It was still shy of eight o'clock when Aurelio climbed out of bed. The consecutive hours of high-intensity calculations had kept his mind in a state of perpetual activity. Even as he lay in bed just moments ago, his thoughts hadn't slackened in the slightest. Under such circumstances, falling asleep had proven to be an arduous task. He tossed and turned for quite a while before finally slipping into a fitful slumber. Later, when a comrade passed by outside his door, making a slight noise, he was jolted awake.
This bout of poor-quality sleep brought an end to the mental excitement, and a sense of fatigue quickly set in. "I might as well not have slept at all," he grumbled inwardly. Reaching into his bag, he scooped out a handful of ice water and dabbed it on his face several times. The cold stimulus helped clear his head somewhat, making him feel a bit more awake. He then left the room and made his way back to the hall. Finding a corner seat, he sat down, closed his eyes slightly, and began gently massaging his temples with his fingers.
Breakfast time was drawing near. According to the customs of the Serenians, the first meal of the day typically commenced at eight o'clock. Their dining habits differed somewhat from those of the other countries in Liparia. Whether they were nobles or common folk, the Serenians were accustomed to having three meals a day. After an eight o'clock breakfast, they would partake in the main midday meal at two in the afternoon, and the final dinner often wouldn't be served until eight or nine o'clock in the evening.
The Serenians took great pride in this way of life, as it was a symbol of their prosperity. In other countries, due to economic constraints, many people skipped breakfast or those engaged in morning labor would simply have a meager bite to eat. In the past, when the Serenian nation was at the height of its power, the custom of three daily meals had spread along with its territorial expansion.
The Serenian kingdom was small in territorial expanse, and its land was rather infertile, ill-suited for farming. This nation built on saline-alkali soil had witnessed zero grain production for an extended period. For centuries, all of Serenia's grain supply had relied on imports from foreign lands. Their affluent and well-fed existence was entirely dependent on the prosperity of other industries.
The Port of Serenia boasted over a dozen docks, each bustling with activity. At any given time, there were always thousands of ships, both large and small, moored in the harbor. Just as a vessel laden with the nation's textiles would set sail from the port, another merchant ship carrying exotic treasures from abroad would sail in. Within a matter of hours, these foreign goods would find their way into the markets of Serenia and then begin circulating to other countries.
Even with such a life of affluence, Aurelio couldn't bring himself to feel cheerful. "Is it truly wise to entrust one's entire fate to the sea, to drift along with the waves like a leaf in the wind? If, one day, Serenia's shipping routes were severed, countless people would surely starve to death," he fretted.
"How silly of me," he chided himself once again. "Breakfast is just around the corner. Why am I letting my thoughts wander so far afield?" Determined not to let his mind idle away in aimless speculation, he rose from his seat and made his way to the washroom to meticulously groom himself. After washing his face a few more times, a good portion of the weariness that had clung to him dissipated, and he felt considerably more energetic.
As he eyed the large bucket of clear water beside him, the conversation he'd had with Gloria the previous night came flooding back to him. "Using water like this for washing up is quite a luxury nowadays," he mused. He knew that the city's water supply largely stemmed from a tributary of the Geir River. That tributary flowed not too far from the north and west of the city, yet even on ordinary days, accessing it wasn't overly convenient. And in the event of a siege, relying solely on the city's limited wells would make it extremely difficult to sustain the populace for long.
He thought to himself, "Water supply is a vulnerability. Employing thousands of peasants to drain the groundwater outside the city could potentially lead to an easy conquest. I'll make a note of it. It might come in handy sooner or later."
"Nevertheless, since the situation seems favorable for now, I'll just accept it as it is," he reasoned. "The siege has eased up, and it won't be long before it's completely lifted."
Everyone was aware that the reinforcements from Saphinia were en route and would arrive within at most half a month. Rumor had it that they had dispatched an army of fifty thousand troops. How could the ragtag rebels and militias possibly withstand such a formidable force of regular troops? Moreover, these were the land forces of Saphinia, renowned for their top-notch equipment, rigorous training, and sophisticated tactics. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that they were the strongest in all of Liparia.
"The day of our return to our homeland isn't too far off," Aurelio surmised regarding the future course of the war. With a soft sigh, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness in his heart. Having come here in haste only to leave just as quickly, he hadn't achieved what he'd hoped for. Perhaps he'd have to seek alternative means to fulfill his goals.
"I should have anticipated that coming here would amount to little more than scouting the terrain. There wouldn't be any significant gains beyond that. Still, if Serenia can reclaim those disputed territories, that would be a consolation of sorts," he consoled himself. "At least it would give some meaning to my teacher's sacrifice all those years ago."
De Lieto had perished in the war that erupted ten years ago over territorial disputes. In the aftermath of that conflict, Serenia had briefly held sway over those lands, only to lose them again a few years later. If they could be recaptured now, it might offer some measure of solace.
Aurelio returned to the hall with a solemn expression. By then, breakfast was already underway. He collected his meal and made his way back to his previous seat. The hall was gradually filling up, and the air grew noisy with chatter. However, seated in his corner, Aurelio enjoyed a relatively quiet environment. Besides, most of the soldiers, hailing from commoner backgrounds, wouldn't dare to disturb a young nobleman like him and ask if they could share his table. Thus, he was able to enjoy his breakfast in peace.
The breakfast consisted of several slices of bread, a few slices of cheese-fried ham, a bowl of porridge, and several sweet candied apricots. With the exception of the porridge, the other items were quite common back in his homeland. Their quality was middling, neither particularly good nor bad, failing to elicit any excitement yet also not drawing any criticism. As Aurelio ate them, he didn't experience any particularly strong feelings.
He quickly polished off the food items other than the porridge. Then, he picked up the spoon and began stirring the porridge. A sense of emptiness filled his heart. Usually, solitude brought him a sense of relaxation and comfort, but at this moment, it only made him feel hollow. Perhaps it was due to the chaos of thoughts and excessive worry that had plagued him these past few days that he found himself missing someone lively. However, that person was unlikely to show up here anytime soon.
Resting his left cheek on his hand, he continued to stir the porridge with the spoon in his right hand. The main ingredient of the porridge was a type of flat grain, and it also contained some minced meat. He hadn't encountered this particular grain before. After inquiring with the cook, he learned that it was a bowl of minced meat oatmeal porridge. The flat shape wasn't the natural form of oats but was the result of being rolled by rollers.
"Are oats meant for feeding horses? Can they really be eaten?" Aurelio wondered as he returned to his seat. Curiosity got the better of his earlier sense of disappointment. He scooped up a spoonful of the porridge and put it into his mouth, only to be immediately let down. Presumably due to improper preparation, the texture of the oats was rather unpleasant. They hardly absorbed the flavor of the broth, tasting rather bland. Moreover, perhaps because they hadn't been cooked long enough, they were somewhat hard to chew. If one tried to swallow them in a hurry, the rough texture would make the throat feel uncomfortable.
Disappointed with the taste, that sense of loss washed over him once again. He dropped the spoon onto the plate, took a sip of water, and then ascended the stairs to the second floor.
It was already half past eight, yet there was still no sign of the female knight. "She must have had too much wine last night and overslept," Aurelio thought to himself. He made a beeline for the guest room directly above the second-floor kitchen, knocked gently on the door, and called out, "Miss Gloria Greti?"