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After excitedly telling her mother and little brother, Reanna could not wait to tell her father thus bolted out from the parlor room. Her mother aghast with Reanna’s unladylike behavior yelled at the back of her.

“No running on the halls! You are a lady, for Regis sake!”

“Save me! Sister!” Regulus yelled, still coddled by their mother.

Ignoring her mother's words, and grinning at Regulus pleas, she exited past the parlor doors and into the hallway. Turning left, she headed to the direction where the dining hall room was. Passing the plethora of family portraits of her family members, alive and deceased, she continued jogging onwards. A few household guards garbed in their black and crimson were guarding each intersection again who knows what. Reanna didn’t care, all she cared was seeing the face of her father when she told him the news.

The hall room doors were opening, giving Reanna and easy entrance into the dining room. Her father, Rembrandt Recrest, Baron of Registrar, was sitting at the very end of the table, on his varnished chair. Reanna’s father was a giant of a man, still in his middling years, and was quietly munching on a slab of leftover pork of midday. He was sneakily chewing a morsel, sometimes watching the entrance of the dining hall--for her mother.

Reanna’s father’s passion was hunting, and his one true love besides his wife--was eating. Halting her steps, she scrutinized her father who was conspicuously huddled up with his extra meal, chewing. Her father not yet spotting her was grinding his teeth on a very stubborn section of the pork. An Idea crossed Reanna’s mind, a brilliant and devious idea.

Standing up, proper-like, she huffed to change the tambour and inflection of her voice to that of her mother, and executed her master plan.

“Remmy!” Reanna said, mimicking her mother. “--How many times, have I told you to not gorged yourself without me!?”

Rembrandt panicked at Reanna’s imitation, huddled up to his pork, quickly swallowing the leftover meat whole, to leave no evidence of his crime. With a full mouth, Rembrandt replied. “Noosh,dearish, I didn’tsh gorge a thing without you my dearish.”

Rembrandt's face distorted at the last words of his reply. Confused on why Reanna’s mother, would also want to binge food with him, it was so unlady-like; Reanna deviously supposed.

Reanna, not spotting Stolwort, their House Seneschal, was quietly standing at the edge of the open dining hall doors, waiting on them.

“Lady Reanna Recrest Baron House of Registrar.” Stolwort glibly announced. Reanna aghast of being foiled by Stolwort, just stood there staring daggers at the glib old man silently towering at the side of the door.

Rembrandt finally looked up to gawk at his daughter. Her father’s face turned redder and redder with the ancestry rage of her forefathers. Ready to explode, her father than burst out roaringly laughing. “Gorged yourself without me!” Rembrandt roared chuckling at the thought of her mother, and his wife, secretly gorging pork together.

Reanna burst out laughing, together with her father, picturing the thought.

Remembering what brought her here earlier, she rushes up towards her father and gave him an enthusiastic hug. She dived her face into her father’s red rugged beard, a feature of her father, she always loved.

“What has gotten you so happy? Anna?” Rembrandt lovingly inquired. Only her father calls her with a nickname of Anna. With the majority of nobles in Regalia having their first name start with an ‘R’, it was unique to nicknamed her by the latter half of her name.

It was irritating to have all the nobles you knew to have the first letter of their name start with an ‘R’, but it was an honorific tradition and custom when notifying your noble heritage amongst the peerage. The tradition started millennia ago, when the first king of Regalia, influenced the courtiers of his court to have the first letter of their name change in honor of the Regalian God of the Hunt, Regis the watchful.

Brightly smiling, Reanna told her father the news.

“Papa,” She lovingly said, “--My Dexterity went up to Fifteen.”

Her father’s face went from loving to proud in an instance. Celebrating, he lifted her. Reanna’s father was a strong man, he’d have to be she’d reckon, with one of the highest Strength ratings among the peerage of Twenty. Lifting than hugging her, Rembrandt held his daughter lovingly against his big chest and round belly. The Red Fury of Registrar was as soft and loving as a gingered puppy at that moment.

The Embrace was stopped when Stolwort called out the next two guest who was coming through the dining hall doors.

“Baroness of Registrar, Rihanna of Regmont and Heir of House Recrest of Registrar, Regulus Recrest.” The house Seneschal proud announced. Reanna was annoyed with proud inflection when the house Seneschal announced her mother and brother. Her father, put her sols down onto the varnish wooden flooring than turn to look at his wife and son.

