"Yedi, you are still too young to be receiving flowers as gifts."
Me?
"Are you serious?"
"Of course. Besides, the roses in the rose garden will soon be in full bloom; what reason is there to admire dead flowers? Such a sad and pitiful thing is not something one could ask of a tender-hearted young lady."
Yellodia was certain Heseudeo was prattling whatever came to his mind. Instead of arguing with Heseudeo, Yellodia turned to Edward with a sullen expression.
"I apologize, Baron. My brother has committed another grave discourtesy."
"I am, hm, unbothered."
Strangely, Edward had been visibly suppressing laughter for some time now. Even to her, Heseudeo's childish behavior was absurd and pathetic.
Yellodia wanted to find a mouse hole to crawl into out of sheer embarrassment.
"We'll be late for dinner. Let us hurry."
Heseudeo moved his feet, pretending to hurry for no reason. Yellodia, robbed of her gift, glared at him with wide eyes before following after him.
Brilliant light from the chandelier flooded the dining room.
Upon a long table seating twenty were neatly arranged silver forks and knives, pristine plates, napkins, and sparkling clear glasses of all sizes.
A magnificent candelabra burned at the table's center, and lush peonies bloomed in profusion within a blue glass vase.
Just then, Kiaseu, seated at the head of the table, welcomed Edward.
"Welcome, Baron. You must have had a hard journey."
"Thank you for the invitation, Young Duke."
"It's hardly a long way here. It's not as if he crossed a continent."
Fabian, seated to Kiaseu's right, muttered grumblingly, full of complaint, but no one paid him any heed. Edward offered Fabian a brief greeting as well.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, Lord Savie."
"My thoughts differ somewhat, Baron Adrian."
However, Fabian's provocation was glossed over by the butler.
"Baron, please sit here."
"My thanks."
The butler guided Edward to the seat across from Fabian and Heseudeo to the seat on Fabian's right.
Finally, the butler guided Yellodia to the seat facing Kiaseu—that is, the other place of honor.
'I've been had...!'
Yellodia looked at her seat in dismay, then glared across the table.
Her brothers had intended from the very beginning to seat only Yellodia herself far apart like a solitary island for the meal.
Since seating at a formal dinner was entirely the host's prerogative, she could not object and simply had to sit.
Kiaseu spoke up as if the thought had just occurred to him.
"The Duke has a prior engagement today and cannot join us. I hope you will be generous enough to understand, Baron."
"He must be quite busy. I understand."
Edward removed the white leather gloves from his hands, placed them on the plate to his left, unfolded his napkin, and laid it across his lap.
A servant smoothly collected Edward's gloves, poured an aperitif into his glass, and neatly presented cheese and crackers to accompany the drink.
Kiaseu, who had been watching Edward intently, nodded slightly and raised his glass.
"Welcome to the manor."
"Thank you for your hospitality, Young Duke."
The aperitif was limoncello, chilled cold.
Edward swallowed about half a mouthful of the sour, bitter drink meant to stimulate the appetite, set down his glass, and stifled a sigh inwardly.
Had he not learned noble dining etiquette from his subordinate officers beforehand, he would have found himself in trouble.
When news spread that he had been invited to a dinner at the Duke of Savie's mansion, the officers had all cheered, and they had fretted endlessly over teaching Edward the proper dining etiquette of the nobility.
"I made it through His Majesty the Emperor's dinner unscathed, so you only need to teach me the basics."
At Edward's words, his aides' clamor only grew worse.
"That was because you attended without knowing anything at the time. I have heard that His Majesty the Emperor is rather informal in private settings. These matters are generally far more demanding among nobles."
"Exactly! Is not the House of Savie one of the Empire's Four Great Ducal Houses? Naturally, we must observe every detail of dinner etiquette rigorously to avoid any fault."
And so began their grating meddling.
"You must wipe your hands with a napkin before eating any food."
"The wine glass must be held in the right hand, the water glass in the left."
"Uh, isn't it the other way around?"
"Both are left hand!"
"By Jesus, it's the right hand!"
Amidst the barrage of dining etiquette from all manner of dubious sources, the most helpful advice had come from Lieutenant Walter, who was born into a noble family.
"Usually, glasses are held in the right hand. And finishing all the food laid out on the table goes against etiquette. You must leave some behind."
"...Is that so?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. You must taste every dish without fail, yet give no impression of gluttony. Once a fork or knife has been used, you must not use it again, but wait for the servants to clear it."
"...."
"Ice cream and cake must be eaten with a fork, not a spoon, and for seeded fruits, you must bring them to your mouth unobtrusively, cover your lips with your hand, and discreetly spit out the seeds and peel."
The meddling, disguised as endless nagging, continued after that as well.
