dinner party
The news that Draven, the executioner of the Arena, had spent an afternoon strolling around the Immortal Fortress with a silver-haired beauty spread like wildfire. This in itself wasn't anything new; Draven had never lacked female companions since his rise to power. But this one was truly eye-catching—rare silver hair, a breathtaking figure, and the fact that she was carried in Draven's arms the entire time, seemingly with some difficulty walking. This alone was enough to become the best topic of conversation.
Everyone knows that Draven has a VIP seating area reserved for silver-haired women in the arena, leading many to believe that the Executioner has a particular fondness for silver hair. However, in reality, Draven has a penchant for all women, accepting any hair color as long as the woman is attractive enough. But some observant gamblers and drinkers have noticed a pattern: it seems that busty, brainless beauties tend to stay with Draven longer.
So, the underground casinos quickly sensed a business opportunity and opened new betting odds, wagering on how long this newly arrived silver-haired beauty would stay by the side of the Glorious Executioner. Three days? Five days? A week? The odds varied. Later, when Draven learned of this, far from being angry, a glint of cunning flashed in his eyes. He immediately arranged for several unfamiliar subordinates to disperse to various casinos and place a heavy bet—a full one hundred gold coins—on the option of "marriage." Of course, that's a story for another time.
At this moment, Draven was experiencing a sweet burden. After shopping all afternoon, even with his amazing arm strength, carrying a grown woman was making his arms sore. He had tried to negotiate with her to buy her a mount, but Alice was now very clingy to him. The mere mention of being separated, even if it was just letting her ride the mount by herself, made her pout, and her ruby-like eyes immediately welled up with tears, on the verge of a tantrum.
So Draven could only experience a bittersweet pleasure. It wasn't until he returned to his luxurious mansion in the elite district and gently laid her on the soft bearskin carpet that he suddenly slapped his forehead, realizing—he'd gone mad! Alice didn't want to ride alone, but they could ride together!
"I was so stupid, really." He rubbed his aching arm and looked at Alice, who was busy playing with the new toy she had bought that day, feeling a sense of belated regret.
He tried to get up to instruct the servants to prepare dinner, but the little imp objected as soon as he moved. Alice, lying on the carpet, didn't even look up, only making a disgruntled "hmm~" sound with her nose, and her two fair legs kicked and stomped, expressing her protest against his departure.
Draven surrendered instantly. He realized that ever since he had taken advantage of Alice, the girl had become even more dependent on him, and seemed to have intuitively figured out his weaknesses with her not-so-bright little brain. Just as toddlers test their parents' limits by acting spoiled, rolling on the ground, and crying, Alice was also testing Draven's limits of tolerance in her own unique way.
As for Draven... he had absolutely no bottom line when it came to Alice.
What kind of bottom line could a man who had spent the past decade indulging in drinking, gambling, and prostitution, whose morals had long since been abandoned, possibly have? And when faced with Alice, whom he had regained and who depended on him wholeheartedly, he had none left. He wanted nothing more than to give her his heart, and he wanted nothing less than to die for her.
So when Alice vaguely sensed Draven's unconditional doting on her, her status instantly soared, like a cat discovering that it was the master of humans.
For example, right now, the cat only kicked its little feet to express its dissatisfaction, and its owner Draven immediately stopped moving, sat back down next to it, hugged it, and then raised his voice to call the servants waiting outside.
The cat adjusted itself into a more comfortable position in his arms and continued to study the intricate mechanical toy in its hands that could transform from an egg into a chocobo. Its little brows were slightly furrowed, as if it was trying hard to recall the transformation steps.
The servant entered respectfully, head bowed, awaiting orders.
"Go to the Commander's Mansion and tell my brother to come over for dinner tonight if he's free," Draven instructed.
The servant should be.
Draven hesitated for a moment, then added, “Send two more letters to Besilico for me. One to Sergeant Varne, and the other to a woman named Laurie in Riverside Village. In the letters, say that Alice has been found and is with me now, safe and sound.”
The servant noted it down and quietly withdrew.
Draven looked down at Alice, who was struggling with the mechanical parts in his arms, and his voice softened unconsciously: "Baby."
"Hmm?" Alice looked up, her pure red eyes gazing at him with a questioning look.
