Chapter 14 - An Offer

The two men explored some of the southern slums, while Mari forced Charlotte to help her prepare the meal. 

Fennel was upset by the things he saw during the excursion. There were many people wearing tattered clothes, some who looked I'll and others who seemed to be using substances such as alcohol to cope with their living situations.

Trash was strewn everywhere, and some of the buildings were only shells of what they once were, as they had burned down and never been rebuilt.

Children were everywhere. They played on the dirt paths. Even though they were dirty and their clothing was torn, the kids seemed to be having fun. They laughed, sang, and had not a care in the world.

It was a stark contrast to his royal upbringing, where most of his time was consumed with studies and traditions. He didn't have siblings or other children to play with, except on trips with the king and queen to other territories within the kingdom when they would visit the other nobles, such as Duke Louis and his family.

Fennel wondered how his own life could have been different if he were not born into the royal family. In a way, it was both a blessing and a curse to visit that segment of the city.

He felt much more appreciative of his privileged life, but it also caused him some stress as he was making an attempt to form plans to assist the slums to prosperity.

It made him angry that his father had ignored the citizens in the area. Nobody deserved to live in such conditions. 

After a few hours, the pair returned to the brothel. The bard led Oliver to the private area in the back, where Mari slept and relaxed.

They took a seat at the small dining table. 

Fennel sniffed the air. The scent of the meal was impressive. He had smelled a lot of cooking in the castle, but the food Mari was working to prepare smelled even more delicious.

His tail wagged enthusiastically as Mari and Charlotte came from the kitchen. They set the large trays of food on the table, then also took a seat.

"Thank you for the meal," Fennel said politely. 

"I hope you enjoy it," Mari replied.

Charlotte frowned and began to dig in. It was an annoyance for her to have guests present at the dinner table.

Fennel's eyes widened when he noticed the food. Everything was presented perfectly. It reminded him of the meals he ate in the palace, just with lower-quality cuts of meat and ingredients.

He watched as everyone filled their plates from the trays. He was a bit confused. He was unsure of the traditions the citizens had when it came to meal times.

"Oh," Oliver said as he took Fennel's plate. "We always fill out plates from the trays. We don't have staff to bring out each portion. I'll get it for you."

"S-Sorry for being rude," Fennel stammered.

He hated that he never studied the eating habits of the citizens. His manners should have been perfect at all times, so he was embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

"No, your highness," Mari chuckled. "You wouldn't know. You're not being rude at all. Please don't worry about it."

"Thank you for understanding, Miss Mari."

"Eat as much as you want," she instructed. "I made plenty for all of us to have seconds or even thirds. It's not everyday I get to cook for such a special guest."

Fennel smiled. Her sentiment was a sweet one, though it was unnecessary for her to treat him as someone special. His heart didn't feel he had the right to be treated with such esteem, even though he intellectually understood why she would do so.

Oliver set the filled plate in front of the prince. The others had begun to eat, which he had not been used to. In the palace, the king and queen were to begin eating before others were allowed to even pick up a fork.

He thought life outside the castle was interesting. It seemed they were all equals.

Fennel took a bite of a glazed piece of meat. When the flavor hit his tongue, he felt a rush hit his brain. The flavors of the sauce used for the meat, combined with the item itself, brought a smile to his face.

"I've never tasted a more delicious glaze," Fennel said excitedly with his ears perked up straight in the air.

"Oh my," Mari chuckled, her tail swaying from side to side. "You're too kind. You don't need to flatter me."

"No, it's truly remarkable," Fennel assured her.

"I'm flattered by your words."

They finished the meal, and Fennel was left utterly impressed by the quality and dedication that went into every part of it. He looked at Mari, his green eyes focusing on her.

"Miss Mari," he began as Charlotte and Oliver cleared the table. "Do you always put so much passion into your cooking?"

"Passion?" She asked.

"The royal chefs are experts, but something about your cooking has more life," Fennel explained.

Mari wasn't expecting that the prince would appreciate her cooking completely. She never imagined she would be cooking for a future king, let alone having him praise her in such a way.

"I'm so happy you enjoyed my cooking," Mari sighed, her ears dropping. "I was worried it would not be good enough for your refined taste buds. I'm glad to be proven wrong."

"Miss Mari," Fennel began. "You should join the royal chef in the palace."

Mari gasped. "W-What?"

"If you would like a job in the palace, the offer is a standing one."

Mari wasn't sure what to say. If she accepted the offer, she would be able to stay near her son. She would also no longer need the brothel's money and could pass it on to one of the girls. Despite this, she was unsure if she could handle the position.

"Please think about it," Fennel urged. "I have another question."

"Y-Yes?" 

"Would you like an invite to the royal ball tomorrow night?"

"Your highness," Mari said with wide eyes. "You can't possibly be serious."

"I'm serious," Fennel assured her. "If you would like to attend, I'll have your name on the guest list."

"T-Thank you," she responded with a shaky voice. "I will consider both offers."

After the dishes were done, Oliver noticed night was beginning to fall upon them. The men said goodbye to the bard's mother, then began to walk back home.

Fennel was relieved when they returned to the market district. The streets were alive with activity as people made last-minute purchases, and the stalls began to close for the day.

Fennel looked at his feet. He was upset that Oliver hadn't held his hand on the way back. He reached out. His hand could only graze the side of the bard's little finger.

Oliver stopped walking. He looked toward Fennel with a gentle smile.

"Is something ailing you?" Oliver asked.

"Nothing in particular," Fennel mumbled.

"You can tell me if there is."

Fennel sighed. He still felt nervous to ask for a simple touch, but it felt wrong to stroll the streets next to the silver-haired man and not have a grip on him.

He reached over and placed his hand in Oliver's, causing the other man to blush and smile ear-to-ear.

"Was that it?" Oliver asked.

"Y-Yes," Fennel stuttered. "I don't want to get lost."

Fennel wouldn't get lost, but he felt he needed an excuse. It was the best he could come up with.

The words caused Oliver's heart to sink tremendously. Given how crowded the streets were, it was evident that the prince was concerned about losing track of him. He simply wished for additional reasons for the contact.

It was wishful thinking on his part.

Oliver tightened his grip on the hand.

Once back at the palace, Oliver let go of the feline's hand. He watched as the prince's ears drooped in reaction to him letting go.

The reaction caused Oliver to grin. 

"Did you want me to keep hold of your hand?" He teased.

Fennel frowned up at him. He folded his hands behind his body. "No!"

"Are you sure?"

"Stop teasing me," Fennel huffed, his cheeks flushing. "If you don't, I'll call you Ollie."

Oliver groaned and shook his head. The only person who ever referred to him as that was his mother, but as he thought about it, he wouldn't mind.

"That's fine," Oliver sighed. 

"I'm sure you love the name," Fennel grinned.

"I would allow you to call me anything," Oliver admitted. 

"I guess you wouldn't be able to tell a royal to stop calling you Ollie," Fennel hummed.

"That's not the only reason," Oliver shyly smiled. "It's special if you have a nickname for me. Not because you're a royal."

He looked at Fennel's face. The happy aura had disappeared from the smaller feline's face and was replaced with a blank stare. The reaction made him regret his words.

Oliver couldn't believe he had just said that. It was embarrassing. He didn't mean to allude to his feelings for Fennel. 

Oliver wondered how he could make the situation less awkward.