The sun had climbed high by the time breakfast finally graced the long table, pouring in warm gold through tall, lattice windows. The air was thick with the mingled scents of hearth-baked bread, thick slices of peppered ham, bowls of steaming spiced lentils, and bright, tart apples stewed with honey and cinnamon. Fresh cream and a pitcher of wild berry juice waited beside rustic stacks of oatcakes, and in the center, a dish of scrambled eggs was crowned with a modest sprinkle of green herbs and sharp, white cheese.

Tristan moved quietly, ensuring plates were filled and glasses never emptied. Even the often-absent maids, cheeks still a little flushed from their earlier spying, hovered at the edges, sneaking glances at their guests and at Celestine's content smile.

Mia, wide-eyed with delight, sat tucked against Ivan, holding a forkful of ham and eggs toward his mouth. "Just try it! It's so good, I promise," she urged.

Ivan, a little red in the ears but playing along, opened up and let her feed him, grinning as he chewed. "Not bad, Mia. I could get used to this—might never eat with my own hands again!"

Elsie, witnessing this, gasped and clapped. "Elsie thinks Ivan is a prince now! Ivan has many servants, yes yes."

Aria arched a brow. She glanced from Mia and Ivan's shared laughter to Kaiser, who sat impassive, his posture perfectly straight, face unreadable as ever. A spark of mischief flickered in her eyes.

She stabbed a piece of ham with her fork, turned to Kaiser, and, trying her best to look dignified, offered it up to his mouth. "Here, big guy. You can try it too. Open up!"

Kaiser gave her a flat, cold look, his crimson eyes boring through her as if he could not fathom the absurdity. He didn't move. Aria, undeterred, leaned closer, holding the fork right in front of his lips. "Come on, just a little bite. Don't be shy—everyone else is doing it."

The silence around the table thickened, Ivan and Mia both stifling laughter. Celestine, hiding her smile behind her napkin, looked away. Tristan's stoic face twitched, but only slightly.

Kaiser did not yield. "I am not a child, Aria."

Aria just grinned wider, her persistence unbroken. "You're acting like one. Now, open up or I'll—"

She reached forward with the fork, trying to nudge his lips open. He didn't budge. The fork missed its mark, smearing a dab of egg across his cheek instead.

The whole table burst into laughter—Mia giggling, Ivan almost choking on his eggs, and even Elsie's laughter pealing out like bells. Aria clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes huge. "Oops… Sorry, Kaiser."

Kaiser wiped his cheek with the corner of a napkin, expression as stony as ever, though there was a flicker of something, maybe amusement, maybe resignation, beneath his deadpan glare. "You have one chance to rethink your life, Aria," he said, voice quiet as a threat.

Aria just winked. "Maybe next time you'll eat when I tell you to."

Celestine let her laughter fade into a soft, delighted sigh. "I think breakfast tastes better when everyone's happy."

Even Tristan finally gave in, his lips twitching into the ghost of a real smile as he poured more berry juice into the cups.

Kaiser watched quietly as laughter flowed freely around the table, his face a smooth mask, eyes coldly analytical beneath the superficial layer of amusement he'd allowed himself to wear. The antics around him, Aria's playful teasing, Ivan's bashful amusement, and Mia's gentle, unfiltered joy all appeared, at least on the surface, painfully...

'Childish…' he thought to himself, rolling the word over his tongue as if tasting its bitter undertones. It was, perhaps, the most accurate description of their behavior. He watched Mia flick a crumb of oatcake at Ivan, who pretended offense before chuckling warmly. He saw Elsie, eyes bright with wonder, watching everything as if witnessing a royal feast. And Aria, stubbornly clinging to her role as his caretaker, wore her laughter openly, loudly, defiantly, entirely oblivious to his silent criticism.

How utterly childish indeed, Kaiser repeated internally, but then hesitated, reconsidering his judgment. They were children. At least, compared to him.

The realization settled heavily in his chest, almost uncomfortably so. His own lifespan, if it could still be measured as such, had stretched beyond normal human norm. He'd lived for a century in a single body, seen kingdoms rise and fall, and walked the blood-soaked paths of countless battlefields. Each moment in his existence had been sharpened by war and struggle, hammered into shape by duty.

And yet now, he sat at a breakfast table amidst people whose greatest joy seemed to be found in the simplest of moments. It felt absurdly out of place, like a seasoned general thrown into a nursery, forced to indulge in innocence he could never truly reclaim.

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He shifted slightly, leaning back into the chair, eyes momentarily drifting to the window. The world outside was bright, deceptively peaceful, offering a stark contrast to his turbulent thoughts. 'How the hell did I even end up here?'

As the question hung heavily within his mind, another face slipped quietly into his thoughts, a certain knight from Nebrosa, one whose gruff voice and broad laughter once punctuated his daily existence. Zoran, he thought, the ghost of a sardonic smile tugging briefly at his lips.

Zoran, the second strongest knight of Nebrosa, a man who respected few and mocked even fewer, yet reserved a special brand of merciless teasing specifically for Kaiser. The thought brought a strange blend of irritation and fondness.