"What would you like to eat tonight? I'll have the kitchen make it for you."
"I don't want to eat," she pouted. "I'm full."
"..." Draven touched her still round little belly, remembering all the snacks and treats he had fed her along the way that afternoon. Indeed... it seemed like she didn't need to eat dinner.
He changed the subject, trying to evoke more of her memories: "Honey, do you remember anyone else from Besilico?"
Alice immediately perked up and counted on her fingers: "I remember! Sister Qu, Da De, Mom, and Sister Laurie!"
"Well, if my brother comes over for dinner later, you'll get to see 'Da De'," Draven said, using her usual form of address.
"Great! Great!" Alice was overjoyed, even temporarily putting down the mechanical egg she was holding. "Are the others coming too?!"
Draven paused for a moment, then pulled her closer. "Only my brother can come. The others... can't." He hesitated for a second, choosing to explain in words she could understand. "Quelleta is a high-ranking official in Besilico. If she and Laurie wanted to come, it would probably take them half a year to prepare. Aunt Winnie... she got sick a few years ago and passed away."
"Passed away?" Alice blinked, seemingly trying to understand the meaning of the word. "Mom...is she dead?"
“…Mmm.” Draven’s heart tightened as he watched her eyes instantly well up with tears. He quickly comforted her, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, baby. Look, I’m here with you. I’ll always be here, and we’ll never be apart again…”
He frantically tried to coax her, kissing the top of her head and the corners of her eyes, finally managing to stop the tears from overflowing. He quickly changed the subject again, asking the question that had been lingering in his mind for a long time: "Alice, do you remember where you've been all these years? I've been looking for you for so long but haven't been able to find you."
Alice's attention was indeed diverted. She tried to recall, and said haltingly, "In a... very happy place! In Kree's hometown!"
"Bandle City?!" Draven was utterly astonished, his voice rising eight octaves. "How did you get there?! That's... a legendary place! Only Yordles can go there!"
“I don’t know either,” Alice shook her head innocently. “I woke up there. The mushroom houses there glowed, the food was delicious, everyone was very nice to me, and we played together every day. I was so happy every day!” She became cheerful again as she talked about that time, gesturing excitedly.
"Later...later Timo said I had grown up, and that only children could stay there forever, so he told me to come out with Kled to find you." Alice believed the lie Timo told to coax her away.
"Kree said he had something to do here, so he brought me along! And then... and then I found Draven!" Alice concluded happily, as if she had completed a great adventure. She then leaned over and gave Draven a loud kiss on the cheek, leaving a sweet drool mark.
Draven recalled catching a glimpse of the grumpy Yordle cavalryman and his Skaarl at the lounge entrance yesterday. He figured he wouldn't get any more specific details from Alice; it would be good enough if the girl could even explain herself clearly. It seemed that to figure out the details of her nineteen years of life, he'd have to find an opportunity to visit Kled another day. Dealing with that guy was a headache, but it was still better than asking her here, a clueless girl from the beginning.
-------------------------------------
While everyone was enjoying themselves at Draven's mansion, Darius was frowning at an invitation in the study of the Commander's Mansion.
The envelope was adorned with gaudy gold foil, even featuring two crossed axes drawn in exaggerated strokes. The contents were bluntly blatant, bordering on obnoxious: "Brother, come to my house for dinner tonight." It ended with a flamboyant signature, as if afraid no one would recognize him.
Darius held the letter in his hand, tapping his other finger on the table. He knew his younger brother all too well; this sudden "attentiveness" in inviting him to dinner meant he'd probably gotten his hands on something rare or accomplished something impressive, and was eager to show it off.
He put down the letter, rubbed his temples, and said in a deep voice towards the door, "Tamara."
Tamara, the stonemason of war, entered at the sound of the call, her posture ramrod straight, like a frozen stone.
"What's Draven up to now?" The endless military affairs and his perpetually troublesome younger brother were giving him a headache.
Tamara didn't even flinch, replying in a flat, report-like tone: "Commander, yesterday afternoon when I went to the arena to deliver your orders, I witnessed Lord Draven in his lounge...having relations with a silver-haired woman." Her wording was precise and devoid of any emotion. "Furthermore, according to today's intelligence, Lord Draven canceled all his scheduled performances this afternoon, spending the entire time embracing that silver-haired woman, lingering in the Immortal Fortress's main commercial area for over three hours, making substantial purchases, which attracted considerable attention and discussion."
