In a lavish private ceremony that exuded opulence and grandeur, Sigurd stood before the assembled dignitaries of the Republic, his heart pounding with a mix of glory and trepidation. The hall was adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of valor and triumph. Their vibrant colors wove tales of heroes long past. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and it mingled with the fragrant aroma of exotic flowers that adorned every corner of the room. Chandeliers lined a narrow strip down the center of the ceiling overhead, bathing the hall in the soft glow of its candlelight.

The King himself, resplendent in his regal attire, raised a goblet in a toast to the soldiers, “Here they are, the returning heroes! This banquet is for you!” His voice, sonorous with authority and reverence, reached every nobleman in the hall.

As everyone around them raised their glasses in unison, the King added, “So enjoy the evening, partake of the food and drink, and, after the party, you are all welcome to stay the night in our guest rooms! You’ve earned it!”

Sigurd spared no time in heading to one of the many tables lined with platters aplenty and served himself a mighty helping of food. As he sloppily snatched offerings from each of the plates to mount more to his own, he could feel the higher class staring daggers in his direction. It was a stark contrast to the undying adoration he felt moments ago courtesy of the regular townsfolk. Their mask of righteousness was undone through their toxic whispers; he sensed their envy, admiration, curiosity, and animosity mingling into a cocktail of disgust with every glance.

Despite the haze of negativity around him, Sigurd filled his gullet all the same, blindly ignoring them in favor of the delicious food and drink that entered his stomach.

‘This is so good!’ Joyce thought, awash in a sea of worldly delight. ‘What the fuck. Why didn’t we ever get such recompense in my world? I think I’m gonna love it here if this is what awaits me..!’

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As the soldier-hailed-hero chowed down and stuffed his cheeks like an overgrown squirrel readying for winter, the Prime Minister approached him from behind. Accompanying him was none other than the King. With an unwavering gaze, he spoke of Sigurd's bravery and dedication to the Republic.

“And this is him, Your Majesty,” Sigurd heard the Prime Minister say.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Sigurd turned to face them, his cheeks comically full to the brim as he was still chewing. His face was a mess, stained by various sauces from the dishes he’d served himself. He froze and chewed more slowly.

The King burst out in laughter, “Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself!” His bushy mustache filled his grinning face.

In a panic, Sigurd struggled to swallow the exaggerated amount of food in his mouth. To ease the process, he gulped down a large swig of wine. Embarrassed, he gulped and barely voiced out, “Your Majesty.”

“I told you, I had a hunch he’d be a special one,” the Prime Minister chimed in, looking at the King whilst he pointed at Sigurd.

“Indeed!” The King resoundingly agreed, adding, “My apologies, young Sigurd. It was not my intention to interrupt you in the middle of your hearty feast, and I shan’t keep you longer!”

“No apologies necessary, my liege,” Sigurd nervously looked at them both.

“That said, please do try and not go overboard tonight. I’ve got an announcement to make, but this is neither the time nor the place, so tomorrow we will meet to more calmly discuss it!”

With that, both the King and the Prime Minister nodded in unison and walked away to mingle with the rest of the nobles.

‘An announcement, huh? Maybe I will get a crappy medal after all,’ Joyce pondered, thereafter shrugging her shoulders. ‘Ah well, no use thinking about it now. Time to keep eating!’

And so, Sigurd and the rest of the retinue ate, drank, and laughed the night away in celebration, enjoying their brief faux stint as members of the nobility. The following morning...

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He stood in shock, wondering what was going on. The words had passed through one ear and out the other.

“Huh..?” Sigurd blurted out, flabbergasted by what he had just heard.

"I said you've now been given the title of Baron," the king voiced from his seat.