"Thank you for answering..." muttered Talon before his voice faded to complete silence. The boy looked out of the window, completely buried in his own thoughts.
As he observed the streets of Rendel, the happy families, the food stands, and the shops of everyday people trying to work to survive.
He realized that even in their struggles, they were the closest to being truly happy. Or the very least, their faces weren't contorted with fear and uncertainty.
Something else caught his interest too, a couple of young children in rags, malnourished, and barely able to move. As he looked around more, he spotted even more who suffered on the streets of Rendel, the capital, the very place where poverty like this has no place. Yet, it was present, even here.
But Talon's line of thought was cut short by Paul who turned towards him with a serious expression. "Talon, I really hope that you will show respect at least to the ruler of our nation. It's only frustrating for me, but to them, it's an act of treason, and that would complicate our already bad situation."
Paul grabbed Talon's shoulder before continuing. "Promise me that you won't be a disrespectful little shit!" Hearing this only made Talon stare blankly at Paul.
"Who the hell do you think I am? I'm not that dumb to kill myself by acting like that. You don't know, but even in the slums, I was quite the gentleman." This time, it was Paul who stared straight at Talon with a dumbfounded expression.
"You probably heard that word yesterday. At least make a believable lie, you stupid brat... I have to teach you some basic etiquette at the very least." Paul buried his head in his palms, already dreading teaching Talon.
Paul sighed deeply, lifting his head from his palms with an air of reluctant determination. "Listen closely, brat. Proper etiquette can be the thin line between life and death in some circles. When you find yourself in the presence of nobility, remember this, a bow is not just a formality, it's a sign of respect."
He stood up, gesturing for Talon to follow suit, the two barely had enough space in the carriage.
"Let me demonstrate. Stand tall, feet together. Lower your head slightly, and bring your right foot back just a bit. Now, bend at the waist, keeping your back straight. It's not a deep bow, just a respectful acknowledgment. But for nobles, you have to bow deeply, and to His Majesty, you have to bow down even deeper. Don't make eye contact, and only speak when spoken to. Even then, use formal speech and be respectful."
Paul repeated the motion with precision, emphasizing the importance of each step. "Now, give it a try. We can't have you embarrassing yourself… us, in the presence of his majesty."
Talon attempted to mimic the bow, his movements awkward and uncoordinated. Paul watched with growing frustration as Talon's attempt fell far from the grace expected in noble circles, much less than in the presence of a king.
"No, no, dumb brat," Paul sighed in exasperation. "You're not sweeping the floor, it's a bow. Keep your back straight, and the foot placement is crucial. Let me show you again." Paul demonstrated the proper bow once more, hoping his actions would serve as a clearer guide.
Talon tried once more, but despite his best efforts, the result was still a clumsy display that would undoubtedly draw unwarranted attention and disdain.
Paul, now visibly frustrated, rubbed his temples. "We're running out of time, brat. This is basic etiquette. Again, pay attention!"
It was Talon's turn to get frustrated as he was trying his best, the boy spat back in frustration. "Just shut up you old fart, I'm trying my best here. Don't blame your student, you are just an incompetent teacher!"
"What the hell do you mean you dumb brat?! These are basic movements and you can't even mimic them, and you dare to blame me?!" Screamed Paul while the veins on his forehead almost popped.
While the two screamed at each other, Damian sat in silence, carving an ice figure depicting a wolf with a smile on its face. Seemingly unbothered by the confrontation, he continued his work, perfecting every little detail of the figurine.
"You know what? Damn you, old fart, here is your stupid bowing." Spat back Talon in defiance, he took a step back and, with newfound determination, performed the bow once again.
This time, every movement was executed with precision. His back was straight, his head dipped at the right angle, and his demeanor exuded the grace expected in noble circles. The silence that followed was only broken by the rhythmic sound of Damian's ice carving.
After Paul calmed down a bit, he said with a small smile on his face. "Good, just do the same when we are in the presence of his majesty and everything will be just fine."
