Royal Breakfast at Dawn

The morning sun gently poured into Aethyr’s room as he finished tidying up, the scent of fruity and flowery soap still lingering in the air from his shower. He was adjusting the last details when a sudden knock interrupted his routine. He opened the door to find an unexpected guest standing at the threshold: the former queen of Lumar, Eliziah, her regal presence filling the space as two servants stood beside her, one pushing a cart overflowing with sumptuous food.

Aethyr, caught off guard, stammered, "H-h-hello... M-morning."

"Good morning, Aethyr," Eliziah greeted him with a warm smile, her voice gentle but commanding. "May I offer you some Lumar cuisine to start your day?"

Aethyr, unable to resist the tantalizing aroma that already filled his senses, grinned widely. "Y-yes, of course! That smells amazing."

With a wave of her hand, Eliziah signaled her servants to set up a table near the window. The cool morning breeze floated in, mixing with the scent of freshly baked bread, exotic fruits, and spiced meats, transforming the room into something that felt almost heavenly. Aethyr, however, felt slightly embarrassed by the state of his room.

"Sorry for the mess, my lady," he muttered.

Eliziah chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling. "Boys' rooms are meant to be messy—it’s in their blood. Although..." She raised an eyebrow playfully. "It seems the older they get, the better they become at making even bigger messes."

Aethyr laughed, relieved that her lightheartedness dispelled his nervousness. "True, I can’t argue with that!"

Eliziah laughed as well, a musical sound that softened the room. “You remind me of my husband,” she began, her voice turning nostalgic. “Whenever he searched for something, the room would end up looking like a battlefield—cloaks, boots, armor...”

Her voice faltered as her gaze settled on the neatly folded cloak at the foot of Aethyr’s bed, her eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. Aethyr noticed the shift in her expression, the way her cheerful demeanor flickered as her memories weighed heavily upon her.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“My lady, are you alright?" Aethyr asked, concern filling his voice. "Why are you tearing up?"

Eliziah quickly wiped the corner of her eye, offering a strained smile. “Oh, it’s nothing. The wind must have irritated my eyes.”

Aethyr, unsure whether to believe her, gestured to the window. “Shall I close it?”

“No, no,” she replied, regaining her composure. “It’s fine. Let’s focus on the meal, shall we?”

She began serving Aethyr with a motherly care, piling his plate with delicacies from the cart and refilling his glass with freshly squeezed juice before he even had the chance to take a sip. It felt surreal, the former queen of Lumar attending to him with such tenderness, as if she were hosting him not as a guest but as something more—like family.

As they ate, Eliziah’s mind wandered. Her gaze kept drifting back to the cloak. It was the very same cloak she had wrapped around a tiny Aethyr so many years ago, shielding him when he was just an infant. She had hidden him in that sacred shrine, covering him with her cloak to protect him from the chaos that engulfed their world at the time. The memory of the fire—the fire that had consumed everything—rushed back to her. The shrine had burned down, but her cloak, imbued with a mother’s desperate love and hope, had miraculously shielded Aethyr from the flames.

Now, seeing that cloak again after all these years, the memories overwhelmed her—the fear, the hope, the sacrifice. And here he was, sitting before her, no longer the helpless child she had hidden, but a grown man—a hero, though he didn’t fully realize it yet.

In that moment, as Aethyr devoured the food with a smile, Eliziah's tears weren't of sorrow, but of pride and bittersweet joy. She had saved him once, and in doing so, she had saved a future far greater than she could have ever imagined.

As they ate in comfortable silence, a peaceful warmth settled over the room. To Eliziah, this breakfast was more than just a simple meal. In her mind’s eye, she was transported back to her palace in Lumar, where the three of them—Aethyr, her late husband, King Thorigg Whitemane, and herself—would sit at their grand dining table, sharing in quiet moments of joy. The clinking of cutlery, the sound of their laughter, the warmth of being together as a family.

This ordinary moment, here in Aethyr’s small room, was the closest she had come to recapturing that long-lost happiness. For just a brief time, it felt as though Thorigg was still there with them, sitting beside her, and her heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow and contentment.

"Thank you, Aethyr," she whispered quietly, her voice barely audible as she gazed out of the window. "For this moment."

Aethyr glanced up from his meal, uncertain of the deeper meaning behind her words, but smiled nonetheless. "It's my pleasure, my lady."

Though the moment passed silently, it left an indelible mark on both their hearts—a shared sense of belonging that lingered long after the food was finished.