“My lady, your parents have requested you to have breakfast with them this morning.”
Pre-baptismal children are not allowed to eat with their family. Instead, they take their food alone under the watchful eye of a retainer or etiquette teacher. In this world, you aren’t considered fully human until baptized. Worse, as a recent survivor of Ashen Scales, the only thing I am allowed to eat was porridge! Not only will this be the first time I eat with my parents, it will also be the first time I actually get to taste this world’s food!
As I am born in the Fifth Moon of Silver Star, my baptism is not scheduled to occur for another two and a half weeks. Part of me recoils in fear at the thought of eating with my parents before the allotted time. I have no context for many cultural things in this world, despite Dragon Fantasy XXIV being my only outlet while I was sick. The memories of my current life lack the acuity of an adult’s memories and don’t help at all.
Amelie picks a much nicer dress than I normally wear, a white muslin dress with elaborate floral embroidery along the edges. “Now, because it is white, you will have to be extra careful not to spill food on your dress, understand? This is to show your mother and father how graceful you are."
Thankfully, no typical fantasy ornate poofy noble dresses exist in Xete’s fashion circles. Instead, embroidery determines the wealth and stature of a person. I hope I won’t have to learn embroidery. Some of the noble stories I read in my former life make embroidery out to be some sort of ultimate noble skill. This body is built for better stuff, like swords and magick!
Amelie braids my long black hair and winds it around my head so it looks like a miniature crown. She opens a jewelry box and sticks several round sapphire hair jewels in the braid. Just by looking at myself I feel more capable and mature. Though the hairstyle isn’t the fashion of the future me, my turquoise eyes have a sharpness to them even in childhood. With just a furrowed brow and an upturned lip, the villainess will appear. Not that I will ever do that on purpose. With my high cheekbones, narrow nose, and heart-shaped face, it’s easy to see how villainous I could appear to other people.
But, despite these stereotypical villainous traits, I still feel like a cute girl. So long as I never turn evil, the world will not know the horror of Game Lucina.
My moccasin-like shoes tap on the marble floor, double in time with Amelie. In short time, she stops in front of two double doors. “Remember all you’ve been taught.” She pushes the doors open. “Announcing Lucina Maelle.”
Father and Mother turn their gaze away from each other at me. Of the two, father’s gaze seems more warm. Mother’s could slice a person down to their quick. My villainess traits definitely come from her side of the family. They are seated at a table large enough to seat twenty and the spread is far larger than two people could ever hope to eat.
First things first, all noble ladies must curtsy and give a greeting. Though my legs aren’t quite strong enough to hold the position without wobbling, I try to maintain a steady pose. “I thank you for having me before officially ordained. It is an honor to be considered.”
I wait beside a chair for a butler to pull it out for me, and then hold out my arms to be lifted and seated. Proper little ladies did not climb.
“Perfection,” Father compliments. “See, darling, you had nothing to worry about. Her mannerisms are impeccable for her age.”
I glance between Father and Mother, seeking an explanation for the early summons. It is rude for children to address their parents without being addressed first. It seems no matter world I live in, the nobles must abide by silly rules.
Mother put her hand on her chest and heaves a sigh. “I know, but to have her first family dinner be with the king… What unfortunate luck she has.”
The king is coming? But if he’s in Xete for the first dinner, wouldn’t that mean he would be attending my baptism?
“Prince Alexious just went through his baptism three months ago. Any mistakes Lucina made would more likely remind him of his son than offend him.”
Mother’s lips press together as though she held back something. Her slender fingers wrap around each other, knuckles white. “I doubt that child is allowed to make mistakes.”
Prince Alexious can only be Emperor Alexious from the game. I can only imagine what that heinous villain was like as a child. I bet he’s the type of insufferable posh brat that uses his royal lineage as justification to for criminal behaviour. And as a duchess, I would be expected to play nice with him. Worse, I would have to pretend to hang off his every word just because he had “prince” before his name.
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“I don’t see why we couldn’t have delayed their meeting until the beginning of the Crimson Leaves.”
Father frowns. “The only explanation I can think of is they want to confirm her stats in person to ensure we won’t lie.”
Confirm my stats? My ears perk up. Does that mean there are actual levels here?
This. Changes. Everything.
An electric thrill rattles through the sinews of my muscles. If Game Lucina is powerful enough to be an end-boss character, her starting stats must be good. And if they’re good, Father and Mother will want to develop those talents into something great. Which means sword and magick lessons!