“Remmy! Have you been secretly gorging on food before Supper?” Rihanna of Regmont said to her husband.

Abash, and slightly guilty, her father lied. “No, no, my dear--nothing of the sort.”

“Nothing of the sort? Then why, my dear Remmy... do you have pork gristle stuck to your beard?”

Rembrandt looking down, trying to spot the slippery morsel that escaped his mouth; saw it then turned bright red at his lie. “Dear, I mean love, Love..I?”

Reanna not wanting any of it stepped away from her father. The look of defeat on her father’s eyes, made her feel pity for the big oaf. Maybe she should step in but… Reanna got to admit, her father was getting a bit rounder on the edges for a while now.

“Don’t Dear-Love me, Remmy.” Her mother annoyed, said.

“But-but..”

“That's it. Seneschal Stolwort, we will be having the winter regular today.”

“Yes, Baroness.” Stolwort ardently replied. “The ever faithful and reliable Stolwort” Reanna groaned.

“But it’s Summer!” Regulus groaned.

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“Regulus, your hair is unkempt. Come here.” Rihanna ordered. Her mother grabbed Regulus to brush his unkempt hair to something fastidiously proper.

“Now go take your place. You too dear.” Her mother directed her response to Reanna.

Reanna lamented at having another of those family suppers, where her mother would be looking over her shoulder when she fails to properly dip the silverware into the soup, and being judged for it. The thought of it, made Reanna slumped onto her chair she usually sits upon during Suppertime.

Reanna’s father having being chastised by her mother recently, was now cowed with her mother’s immaculate mothering. Reanna missed the days when Revon was here, always the one neatly and smartly argue with their mother’s antics.

The servants entered through the kitchen passage doors, with silver trays, atop were ebony porcelain plates, covered silver dome lids. When the dining plates were placed, each servant syncly lifted each dome lid to the sight of grassy vegetable soup to the applause of no one.

“Come now, eat your supper.” Reanna’s mother said, as she gracefully took a dip with her silverware spoon into the cold feeling soup.

Regulus gagging, when he took a gingerly sipped taste of the grassy colored soup. Reanna twirled her spoon around the plate, she was famished from all the energy she exerted earlier, but for the life of her, could not put the meal onto her lips.

“If you want to raise up your Constitution, you better be dining Supper.” Her mother encouraged.

Relenting, she took a big wallop of slimy soup into her mouth without a moment’s hesitation; regretting it instantly. Throwing it out, back into the soup. Reanna’s face soured at the notion of swallowing it back up again.

Reanna saw her father, Rembrandt looking down at the modestness of his meal than at the empty dish beside him where scrumptious pork was once was present. Her stomach groaned at the earlier memory of it.

Her father was right, eating before supper was essential for the living.

Reanna glowering down at the grassy vegetable finally relented again. Her mother was right about raising up your Constitution. She solemn up and began to scoop again spoonfuls of grassy slime into her mouth, in a very unlady-like demeanor.

“Reanna? Are you still wearing riding clothes and those hard ecky training leathers?” Her mother pointed, aghast. Reanna groaned that her mother finally noticed her attire.

“Oh yes, dear mother. To better guard me against the boys who would sought me.” She smartly quips. Reanna sarcasm flew over her mother’s head, but the derisive tone didn’t.

“Hey now, young lady--you need to speak with eloquence when you reply with that sense of humor of yours.” Her mother said, still aghast.

“Yes, mother…”

“And Remmy, I have not yet seen you take a spoon into your supper.”

“Yes, mother…” Her father said gloomily.

Her mother's face distorted into feigning anger. Both father and daughter guffaw at the look. Her mother, taking a deep sigh commented. “Why did I marry into a household of savages.”

Regulus holding his ladle turn to them. “I wish Revon was here. He would have at least made eating this, tolerable.”

“I wish I was dining the same soldier rations he would be probably devouring by now,” Rembrandt muttered, stirring his soup.

“If you were eating soldier’s rations daily, maybe you be a lot thinner.” Her mother quip back at the cowed man.

This conversation is going nowhere, Reanna thought. An idea sparked her mind at that moment, her brother, what would he be doing by now?