Darius's brow furrowed even deeper. Silver hair? He pressed in a low voice, "A silver-haired woman? Where did she come from?"
“It was Major Kree who brought them back to the Immortal Fortress,” Tamara continued. “Someone saw them riding together on Skaar’s back into the city, and then they went to the arena.”
Darius recalled the empty seat in his brother's arena, always reserved for a certain figure, and a complex emotion flickered through his mind. But he immediately suppressed it. Draven was never short of women, with all sorts of hair colors; this was just another plaything catering to his tastes. To turn down work for a woman and parade around like that? His brother was as absurd as ever.
He could almost picture Draven's smug, foolish expression, as if he wanted the whole world to know he'd found a new girlfriend.
“Understood.” Darius waved Tamara away. He glanced at the fancy invitation on the table, sighed, and ordered his adjutant to prepare the carriage.
Why not? It's been a long time since the two of us ate together.
------------------------------------
Darius arrived at Draven's mansion precisely fifteen minutes before mealtime. As soon as his tall figure appeared at the door, well-trained servants immediately stepped forward and skillfully removed his heavy black armor, revealing simple dark casual clothes underneath. The war stonemason Tamara followed silently behind him like his shadow.
Compared to Draven's dramatic transformation from a naive teenager to a flamboyant middle-aged man over the past decade or so, Darius was already an adult when he joined the army. The passage of time only made his face more resolute and stern, and a few noticeable strands of white hair on his forehead added to his majesty.
Alice recognized him at a glance.
He had barely stepped into the living room, and before he could even take in the furnishings, a silver-white figure shot up like a cannonball, accompanied by a joyful "Draven!", and pounced straight into his arms!
Darius's reaction was entirely conditioned by years of battles. Before his brain could even process it, his right hand, as large as a fan, had already pressed against the intruder's forehead, forcefully stopping the "attack."
Darius instantly recalled Tamara's report—"silver-haired woman." He had considered that it might just be a similar hair color, or even a stand-in that Draven had found. After all, there had been no news of her for nineteen years, and deep down he had already assumed that the little girl named Alice was no longer alive. But he never expected that she was actually still alive.
Shocked, his body's instinctive reaction was to subdue the unknown figure first. Only after he had processed the information that "Alice is still alive" did he realize what he had done—he was using his ruthless iron hand to press down on Alice's head like he was holding down a restless basketball.
Alice, who was being held down, looked completely bewildered. She clutched the large hand on her forehead with both hands, trying to pry it off, her ruby-like eyes filled with incomprehension: "Great Virtue?"
Draven, who was reclining on the long, luxurious sofa, had been sitting with his legs crossed, ready to enjoy his brother's shocked expression when he saw Alice, but he was stunned, his mouth slightly agape: "?!"
Darius's Adam's apple bobbed as he felt the soft touch and warmth of her small hand in his palm. The battle-hardened aura of a seasoned warrior vanished, replaced by an awkwardness. He stiffly moved the hand that was being held, then clumsily ruffled Alice's hair, managing a low, short syllable: "Mmm."
She quickly withdrew her hand, trying to walk around Alice who was still standing there, and find a place to sit down to cover up her embarrassment.
However, as soon as he took a step, Alice was completely awakened by the familiar head-patting motion, and became even happier, thinking that this was a signal that Da De agreed to her getting close. She immediately opened her arms again and tried to pounce on him for a bear hug with a grin.
Almost simultaneously, Darius reached out again—the familiar recipe, the familiar taste—and once again his large hand firmly covered Alice's forehead, fixing her a step away.
Darius: "..."
Why is this girl here again?
Draven, who was reclining on the sofa, finally couldn't hold back any longer. His shoulders began to shake violently. He put his fist in his mouth to prevent himself from bursting out laughing, but his eyes were already full of gloating.
Alice, forced to "brake," thought: "...?"
Her two charges were thwarted by the merciless iron hand. Her small mouth opened slightly, and she tilted her head to try to see Darius, but her eyes were completely covered by the hand.
Tamara, standing to Darius's side and behind: "..."
