Lunch With The Emperor I

To say Quinn's mood was foul would be an understatement of epic proportions. He was livid.

The morning after Cecilia's birthday banquet, his wife, Adeline, had approached him with an unusual amount of affection. Quinn, ever the dutiful husband, assumed she was simply in a good mood and had happily taken advantage of the rare moment of tenderness.

It wasn't until he reactivated his mana that the truth hit him like a war hammer.

Quinn had deactivated his mana for the night—a habit born of ensuring a peaceful rest, undisturbed by the overwhelming flow of information his heightened senses provided. Only imminent danger would have pierced the veil of calm he allowed himself.

So when he reactivated his senses that morning, the first thing he registered was Arthur Nightingale's presence far too close to his daughter for comfort. Specifically, in her room.

The realization almost sent him storming down the halls in a fury. Sure, teenage girls fooling around with boys was common enough these days—practically a given in the modern age. The average age for such things was sixteen, after all, the same as the legal age of consent in the Slatemark Empire.

But to think Cecilia had dared to bring him into her room, in his palace. Well, technically, it was her palace—one of several within the larger Imperial Palace complex—but that was semantics. As Emperor, all the palaces ultimately belonged to Quinn.

And therein lay the problem. It wasn't just that his daughter had crossed a line; it was that she'd done so right under his nose.

What really stoked the flames of his ire, however, was Adeline's refusal to back him up. With the calm logic that so often infuriated him, she pointed out that he'd never batted an eye at the string of young women Valerian had quietly smuggled into the palace over the years.

Quinn scowled at the memory of her words, his anger simmering but not boiling over. For now.

Lunch was about to become an entirely different battleground when Cecilia swept into the room, her arm entwined with Arthur's as though any distance between them was an intolerable offense. Her radiant smile didn't help matters; it only made Quinn's jaw tighten further.

Quinn glared at Arthur with the intensity of a storm on the horizon, his patience hanging by a thread.

The sheer audacity of the boy was, if nothing else, impressive. Quinn had made his disapproval abundantly clear—or so he thought. In his mind, the subtle yet unmistakable displays of distaste should have been more than enough to keep Arthur at arm's length. And yet, here he was, not just brazenly courting Cecilia but practically flaunting their closeness under Quinn's very nose.

'I know boys his age tend to think with what's under their belt, but this is something else entirely,' Quinn thought darkly. Most would have been paralyzed with fear at the prospect of facing an emperor's wrath, especially when their family was based in the Slatemark Empire.

The fact that Arthur was seemingly oblivious to—or outright dismissive of—the risks only added fuel to Quinn's simmering frustration. The Nightingales were untouchable for reasons Arthur himself likely didn't fully understand yet, but that only made the young man's boldness more bewildering.

And now, rather than retreating to safety, Arthur had decided to sit down for lunch with the imperial family, as though he belonged there. Even Valerian, who rarely reacted to anything, raised an eyebrow, and Adeline glanced at Cecilia with barely concealed curiosity.

This was shaping up to be quite the meal.

Quinn sat in silent anticipation, waiting for Arthur to greet the family properly. As Arthur prepared to speak, Cecilia tightened her grip on his arm, her subtle warning evident. A flicker of hesitation crossed Arthur's face before he squared his shoulders and parted his lips.

"Thank you for inviting me to lunch, Mother, Father, Brother," he said with a calm confidence that belied the gravity of his words.

Adeline stifled a laugh, the sheer audacity of Arthur's address catching her off guard. Her quiet giggle broke through the tension, while Quinn simply stared, momentarily rendered speechless.

'Father?' Quinn's thoughts stumbled over the word like a misstep on a staircase. 'Did he just call me... Father?'

He blinked, his mind struggling to process the young man's boldness. Before Quinn could form a response, Cecilia and Arthur took their seats, side by side, as if nothing unusual had transpired. Arthur's calm demeanor only deepened Quinn's bewilderment, leaving the emperor in stunned silence as the rest of the family exchanged amused glances.

Quinn found himself at a loss for words, watching as Arthur calmly ate lunch, completely unbothered by the tension in the room. It was as if the young man hadn't just addressed the Emperor of the Slatemark Empire as father without so much as a second thought.

"Quinn," Adeline leaned over, her voice low and teasing, "We were never this bold, were we?"

Quinn nodded absently, still processing the situation. Adeline and he had been a love match, not a political arrangement. She had been the woman who shattered the icy walls around his heart, earning his fiercely possessive devotion and instantly sidelining any arranged marriage proposals, despite her not meeting the traditional expectations of an empress.

Yes, they had their fair share of youthful recklessness, but Quinn couldn't recall ever doing something as audacious as this. Even at his most lovestruck, he had never strolled into Adeline's family home after spending the night with her, sat down for a meal, and addressed her father as father. That title only came after the wedding—and even then, with some awkwardness.

Yet here was Arthur, not only daring to do so without a ring on Cecilia's finger but doing it with such composure that it almost felt natural.

Quinn's grip on his fork tightened as his jaw worked in silent contemplation. The sheer nerve of this boy was equal parts maddening and, begrudgingly, impressive.

"It's nice to meet you, brother," Valerian greeted Arthur warmly, extending his hand.

"And you as well. Cecilia's told me a lot about you," Arthur replied with an easy smile as they shook hands.

Adeline, ever the gracious hostess, leaned in with a polite curiosity. "Arthur, I've heard quite a bit about your feats in the East," she began as the conversation unfolded.

"I've been fortunate," Arthur said modestly.

"Fortunate?" Adeline raised a brow. "I'm not sure luck quite explains your achievements. Not many would stand before Alyssara Velcroix and boldly declare they intend to kill her in the future."

Arthur inclined his head respectfully. "Yes, Mother, I did."

"Well, that explains your bravery," Adeline said with a soft chuckle, her smile laced with intrigue. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she asked, "So… how was last night?"

Arthur and Cecilia both froze, their faces reddening as they instinctively avoided her gaze. Adeline's chuckle deepened at their synchronized awkwardness.

"The birthday banquet was enjoyable, wasn't it?" Adeline continued, letting them off the hook—for now. "You danced with all three princesses again. Quite the charming Sovereign, aren't you?"

Arthur let out a small sigh of relief, though Cecilia remained pressed against his arm, her cheeks still tinged pink. Valerian watched the exchange with quiet amusement, taking another sip of his drink.

"You're at the Wall now, aren't you?" Adeline asked, her gaze appraising. "Have you heard about the epithet being discussed for you?"

Arthur tilted his head, curiosity evident. "What is it?"

"Personally, I thought 'Sword God' would suit you best, but it seems like that might go to Lucifer Windward," she replied with a slight shrug. "Then there's 'Twilight Emperor,' though it feels a bit close to Selene Kagu's title. But the top contender right now is 'The Zenith Blade.'"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at that. "That's… a weighty title."

"It is," Adeline agreed with a nod. "It implies you'll surpass everyone, even with a 'Sword God' in your generation. But well, you've earned it, haven't you?"

"Of course he has," Cecilia chimed in confidently, her crimson eyes glinting mischievously. "His sword is unmatched."

The innuendo in her voice was unmistakable. Quinn's glass shattered in his hand as his grip tightened reflexively, and Valerian barely suppressed a laugh, his shoulders shaking with restrained amusement.

Cecilia leaned closer to Arthur, her voice a soft whisper only he could hear. "That was intentional," she teased before letting go of his arm to focus on her plate, leaving him to manage the aftermath of her playful jab.