The Duke's servants served the meal in courses, beginning with soup, followed by appetizers, entrées, relevés, sweets, and dessert. Remarkably, the accompanying wine changed with each course.
Edward recalled Lieutenant Walter's words as he tasted each dish in small portions.
The mild turkey and pheasant suited his palate, while the strongly scented lamb and oyster appetizers did not. Nevertheless, he endeavored to savor the natural flavor of the ingredients, slowly placing each bite in his mouth, chewing, and swallowing.
Yet contrary to Edward's concerns, Fabian and Heseudeo's table manners were rather deplorable for men regarded as high nobility.
Fabian greedily emptied his meat dishes and asked for more, while Heseudeo consistently ate selectively, favoring only light and insubstantial dishes.
It was even common for them to reuse the utensils they had already used.
Among the brothers, only the eldest, Kiaseu, maintained the dignity of a high noble and cleaned his plate, but even he did not seem particularly strict about the manor's dining etiquette.
Unfortunately, Yellodia was seated too far away, so he could not see her eat.
Though they ate selectively, Fabian and Heseudeo drank with great enthusiasm, never failing to offer Edward a drink each time they raised their glasses.
"I overstepped last time. Please have a drink as a gesture of apology."
When Fabian said this, Edward did not refuse and emptied his glass.
Heseudeo chimed in as if he had been waiting for just that moment.
"Please accept my glass as well."
Edward did not refuse the liquor the two brothers thrust at him as if competing and drank it down.
True to his nature as a naval officer, Edward was fond of all kinds of alcohol without discrimination, and the wines produced by the House of Savie were so fragrant and rich in flavor they made one's eyes widen.
And so, he eventually reached the point of drinking it down like water.
"Impressive, hm, truly remarkable."
Perhaps his competitive spirit had flared over something trivial; Fabian's eyes blazed as he, too, emptied his glass every time Edward did.
Heseudeo also emptied his glass every other round, his eyes flashing at Edward with an uncomfortable intensity. It was a gaze brimming with ulterior motives.
"Ever since hearing the news of your victory at the Battle of Penikia, I have been most curious about you, Baron."
Naturally, a drinking gathering could not be without conversation to match, and Fabian set his glass down roughly to ask his question.
"Did you wish to become a naval officer from a young age?"
"I believe so. It must have been my father's influence."
"Was your father a naval officer as well?"
Fabian skillfully drew out stories of Edward's childhood, waiting for the intoxicated Edward to ramble and commit some grave blunder.
'Surely there must be some disgrace in his past that would disappoint Yellodia. As for breaking the engagement, I can always fabricate a suitable excuse.'
Edward, who had only just received his noble title, was an easy man to manipulate as one pleased.
However, contrary to his expectations, Fabian realized as time went on that something was going amiss.
Fabian learned that Edward's father, Lieutenant Colonel Rendeoseu, had loved his only son with a simple, frugal nature, though he was somewhat taciturn, and had taught Edward swordsmanship from a very young age.
He also learned that after losing his wife, Lieutenant Colonel Rendeoseu had taken eight-year-old Edward to the battlefield to raise him, and that the lieutenant colonel's sister, unable to bear watching this, had taken Edward away to raise him in an ordinary mountain village.
"Life at my aunt's manor in the countryside was pleasant enough in its own way. But I suppose I was happier living with my father. In the end, I defied my aunt's objections and entered the military academy."
"How old were you then?"
"I was sixteen."
"At sixteen, did you pass the academy exam for active duty?"
"I was lucky."
Edward answered blandly, as if he were not even boasting.
'Surely that's not something you should say so casually....'
Fabian, who knew full well how difficult the naval academy admissions process was—comparable to the knightly order's entrance examination—suddenly felt a constricting tightness in his chest.
Especially since he knew that passing the academy as a commoner was as difficult as threading a needle, he found Edward's nonchalant attitude impossible to understand.
Before long, the brothers found themselves deeply immersed in conversation with Edward, tilting their glasses.
Among them, Fabian, a Royal Guard knight, changed his expression after hearing that Edward had graduated early from the military academy—a school that normally took four years to complete—in only two years.
"Was your rank not Major during the final Battle of Penikia?"
"Yes. Even though promotion is inevitably faster in wartime, advancing three ranks in five years meant I was among the slowest in my commissioning class."
"Then you were specially promoted to Vice Admiral for leading the Battle of Penikia to victory. Is a Vice Admiral in the Navy not equivalent to a Senior General in the ground forces?"
"It is all thanks to His Majesty the Emperor's grace."
"Indeed."
Fabian nodded, his eyes sparkling. It was a point that inspired respect as a knight, and he could not help but admire it.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Fabian posed the question he had been most curious about.