Draven watched as his brother, who remained unfazed even in the face of a thousand soldiers, was now caught in a dilemma, his face stiff, and his grin almost reaching his ears. His brother's humiliated state was more amusing than having a hundred heads chopped off!
------------------------------------------------
The atmosphere around the luxurious marble dining table, large enough to seat at least fifteen people, was subtly tense. The three of them occupied separate spots, making the table seem excessively empty. Alice wasn't sitting in the high-backed chair prepared for her at all; instead, she was comfortably nestled in Draven's lap, using him as a human chair.
She would say she was "full," but whenever a servant brought out a new, beautifully presented dish, her ruby-like eyes would light up, and she would point with her little finger and softly ask, "Little De, that... have a bite..."
Draven immediately transformed into the most attentive waiter, skillfully cutting off a small piece, carefully blowing on it to cool it, and bringing it to her lips. Don't ask why he was so skilled; he'd practiced.
Alice, like a tentative little bird, would take a small peck and savor it carefully. If she liked it, she would squint her eyes to enjoy it; if she didn't, she would immediately wrinkle her little nose and bury her head in Draven's neck to indicate her refusal.
Draven, quite naturally, tossed the small piece of food she had bitten into his own mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it without the slightest disgust, his movements as fluid as if he had rehearsed them a thousand times.
Darius, sitting next to them, was expressionlessly cutting the roast meat on his plate, but the force he used made one wonder if he mistook the meat for the head of some annoying younger brother. Watching the two opposite him interact intimately, oblivious to everyone else, he felt a vein throbbing in his temple and his teeth itching slightly.
Finally, he put down his knife and fork, the metal clinking against the porcelain plate: "So, you specially invited me over for dinner just to show me this?" The disdain in his tone was almost tangible.
Draven was wiping the sauce off Alice's lips when he heard this. He looked up, his smug smile almost blinding, and replied in an irritating tone, "Of course—yes!"
He hugged Alice tighter in his arms. "How about it? Envious? Jealous? You two eternal bachelors can't understand this kind of happiness!" He deliberately emphasized the word "bachelor".
Tamara, who had been quiet like a background figure, elegantly wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Upon hearing Draven's words, she let out a short "heh," then looked up at Draven, and surprisingly, a hint of "sincerity" appeared on her perpetually icy face.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” Tamara’s voice remained calm. “I misunderstood you yesterday.”
Draven, brimming with self-satisfaction, picked up the wine glass beside him, intending to take a sip of red wine to moisten his throat and accept this "belated apology." He raised his chin, replying in a tone that said, "I told you so long ago":
"Yes, I told you that back then, but you wouldn't listen to my explanation..."
Before he could finish speaking, Tamara continued in her flat, emotionless tone:
"At the time, I thought you were just like before, 'flirting with fans'."
"Pfft—!!! ...
Draven spat out every last drop of his drink, a violent cough punctuating his smugness. His face flushed red as he frantically patted his chest, coughing as he glanced at Tamara in alarm, then quickly at Alice in his arms.
"Cough cough cough!! Wait...wait a minute!! What...what nonsense are you talking about!!" He was so anxious that he couldn't even speak properly.
Tamara seemed oblivious to his embarrassment, continuing to state the facts with a blank expression. Only the slight rise in her tone at the end of her sentences betrayed her triumphant pleasure: "After all, you've done this kind of thing quite often before."
She gave a barely perceptible smile, but to Draven it seemed utterly devilish: "So, I sincerely apologize now; I misunderstood. You weren't 'honeymooning' yesterday—"
Under Draven's murderous glare, she delivered the final blow: "You're 'fucking a true fan'!"
"Pfft—cough cough cough! Cough cough!!" Draven almost coughed his lungs out this time.
When Darius heard the description "true fan of grass", the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily. He silently picked up his wine glass and covered half of his face.
Tamara, the culprit, had reverted to her cold, hardened demeanor as a war stonemason, as if those earth-shattering words had not come from her mouth.
Only Alice, who had absolutely no idea what "grass fan" and "grass true love fan" meant, looked at Draven coughing so loudly that it shook the heavens and earth, and patted his back with her little finger worriedly, asking softly:
"Xiao De, what's wrong? Did you choke on your water?"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