“Hey, Papa.” She called.

“Yes, Anna?”

“Revon is a Major in the Recrest Red Army, right?”

“Yes, and he does not have time to be lollygagging around like us humble folks.” Her father griped. Reanna surmised that her father misses the freedom of being on a campaign; he was called the Red Fury for nothing.

“I heard Revon’s command, suffered a major loss? Is that true?” Reanna asked, she was curious about the answered and worried about the result.

“Where did you hear that?” Rembrandt asked a bit rigidity. Not having a ready reply to the question, she didn’t say anything.

“No matter.” Her father relented. “Yes, sadly it is true and it was no fault of your brother, Revon.”

“So what happened?” Regulus inquired, also curious. He was always curious, especially if it had anything to do with warfare. Muskets, rifles, swords, lancers and knights, all a boy could have wished for really.

Rembrandt swirling his silverware around the dish, he began to tell what had occurred in said battle…

“Revon was commanding the right flank of the Border Recrest Army. They were lightly skirmishing Baron’s Rensfor left flank forces, leaving the whole battle in a stalemate of sorts.”

“Than how come the major loss?”

“Well, the thing is, we had a scouting dispute with the conscripted regular scouts and the Rhaodian advisory board that was delegated by the Emperor.”

Reanna’s curiosity peaked at this point, this was irregular in a normal uniform, especially when there are foreign influencers on the battlefield.

“The Rhaodian delegates advised us there were going to be attacked on the rear when they next push. Having catered to their whims, your brother took half the scouts to scout back this imagery force that would soon assault him.”

“Leaving his flank exposed?” Regulus excitedly said, like a student answering Tonselwift.

“It wasn’t exposed per-say, but there weren’t enough scouts outrun the two-thousand heavily armored lancers that assault the two Regiments of foot that was placed there.”

Her mother held out a gasp, she was also listening intently to the discussion. Maybe her mother wasn’t as anal as Reanna thought.

“So what was the tally?” Regulus asked, like the death of men were just number for the history books.

“We lost nearly two-thousand men, down to the man. It was a brutal assault. It could have been more, if not one of the Under-Captain who took command of a squad to spearhead the charge of the Rensfor Lancers, that gave time for Revon to do a full retreat to the center forces.”

“So did that Under-Captain die?” Regulus sensing his father mood, add grief into his words.

Rembrandt paused for the briefest of moments. No one was going to ask, so Reanna did.

“What was his name?” She asked.

“Raicer Lacea…” Her father said, slightly shakily. Their mother gasps at the name. Lacea, where did she hear that name from, it was such a familiar name.

“He was a brave sort.” Her father said. “He saved the whole left battalion, with that sacrifice…” Rembrandt continued.

“I’m sorry to hear that father,” Regulus said. “To sacrifice ourselves for their fellows is a noble pursuit indeed…”

Rembrandt was gazing off somewhere unfamiliar, he was unresponsive to his younger son’s remark.

“Raicer Lacea…” He softly muttered.

“Rembrandt…” Rihanna said to her husband with a soothing tone.

A racket disturbs the melancholy scene around the dining room hall. The house Seneschal Stolwort went to closed doors leading to the hallways. As Stolwort opened the doors, recognition sparked through Reanna memories. Her face paled at the heavily armored man who entered the dining room.

Stolwort slightly flustered and outraged at the man who interrupted his Lord’s supper asked.

“Who are you Ser?”

The man plated in black steel, with gold trims on the edge, paused at the lanky Seneschal.

It was Balic, the Rhaodian guard who came with the priest delegate. The man lifted up his visor to his stone cold and calculating face, he then took an insidious grin in front of the host before.

“Good evening, Lord Baron Recrest, and Lady Baroness. Sorry to have interrupted your supper but--”

“--Who are you and what are you doing at my house.” Reanna’s father was angry, angry like she has never seen him before. Her father heavily stood up with the silverware spoon, tightly gripped in his huge fist.

“We are here to kill the pest, that has infested this house. Milord.” Balic sneered, with a fake bow with a cruel steel Warhammer in his gauntlet fist.

“How dare--” Stolwort was about to continue, if not before his cranium was crushed by the spike of the oncoming Warhammer.