“House Maelle, lie to the crown?” Mother’s petite nose scrunches up. “I despise how King Yuri refuses to trust us after all we’ve done for him!”
“We have my brother to thank for that one.” Father wrenches his hands together. His jaw sets. “I believe my efforts have not been for naught. He is coming to see Lucina’s baptism personally when a messenger would suffice.”
“To think you had to prove yourself!” She spits the words as though they are acid. “You were forced to execute Ealis yourself, is that not enough?”
Father’s mustache twitches as though he’s eating his words. “Darling, not in front of Lucina.”
I want to say that as a former sixteen-year-old I understand every word and on any other circumstance I would participate in their political talk but unfortunately the body of this girl also needs food and digging into that beautiful spread in front of me would be a far more interesting proposition than hearing about politics.
A basket of croissant-like rolls in the center of the table whispers to try them first. My mouth waters just imagining the rich buttery taste. Next to the basket are sliced orapples (something akin to oranges), neimonite seeds (something like pomegranates), and roselles (an edible flower that looked like a rose but had the texture of gelatin). There is also a small bowl of white cream-like substance that could either be their version of yogurt or something like cream cheese. In the game, both look like that so there isn’t any real way for me to tell until I stick it in my mouth.
And how I suffer in desire to stick it into my mouth!
All those hours of crafting food in the game and now they lay in front of me, but I can hardly take a bite because of stupid noble customs!
When the words out of Father’s mouth aren’t a prayer to the Mother of Us All, I nearly burst into tears. How much longer do I wait?
“You slept in rather late this morning.” His voice is warm and deep with a sweetness like honey. A slight rasp also tinges his tone, probably from the tobacco I smelled on him when I first woke up in this world. “Does your body still feel weak from the Ashen Scales?”
“Or were you having a good dream?” Mother adds as she picks up a roll and cuts it in half, spreading the white stuff inside.
It must be cheese! How many nights did I fantasize about what the foods in Dragon Fantasy XXIV would actually taste like? Especially compared to the nasty hospital food I had to eat, or worse, the times when I didn’t eat and only had nutrition tubes. The in-game models always looked amazing. And now I can taste orapples and roselles in real life!
She places the roll on a plate along with several pieces of fruit and passes it to me. I take a big bite of the roll first.
Amazing!
The buttery soft roll melts in your mouth! The cheese has a unique tang to it like goat cheese. The roselle jiggles in my hand. I tear off a petal and stick it in my mouth.
Amazing!
It’s like roses, vanilla, and strawberries mixed together in a symphony of flavors! A high-class dessert in a single bite! I tear off another petal, and another, and another, in quick succession. These are better than I could have ever imagined!
Both Father and Mother stare at me with abject horror.
“Manners are impeccable, are they?” Mother repeats in a small voice.
“She just survived Ashen Scales. She must be hungrier than normal.”
“Slow down!” Mother scolds. “Use your fork! One small bite at a time!”
I look to the side of my plate and see a small, two-pronged fork similar to the dessert forks from my old life. “Forgive me,” I mumble.
“Let her eat, my love. We will invite her for dinner and determine if this was a one-time affair.”
I stop chewing and look up at Father who winks.
“With all due respect, darling, the king and queen are coming in less than three weeks.”
I stab the fork into the biggest piece of orapple on my plate and pop it into my eager mouth.
Bad idea.
Orapples are disgusting!
They taste like rotten grapefruit!
I gag and spit the fruit back onto the plate.
“Lucina!” Mother’s shrill tone could shatter glass. “What on earth is wrong with you? What have those teachers been doing?”
“Orapples suck!” I retch and chug the cool glass of water, washing the rotten taste off my tastebuds.
Mother put her hand over her mouth.
Father’s lips press together and his shoulders shake in an obvious attempt to hold his laughter.
“It’s not funny!” Mother hisses, slapping Father’s bicep. She glares at me. “You are not fit to eat at a commoner’s table! Sickness or no, you will be studying etiquette from the moment you wake to the moment you slumber!”
Etiquette lessons are boring. I want to go out and explore Xete! I gaze at Father with doe eyes.
Alas, my attempt at cuteness fails.
Father shakes his head. “Your mother has a point.”
I cross my arms and pout.
It is not effective.
“Come now, finish your breakfast,” Father orders.
“Properly,” Mother adds. “Pick up your fork and show me how a lady bites.”
They have a point. Those roselles won’t eat themselves!