As the sun dipped below the horizon, the palace began to come alive with activity. Preparations for the feast unfolded in a flurry of movement and organization. Servants hurried to set up tables, arrange seating, and lay out an impressive array of food and beverages.Meanwhile, the palace courtyard outside buzzed with anticipation. The people of the kingdom, summoned by Dante's messenger, arrived in a steady stream, their chatter and excitement growing louder by the minute.
In a matter of moments, the courtyard transformed into a sea of people. Royalty, nobles, and consuls mingled, their finery and jewels glinting under the flickering torches that illuminated the area.
The air was filled with the hum of hushed conversations, occasional laughter, and the clinking of goblets as servants moved through the crowd, distributing wines and mea, At one end of the courtyard, a long, elegant table had been reserved for royalty. Dante sat at the center, flanked by his mother, the grand empress, and his vivacious sister. Cyrus took his place among the other esteemed nobles seated at the table.
From their vantage point, they overlooked the grandeur of the feast, surrounded by the finest company and the soft glow of twinkling lanterns.
With a decisive tap of the spoon against his goblet, Dante called for attention, and the courtyard fell into a hushed silence. The crowd turned their gazes towards the royal table, eagerly awaiting his words.
Dante stood before all the people, his voice carrying across the quiet courtyard. "My brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers of Aresia," he began, his voice swelling with pride. "Today, I stand before you, not as simply a king, but as a father. Today is the day I become a father."
The crowd listened intently, their eyes fixed on Dante's face, captivated by his words. He could feel the weight of their anticipation, their eagerness to hear his next words. "Today, a prince is born," he continued, his voice filling with emotion. His heart welled with both joy and responsibility. "My son, my heir, has entered this world, a future leader for this great kingdom we call home."
Dante glanced at the grand empress and Calliope, who sat on either side of him, before turning his attention back to the crowd. Their expressions mirrored the same sense of pride and anticipation.
"I stand before you, honored and humbled, with a heart overflowing with gratitude and love," Dante continued, his voice strong yet tinged with warmth. "For to become a father is not just to bring new life into the world, but to nurture and guide that life, to prepare it for the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead."
The courtyard remained silent, the people hanging onto every word that flowed from his lips.
Dante's gaze swept across the assembled nobles, his eyes meeting theirs with sincerity and determination. "I promise you," he declared, his voice ringing through the stillness, "that I will do everything in my power to ensure my son grows up to be a strong and wise leader, one who will cherish the values of aresia above all else."
He paused for a moment, allowing his words to settle upon the ears of the people. The air seemed charged with expectation, as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting for more. "But I also stand before you tonight to thank you all, my loyal subjects, my friends, my family," Dante's voice softened, filled with gratitude and respect. "For this feast, this celebration, is not just for my son's birth, but for each and every one of you. It is a celebration of the bonds we share, the unity that runs through our veins, and the resilience of this great kingdom."
The courtyard buzzed with anticipation, the people moved by his sincerity and touched by his heartfelt words. The air grew warm with pride and solidarity.
As Dante concluded his words, the people of Aresia responded with a resounding cheer, their voices blending together in a chorus of celebration. "Long live Emperor Dante!" they shouted, their voices echoing through the night air. "Long live Prince Phílos!"
With a final declaration, Dante bellowed, "We feast and we banter!" His words carried a note of enthusiasm and excitement, and as he spoke, the people of Aresia turned their gazes back to their meals, their conversations picking up once again. The feast continued, the tables now abuzz with laughter and chatter. Servants moved amidst the crowd, ensuring everyone was well taken care of and that no goblet went untouched.
The grand empress joined in, her tone laced with affectionate nostalgia. "You know," she began, her voice carrying the warmth of a fond memory. "When Dante was still a little boy, he used to challenge every guard to a duel." She chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. The others seated at the royal table chuckled as well, knowing the mischievous nature of young Dante.
Dante's protest came quickly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Mother! No one asked!" he interjected, a subtle plea for her to not share any more awkward tales of his childhood.
Calliope, always ready with a jibe, chimed in with a playful retort. "I did," she joked, her laughter filling the air.
Dante, his ears a slight shade of red, shot a "shut up" and a playful glare in Calliope's direction. The table erupted in laughter, the siblings' banter bringing a lighthearted atmosphere to the feast.
Dante rose from his seat, summoning his loyal personal guard, Cyrus, with a subtle gesture. "Cyrus," he called out, his voice carrying a hint of determination. "Walk with me for a moment."