The palace wasn't far from the hunter headquarters. It only took half an hour in the carriage. Sir Cedric helped them out, and as they stepped onto the palace grounds, the grandeur of the royal residence loomed before them.
The massive gates opened, revealing the bustling life within the palace walls. Paul took a moment to adjust his attire, signaling to Talon to follow suit.
Damian, still holding the ice wolf sculpture, joined them. The palace guards all stepped aside the moment they spotted Sir Cedric, who continued to lead the three inside.
As they approached the throne room, Talon's vision faltered a bit, but it returned right after. 'What's happening again?' His ears began to ring, while a heavy feeling of dizziness washed over him.
A noble baron approached them, introducing himself with an air of formality. "Greetings, esteemed guests. I am Baron Orland. Sir Cedric has informed us of your arrival."
Paul and Damian courteously bowed in acknowledgment, but Talon, standing still, found the ringing in his ears worsening.
The heavy feeling of dizziness intensified, and a silent whisper assaulted his mind. It wasn't like Aria's gift, it was something else, similar to the hunter's meeting room. But this time, the whispers were incomprehensible.
"You never heard of manners, boy?" asked Baron Orland, with a mocking tone. "Well, it's understandable. I heard that you are a slum rat. Is that true?" Talon ignored the noble, trying to listen to the whispers. It was almost on the tip of his tongue.
Suddenly, Talon's lips moved as if of their own accord, and he repeated the words he heard in a whisper, "Shut up, you pathetic maggot." Paul and even Damian were shocked at Talon's unexpected response.
Breaking out of his momentary trance, Talon suddenly spotted the noble in front of him. With a swift realization, he bowed before the stunned noble, a gesture of respect to salvage the situation.
Baron Orland was taken aback by Talon's display of manners. Sir Cedric, sensing the need to defuse the situation, stepped in. "Apologies for the interruption, Baron Orland. But we cannot delay the meeting with His Majesty any longer."
Just before they entered the throne room, Paul pulled Talon aside. "What was that?" His tone was more worried than angry.
"I... I have no idea," muttered Talon, his voice barely audible as he trembled slightly.
This time, Damian stepped up to the boy, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Talon. Just try to hold back whatever that was a little longer." Talon nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and fear.
They entered the throne room, a vast chamber adorned with opulence. The walls were draped with intricate tapestries depicting the kingdom's history, and its previous rulers. The floor was adorned with a lush red carpet that muffled the sound of footsteps. On the ceiling, hung a beautiful golden chandelier that cast a warm, golden glow on the whole throne room.
Seated atop a golden throne, a gray-bearded man looked down at them, even his gaze commanded authority, his regal robe, adorned with jewels and fine embroidery of an obsidian serpent.
As they approached, a courtier stepped forward and introduced the king with a flourish. "You stand before King Alaric the Third. Beacon of unity and peace across all of Rondor."
The courtier's voice echoed across the throne room, yet the words coming out of his mouth only made Talon roll his eyes. 'Peace and Unity my ass, what a joke.' Thought Talon, whispers beginning to eat away his mind yet again.
Paul, Sir Cedric, and Damian deeply bowed towards King Alaric. While bowing and staring at the ground, Paul's attention was grabbed by the figure of the boy standing beside him.
Talon wasn't bowing down; instead, he just stared with a vacant expression, his lips moving but no words escaping. Before Paul could call out to the boy, King Alaric called out to him.
"You came to convince me not to execute this 'child,' yet he isn't respecting my authority? What is the meaning of this, Paul?" The king's tone was threatening, echoing through the grand throne room.
With a grave expression, Paul knocked Talon on the side with his elbow and said with a hurrying tone. "Idiot, bow down!"
Crimson fog began to slowly fill the throne room. Sir Cedric and the remaining royal guards instantly drew their weapons, prepared to give their lives in defense of their king. As the fog continued to envelop the room, Talon's expression grew more distant.
The guards poised themselves to attack Talon, but a sudden wave of bloodlust washed over them. It was as if they were being eyed by a true predator, a gaze that regarded them as nothing more than prey. Talon growled with a chilling voice.
"I bow to no one!"