Sudrath Manor, Sol-Regis Capital. Dining Room – Morning.
The breakfast atmosphere, usually peaceful, felt like a military court martial today.
Duchess Aurelia sat at the head of the table. In front of her wasn't food, but a mountain of colorful envelopes.
"Roland. Rhea. Rianor." Aurelia called their names in a low tone.
The three children in the Capital gulped. They knew that tone. That was the "The First Lady will not be denied" tone.
"Yes, Mom?" Roland answered, chewing his bread slowly.
"I have a headache," Aurelia massaged her temples. "Riven in Northreach just sent a telegraph. He says he's busy 24/7 managing the factory expansion and troop training. He said: 'Mom, I'd rather fight a bear than find a wife.'"
Aurelia sighed deeply. "That eldest son of mine... why is he so hard to romanticize? He's 32, but acts like a bouncer."
"That's just Riven, Mom," Rhea commented casually, twirling her fork. "He's probably married to his axe."
"And you too, Rhea," Aurelia stared sharply at her daughter. "I received 15 proposals for you this week. You rejected all of them with the reason 'The Guy is Weak'. Are you looking for a husband or a Punching Bag?"
"Both, Mom," Rhea answered logically. "If he can't parry my punch, how is he going to protect our family?"
Aurelia gave up on her two eldest. She shifted her gaze to the remaining target.
Her eyes locked onto Sir Rianor.
Rianor, who was engrossed in reading the Aethelgard Financial Times, felt a murderous intent. Goosebumps rose on his neck. Slowly, he lowered his newspaper.
"Rianor," Aurelia called. Her voice was soft. Too soft.
"Y-yes, Mom?" Rianor adjusted his glasses, nervous.
"You are 22 years old. Smart. Handsome. We are now Rich. Statistically, you are the most desirable 'Real Estate Asset' in the Capital's marriage market."
Rianor swallowed hard. "Mom, I'm currently focusing on..."
"Don't say focusing on work," Aurelia cut him off quickly. "Every day you just lock yourself in the lab with Elara. I know Elara is smart, but is your relationship healthy? Do you just talk about formulas?"
"It's a productive professional relationship, Mom," Rianor defended. "We are developing..."
"Spare me!" Aurelia picked up a very luxurious golden envelope from the pile.
"Listen to Mom. We need strong trade connections in the Capital to counter Morvath's embargo. And coincidentally, there is a dinner invitation from Countess Vanessa."
Rianor frowned. "Vanessa? You mean the Shipping Count's daughter, Lady Vanessa? The one famous for being extravagant and whose voice decibel level causes ear pain?"
"Don't judge a book by its cover," Aurelia smiled sweetly. "Her father owns the largest merchant fleet in the South. If you can win her heart, we get a Lifetime Logistics Discount."
Aurelia placed the letter on Rianor's plate.
"Tonight, 7 PM at Le Petit Jardin Restaurant. Wear the clothes I prepared. Don't wear your glasses, let your eyes be seen."
"And for God's sake, Rianor..." Aurelia looked at her son seriously.
"Do not discuss Macroeconomics or Mana Theory at the dinner table! Discuss her dress! Discuss her eyes! Compliment her!"
Roland and Rhea held back laughter until their faces turned red.
"You're doomed, Bro," Roland whispered. "Vanessa is high-maintenance. Good luck."
Rianor slumped. He felt more prepared to face a tax audit than this blind date.
Noon – Sol-Regis Academy. Grand Library.
While Rianor suffered thinking about his date, Roland was executing his diplomatic mission.
Princess Seraphina.
The Draconian girl sat alone in the corner of the library, reading an ancient history book. Her cold aura made other students dare not approach within a 5-meter radius.
Roland took a deep breath. Okay, Lan. You're handsome. You're a smooth talker. You got this.
Roland walked over, then sat in the chair opposite Seraphina without permission.
Seraphina didn't look up. "You again. Here to sell soap or mirrors?" (Formal Tone).
"Neither," Roland answered, his tone serious. "I wish to offer... Information."
Seraphina finally glanced up. "What information can a lowly noble like you provide?"
Roland placed a piece of paper on the table.
It was a copy of the secret transaction between Morvath and the Smuggling Syndicate (data Rianor hacked from the Bank last night).
"I know you hate Morvath," Roland whispered. "And I know why Draconia sent its Crown Princess to an enemy school. You are looking for the 'Ancient Heart', aren't you?"
Seraphina's red eyes narrowed sharply. The atmosphere suddenly became tense.
"You know about that?"
"My family has a hobby of digging up things that shouldn't be dug up," Roland smiled mysteriously. "So... Alliance? We help take down Morvath, you help protect us from political attacks?"
Seraphina stared at Roland for a long time. Searching for lies.
Then she extended her pale hand.
"Alliance accepted, Roland Sudrath. But remember... if you betray me, I will burn you alive."
Roland shook the cold hand.
"Note taken, Princess."
Afternoon – Sudrath Manor. Living Room.
Rianor stood in front of a full-length mirror.
Aurelia and Roland watched him like fashion show judges.
Rianor was forced to wear a very sharp Navy Blue Slim Fit Suit. His usually messy hair was now styled Slick Back. And most importantly: No Glasses.
Rianor's face, usually hidden by frames, was now clearly visible. His jawline was defined, his eyes sharp and intelligent. He looked like a cold Young CEO in a Korean Drama.
"Damn, my Brother!" Roland exclaimed in awe. "You're so handsome, Nor! I swear, if I were a girl, I'd have a crush on you."
"I feel naked without glasses," Rianor complained. He squinted slightly, unaccustomed to it. He patted his suit pocket.
"What are you carrying? Why is your pocket bulging?" Rhea asked suspiciously.
Rianor emptied his pockets:
Stun Pen (50,000-volt taser).
Mini Smoke Bombs (Marble-sized).
Signal Flare.
"Hey!" Rhea glared. "Are you going on a date or a Military Operation?!"
"Preventive, Teh. Preventive," Rianor replied flatly, putting the weapons back. "I have a bad feeling. Morvath must still be targeting us. Better to have an umbrella before it rains... or a taser before being attacked."
"Whatever," Aurelia fixed Rianor's tie. "The important thing is manners. Remember Mom's advice: Smile. Pay for the food. Don't be stingy."
"Yes, Mom."
Rianor walked out to the carriage with heavy steps, as if walking to the gallows.
Meanwhile, on the manor roof, Elara sat holding binoculars, watching Rianor get into the carriage.
"Tch. A date," Elara muttered, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She bit her lollipop until it crunched. "He better not leak our research secrets to that girl."
That night, House Sudrath's Chief Strategist would face a battlefield he couldn't calculate with math: A Materialistic Woman.