The Princess was found. A lost young Noble was restored to glory. A man had to start from scratch.
Everything had gone so wrong and perfect at the same time.
A Cook, no, a Noble now, tried to fix his collar and hoped it didn't choke him too much. It was terribly itchy for the young gentleman, and having to go around the House of Crowel to attend and meet with tutors and learn of his duties was draining.
Even more draining than learning spell-casting.
Not much time had passed since he arrived here, and he was already being caught up in all the lessons that a young boy from the age of five or six had to learn slowly as they grew up—they were trying to etch it into his mind in such a short time.
He was supposed to have some kind of debut and needed to be prepared for it.
