel’s scoff. “You should stop filling her head with nonsense. She’s lost enough in there as it is.”

Dowager’s silly smile faded and his shoulders tensed. His eyes narrowed as he turned to his brother. “I see you’re a bucket of sunshine as usual, Sam. You should practice with me sometime. We all know your martial skills are lacking. Be a shame if another girl bludgeons you when you return to the Hall.”

The second prince fought a sneer. “That woman is more of a brute than you. I wager she’d bludgeon you just as well, brother.”

“Ha! I certainly doubt I’d have to worry about her holding back!”

“What are we discussing?” a voice asked. The table turned as Bastian, the third prince, entered the room. Unlike his brothers, he took more after his mother, being of shorter stature and rounder features. His soft chin and larger eyes gave him a boyish charm that didn’t match his debauched nature. “Mother, Angelica,” he agreed, bowing over the back of his chair before taking a seat beside Samuel.

“We were talking about the noble lady who kicked Samuel’s a—"

“Dowager, language,” Angelleen said with a sigh.

“The girl who kicked his butt.”

“Oh, Lourianne Tome.”

“Yeah. I think I heard father say you met her.”

Bastian’s smile slimmed, becoming tense. “Briefly. It was during that mess with the Grimoires. Her family was demanding compensation from the previous patriarch. She was the only one who didn’t seem out for blood. Seems strange to me that she would get so…” His eyes briefly cut to the second prince. “Violent.”

“Well, our foolish brother did provoke her,” Dowager said with a chuckle.

“Quiet, you oaf!”

Angelleen watched her children bicker with a fond smile. She was aware of the girl they spoke of. Lourianne Tome had caused quite a stir in the capital when she emerged from apparent death alongside her elven bride. The upper class didn’t quite know how to handle her.

They had plenty of reasons to detest her. Foremost, the fact that she had married a woman, something that was just not done. Such a pairing could not produce heirs and nobles only valued power over bloodline.

Beyond that, Lourianne was her father’s only child. By not marrying a man, there was no son for him to pass on his legacy to. That broke tradition, the third most important thing to nobles. Then of course were the rumors of her behavior. The girl went against everything the highborn valued and was unpleasant company to boot.

On the other hand, she reeked of opportunity. Strange happenings surrounded her. She escaped the jaws of death and came back with elven royalty. The Grimoire patriarch storms her house in response to her embarrassing his son, which everyone expected to end in tragedy for the Tomes. Instead, it ends with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom losing his mind and dying to the blades of the royal knights. The Golden Merchant himself was trying to drag her into the Expansionist Faction.

She even thwarted an assassination attempt against Samuel. Fighting off her son was admittedly not very impressive but the question was, how had she known about it in the first place? She hadn’t used her thralls to invade the Ferraro boy’s mind, they’d checked his memories thoroughly.

Her most recent accomplishment was her unprecedented performance in the Hall’s qualifiers. Her team broke Dunwayne’s record. Dunwayne’s.

Lourianne Tome appeared to be a fool but her actions showed she was startlingly competent.

The members of society were presented with a choice. They could scorn her, and most did, but the truth was, their scorn meant nothing to the girl.

She didn’t bother attending their banquets, even the ones she received invitations for. She owned no businesses and governed no lands. No reason to protect her reputation. None of them dared to assault her physically. Never mind the unfortunate fate of the Grimoires, if her wife could do half of what the crown suspected, any challengers were sentencing themselves to death.

If their scorn was useless and potentially hazardous to their health, and making nice with the girl could lead to many potential benefits, why would they continue to hold on to it? That left them with the second option, grin and bear it. With the Guiness family leading the charge, suddenly, highborn society became far more tolerant of alternative relationships, at least in public. As always, power reigned supreme.

Angelleen thought she wouldn’t mind meeting the young noblewoman herself. She was interesting and, after a lifetime of being locked away in the palace, the queen valued new and interesting experiences more than gold. Perhaps she would have the opportunity if Angelica insisted she needed to visit the Grand Hall. She’d have to prepare a suitable gift for the girl and her wife, a task she knew she’d have much more success in compared to her husband. The thought made her chuckle.

Her humor and the flippant conversation of her sons were cut off by the doors opening as the king entered the dining room.