Cyrus, ever vigilant, immediately rose from his seat and followed in step behind Dante, his presence a silent yet reassuring presence. The people, engrossed in their conversations and feasting, paid little attention to their departure, their focus on the celebration at hand.
Calliope, ever curious, raised a brow as she noticed Dante's departure, her voice cutting through the din of the feast. "Where are you off to, brother?"
Dante paused, his gaze meeting Calliope's curious one. "To my study," he responded, answering her inquiry simply.
The grand empress glanced up, a touch of concern in her eyes. "Your study, my son?" she asked, her tone laced with a slight hint of worry.
Dante's retort, tinged with sarcasm, drew a mixture of laughs and a roll of eyes from the others at the table. "I'm trying to get away from your daughter," he quipped, his voice carrying a hint of playful exasperation.
Calliope, ever quick-witted, shot back a mock-indignant retort. "Oh, my apologies for being so amusing," she shot back with a smirk.
"More wine for me, then," Calliope said, her tone laced with both amusement and acceptance. "Apparently, my company is only bearable when there's wine involved." She smirked and reached out for another goblet, earning a roll of eyes from Dante.
As Dante and Cyrus made their way through the hallways, Cyrus could not help but notice the look of worry etched across Dante's face. The silence that hung between them was heavy, the click of their boots the only sound as they walked. It was clear that something was weighing on Dante's mind.
Cyrus, being the loyal and observant personal guard that he was, broke the silence, his voice low and cautious. "Is something bothering you, my lord?"
The silence between them lingered as they continued their journey through the corridors. Dante kept his lips sealed, his gaze fixed ahead as they approached the study. It was clear that the concern weighing on him was deep and heavy.
Cyrus could sense the intensity of Dante's thoughts, the tension palpable in the air. Yet, he remained quiet, following his liege loyal, as the duo reached the study, the heavy wooden door waiting ahead.
Once they entered the study, Cyrus quietly closed the door behind them, sealing them inside. The dim light from the small window filtered into the room, casting shadows across the vast shelves, filled with countless books and scrolls.
Dante stood in the center of the room, his gaze flicking around the familiar surroundings. The air felt heavy with suspense as if the walls themselves held secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Cyrus, who had been watching silently, finally spoke.
"My lord, I cannot deny that I am curious. There is a weight on your mind, I can sense it. What is it that troubles you so deeply?"
Dante's voice was tinged with a mixture of disdain and concern. "I received a letter from the barbarians this morning," he began, his words filled with a hint of bitterness.
Cyrus's brow furrowed in surprise. "Barbarians? What message could they possibly send to you? What did it say, my lord?"
"They want our northern territory," Dante explained, his tone filled with anger and frustration. "They claim that the land belongs to them, that it's rightfully theirs."
Cyrus clenched his fist. "Are they insane? This is our land, our territory. How dare they make such a ridiculous claim?"
Dante's gaze was hard, his jaw clenched, and his voice steady. "The barbarians are known for their vicious ways," he acknowledged. "But we cannot simply surrender our territory to them. We have to stand strong and defend what is rightfully ours."
Cyrus nodded, his eyes flickering with determination. "You're right, my lord. We cannot simply allow them to take what is ours without a fight. We must stand strong, unite our people, and prepare for a battle like no other."
"Perhaps it's best to remain silent for now," Dante suggested. "We must not give them any hint of our plans. Let them wonder and doubt, for the element of surprise is our greatest weapon."
"You may return to the feast, Cyrus. I shall remain here, as I cannot bear the presence of my sister right now she plays alot ," Dante stated, his exhaustion evident in his weary voice. "Inform them that I am retiring for the night. I am too exhausted to continue, and I require rest."
With a final nod of loyalty, Cyrus turned and left the study, shutting the door silently behind him. Dante was left alone, surrounded by the silence of the study, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon him.
Dante sunk into the chair, his mind consumed with the question at hand. "Why would the barbarians want the northern territory?" he muttered to himself, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Could there be something hidden in those lands that they covet?"
Dante, after snapping out of his thoughts, entered his chamber. There, he saw Iris peacefully sleeping in bed, and their newborn Prince Phílos tucked away in his crib. The sight brought a faint smile to his weary face.
He approached the bed, careful not to disturb Iris, and gazed down at the small, sleeping figure of their son. A pang of protective love filled his chest as he watched the steady rise and fall of Phílos's tiny chest.
Dante, after removing the heavy royal regalia, slipped into his night robe, feeling the weight of the day's events lifting from his shoulders. He lay down on the bed, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy sigh. Fatigue enveloped him like a thick, comforting blanket, and he drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.