'If he could see me now,' Kaiser mused dryly, recalling Zoran's deep, rumbling laugh and piercing blue eyes, 'He'd never let me live this down.' Kaiser Dios, the Supreme General of Nebrosa, the man feared and revered in equal measure, sitting quietly at breakfast, smeared with eggs by a young girl, and listening to children giggle like they had no greater worries in life.

He almost smiled, but the expression vanished before it could truly form. Yet, he reflected, this humiliation had a purpose. A man like Zoran might mock him, but Kaiser knew better. There were sacrifices to be made in every campaign.

His gaze slid toward Celestine, watching her carefully now, observing her subtle shifts of expression, noting the brighter sparkle of her golden eyes and the genuine curve of her lips. She laughed openly, but Kaiser saw something beyond mere amusement. This laughter was pure, unburdened by sorrow or guilt, at least in this fleeting moment.

'It had worked.' he realized with a faint thrill of satisfaction. The kindness he had shown her had pierced through the grief that shadowed her. People trust those who evoke good memories, positive emotions, he reminded himself coldly. Kindness, however superficial, created a debt, not of gold or blood, but of gratitude. People, especially those like Celestine, who felt emotions so intensely, rarely realized when their gratitude turned into obligation.

If he asked for nothing, Kaiser knew, Celestine would feel even more compelled to repay him. Kindness was a weapon as sharp and deadly as any other, provided one knew how to wield it. And Kaiser was nothing if not a master at wielding every tool available to him.

'Sabel…' his thoughts darkened abruptly at the name, the very image of the man flashing clearly through his mind. Kindness alone would never lead Kaiser to him. Mercy and softness had their limits, and in this quest, those limits would come swiftly.

Yet kindness might buy him something more subtle and infinitely valuable—information. Information on Sabel's whereabouts. Information on weaknesses, vulnerabilities. Kaiser was willing, even eager, to play this game of subtle manipulations, these gestures disguised as kindness.

He found it bitterly amusing, perhaps even ironic, how the world truly worked. Violence, intimidation, coercion—these were powerful and satisfying, their effectiveness immediate and undeniable.But kindness, even feigned kindness, could open doors no blade could pierce, secure allies no threats could bind, and earn a trust that no amount of force could ever reaffirm or compel.

Kaiser never sought out cruelty for its own sake. But neither did he deny its power. Yet today, he knew this moment of warmth was but a means to an end. He would use it gladly, even if a small, stubborn part of him found this particular approach as beneath him.

For Sabel, for the betrayal that scarred him deeper than any blade could, he would bear any burden, wear any mask, and offer any kindness, false or otherwise.

His train of thought was abruptly shattered by Celestine's cheerful voice, the sweetness of her laughter cutting through his contemplations like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Celestine laughed softly, gently patting Elsie's hand. "Of course, dear Elsie. I promised you a safe haven, and I keep my promises." Her gaze flicked briefly to Kaiser, almost conspiratorial. "Though, speaking of promises, I nearly forgot. There is a small complication."

Kaiser raised an eyebrow, interest immediately piqued. "Complication?" he prompted, cool as ever.

Celestine nodded, her smile turning sly. "Indeed. The Liberatorium expects certain formalities. I must accept a quest by tomorrow, or I'll risk losing the support of some influential parties. And, as you're all my guests…" she trailed off, letting the meaning hang.

Aria leaned forward, suddenly serious, all teasing forgotten. "A quest? Like an adventure? Are we gonna fight monsters?"

Ivan chuckled, but Kaiser's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He weighed the risk, the opportunity. If Celestine owed him now, her debt would only deepen with his help.

"Tell us more," Kaiser invited, setting aside his previous thoughts. His voice was smooth, cold steel. "What exactly does this quest entail, Celestine?"

Celestine met his gaze evenly. "That depends. It could be dangerous, or diplomatic—often both. But whatever it is, it will not be easy. And I will need your help."

Kaiser inclined his head. "Very well. Tell us everything."

Before Celestine could answer, Elsie piped up, fingers drumming an odd little rhythm on the table. Her eyes were too bright, her smile just a little too wide.

"Ooooh! Elsie loves quests! Will there be monsters with ten heads, or puzzles that eat you if you're not clever?" She giggled, rocking back in her chair, eyes shining. "Elsie's never been to a Liberatorium, but Elsie's read all about them! So many rules, so many secrets, so many ways to earn Sul hehehe…"

The table fell silent for half a beat, as if not quite sure how to respond.

Then, as if suddenly remembering herself, Elsie clapped her hands together and beamed at Celestine. "Princess promised Elsie a haven, and Elsie promises to help, yes yes! Elsie will make the monsters run away screaming!" She flashed Kaiser a sideways glance, just for a moment, something calculating flickered behind her childlike excitement. "But if the quest is boring, Elsie's going to start making her own fun. You've all been warned~!"

Ivan snorted, Aria grinned, and even Tristan's lips twitched.

Celestine let out a soft sigh of relief, grateful for the break in tension. "I really doubt it could become boring with you in it, dear Elsie..."

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