The grand banquet hall quieted for a heartbeat as Travis entered, accompanied by Duchess Melantha. A hush of surprise and curiosity passed through the aristocrats, with many young noblemen flashing him glances steeped in quiet envy.
To them, Melantha wasn't merely a duchess—she was their elegant ideal, revered in silence. For Travis to casually walk in beside her, holding her hand no less, was enough to stir a storm of emotions across the crowd.
Travis, ever perceptive, caught on instantly.
(So they're jealous... huh. What a strange and thrilling feeling.)
In his previous life, Joe had been too focused on survival, training, and duty to relish such moments. This world, Edhas, had offered him something else—an opportunity to revel in what he once missed.
From across the hall, Duke White Sean narrowed his eyes. The Duke didn't like what he saw one bit—his son, now ten, attracting attention from a woman as powerful and politically volatile as Melantha Samara.
"Brat," he called out, his tone just sharp enough to draw attention. "You're late for your own banquet. Where are your manners?"
Before Travis could respond, Melantha gracefully stepped forward.
"Duke White, forgive him. It was I who delayed him—he was showing me around the estate." Her voice was calm and collected, but only Travis noticed the faint glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
Travis bowed politely to the Duke. "It was an honor to accompany Lady Melantha."
The tension in the room eased just a little, but murmurs continued behind fanned hands and folded arms.
"Very well," the Duke said, smiling a little too sharply. "Come now, the gifts are waiting."
Travis followed his father across the hall. Laid out on a golden table were dozens of ornate boxes—offerings from nobility, sects, and influential families.
As Travis unwrapped the presents one by one, his eyes scanned the contents with detached curiosity. Most of the gifts were extravagant yet shallow—gem-studded ornaments, engraved gold coins, even some ornamental weapons. The intent was clear: appeasement wrapped in mockery.
(They think I don't see through this? How amusing.)
Then his hand paused over a small silver-wrapped package. His mother Candace approached with a proud smile. "This one is from your father and me."
Travis opened it to reveal a high-grade storage ring. He smiled warmly, genuinely touched by the thoughtful gift. Hugging his mother briefly and bowing to his father, he kept the ring close.
Moments later, Melantha approached with her own gift. It was another ring—less ornate, but practical. Inside were weapons of respectable craftsmanship, each tailored for quick use and precision.
Travis smiled and whispered, "Thank you for this. I hope to return the favor on your next birthday, my lady."
Melantha, ever poised, merely smiled. But her slightly flushed cheeks betrayed her amusement—and perhaps something more.
Later that evening, the senior members of House Sean gathered in a private lounge to discuss kingdom politics.
White Sean spoke gravely. "House Eldria and several key aristocrats have sided with Crown Prince Amaris. House Samara appears to be backing the third prince."
A senior advisor nodded. "Then the second prince remains aligned with only one family and a sect. Not weak... but not dominant either."
The decision on whom to support would weigh heavily on the future of House Sean.
Suddenly, the door creaked open. Travis entered with a tray of refreshments, flanked by two estate servants.
"I thought everyone might be tired after the banquet," he said cheerfully. "So I brought drinks—with some light energy-replenishing herbs for refreshment."
White Sean frowned, but waved the servants in after inspecting the drinks. "Very well. You may stay. Quietly."
As the advisors sipped, Travis observed them silently, his expression serene. Inwardly, though, his thoughts were far more calculated.
(Drink up, my dear elders. I've prepared quite the gentle influence... nothing harmful, but you'll soon be more agreeable. Just a little help for the discussions ahead.)
Later that night, Travis returned to his chambers. To his shock, he found his mother Candace already there, seated calmly on his bed, a blanket draped around her shoulders.
"You're leaving tomorrow," she said softly. "I just wanted to see you off... and make sure you're okay."
He blinked, still surprised by her visit. "You didn't have to wait, mother."
She smiled and took his hand gently. "Of course I did. You've grown so quickly, and soon you'll be far from home. A mother worries."
He hesitated, then embraced her warmly. "Thank you... I'll make you proud."
They sat in quiet conversation for a while, Candace occasionally brushing his hair back from his face, her eyes filled with both affection and concern.
As she stood to leave, Travis asked one last question with a teasing glint in his eye. "Mother... are you sure you're not a little jealous I spent so much time with Duchess Melantha today?"
Candace blinked, then laughed softly. "Should I be?"
He grinned. "Maybe. I mean, everyone else was."
She shook her head with fond amusement, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. "Goodnight, Travis. And take care."
As the door closed behind her, Travis lay back on the bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a satisfied smile.
(Jealousy, envy, admiration... I've got a long way to go, but at least I've started to shake the board.)