CH 14: Messy Dinner
For the next few days, the dining hall of Aethalgard became an awkward battlefield. Three prodigies always sat in the same table, but the silence between them was louder than any war drum.
Sylveria sat elegantly on the left, cutting her steak in perfect symmetry. Isla sat on the right, poking her food expressionlessly. And in between them sat Isao, who looked like she was about to explode from sheer boredom.
“Sooo…” Isao began with a grin, “how was training today?”
Silence.
Sylveria didn’t even look up from her plate. Isla didn’t blink. The only sound was the faint clink of a fork.
“Right. That good, huh?” Isao muttered. She forced a laugh. “Hehe… maybe we can all train together sometime?”
Sylveria sighed dramatically. “Please, Ayaka, I’d rather spar with a wall. At least the wall doesn’t talk so much.”
“Excuse me!?” Isao said, puffing her cheeks. “You’re so cold, Sylvie! Even colder than your ice magic!”
Sylveria smirked slightly. “It’s called composure. Something you clearly lack despite being a PRINCESS.”
Isao turned toward Isla. “Hey Isla, at least you agree with me, right?”
Isla slowly lifted her gaze, her expression blank. “…Annoying pinky.”
“Wha!? Again with that nickname!?” Isao shouted, grabbing her hair in frustration. “I told you my name is Isao! I-sa-o! Or Ayaka! Anything but pinky!”
Isla blinked once, unfazed. “…Still pink.”
Sylveria covered her mouth with a delicate laugh. “Hmph. For once, I agree with her. You do wear that ridiculous color too often.”
Isao’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ohhh, so that’s how it is?”
Before either could react, she grabbed a handful of beans from her plate and hurled them, perfectly aimed. One hit Sylveria square on the forehead. Another bounced off Isla’s cheek.
“Food fight?” Isla asked blankly, now holding her fork like a weapon.
Sylveria’s eyebrow twitched as she slowly wiped a bean from her hair. "Ayaka Kaminari,” she said in a dangerously calm tone, “I swear by the Silver Kingdom, you will regret that.”
“Bring it, blue blue~” Isao said, smirking and teasing with an annoyed expression.
“Don’t you dare call me—!” Before Sylveria could finish,
A bean bonked off Sylveria's forehead again from Isao's sudden throw.
Isla’s eyes slowly narrowed as she herself got hit again. “Annoying.”
And thus, the once elegant dining hall descended into chaos, plates clattering, beans flying, soup splashing and the faint sound of someone (probably Valerica) screaming, “Stop wasting food, you little monsters!”
When Cateleya walked in minutes later, the three prodigies were covered in beans, soup, mashed potato, and meat, staring at their plates like guilty children.
Cateleya sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “…You’re saints in training, not children at a banquet. Three days. No desserts.”
“NOOOOOOO!!!” Isao screamed, while Sylveria gasped in horror. Isla just muttered softly, “Annoying punishment…”
Cateleya turned away. “And make that four days.”
“WHAT!?” all three said in unison in their own respective tone.
Later that evening, after the three troublemakers had retreated to their own rooms, the dining hall of Aethalgard was once again peaceful, or as peaceful as it could be with the saints gathered together.
Pryce and Lady Solace sat on one end, quietly sipping tea, clearly wanting no part of the conversation. The Grand Saintess, Cateleya, was eating elegantly and silently at the head of the table, pretending not to hear a thing.
Three saints, Valerica, Accla, and Sayuri, were locked in what could only be described as a verbal sparring match.
Valerica slammed her spoon onto the table, frustration written all over her face. “How the heck are we supposed to teach those three comradeship if they’re like that!? It’s been two weeks since they met, and they still act like mortal enemies!” she then sat back and sip her tea to calm her nerves.
Sayuri calmly lifted her cup of tea, her expression cool and unbothered. “Maybe it’s because your student is… complicated.”
Valerica choked mid-sip, sputtering. “W–What!?” she coughed, glaring daggers. “Excuse me, Isla is an EXCELLENT student! She’s calm, disciplined, and a prodigy!”
Sayuri tilted her head innocently. “Mhm. She’s also cold, blunt, and apparently calls my sister ‘annoying pink’ every single meal.”
Accla snorted into her drink, trying and failing to hide her grin.
Valerica’s eye twitched. “At least she doesn’t throw beans at people like a five-year-old!”
Sayuri crossed her arms, her tone perfectly casual. “That’s called initiative. She’s trying to engage them in communication.”
“By assaulting them with legumes!?” Valerica snapped.
Pryce quietly pushed his cup down, whispering to Lady Solace, “I think we should move tables.”
Lady Solace nodded. “Agreed.” and the two left.
Meanwhile, Accla leaned back, hands behind her head, chuckling. “Oh please, you two are both exaggerating. My student—”
Valerica and Sayuri turned toward her in unison. “Your student froze half the dining hall last week because Isla said she is an eye-sore!”
Accla froze, her smile stiff. “…Minor setback.”
Sayuri smirked. “Minor? She nearly made a popsicle out of the staffs.”
Valerica crossed her arms, her smile sharp. “If we’re being honest, Accla, Sylveria’s temper makes Isla look saintly.”
Accla slammed her hands on the table. “For your information! Sylveria is just… passionate!”
Sayuri raised a brow. “Passionate? She tried to stab the word ‘rival’ out of existence.”
Cateleya sighed softly, still cutting her steak in silence.
Valerica leaned in, pointing her fork at Accla. “Face it, your student’s the reason mine won’t even say hello!”
Accla shot back, “Oh, please! Maybe if your precious Isla didn’t stare at everyone like they’re beneath her, Sylveria wouldn’t get so irritated!”
Sayuri smiled sweetly, enjoying the chaos. “At least both of your students feel something. Mine just laughs, talks, and throws beans like it’s a sport.”
Valerica blinked. “You sound proud.”
“I am,” Sayuri said, smirking. “At least Ayaka brings energy to the group. Someone has to make them react before they freeze the whole hall, or worse, bore us to death.”
“Cough, cough…” Accla cleared her throat, trying to sound composed, though the twitch in her eye betrayed her irritation. “For your information, your student is more of a troublemaker. She keeps talking even when it’s clear Sylveria and Isla don’t want to talk to her. And then she started throwing beans at the two while giving a mean look!” she said sternly, slamming her fork down for emphasis.
Sayuri’s smile twitched. “Haaa? Do you have any problem with my sister?” she said, standing up as her mana began to flare around her like heat waves.
Accla’s brow arched as she stood too, mana humming sharply around her like a thin blade. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Sayuri?”
Valerica raised her hands, sighing deeply. “Calm down, you two! This is the dining hall, not an arena.”
“Shut it, sword freak! This is all because of your student!” Sayuri and Accla snapped in perfect unison, both glaring at Valerica.
“Wha—Sword freak!?” Valerica’s eye twitched. “Excuse me!? And why are you two saying Isla’s the one at fault here!? She didn’t even do anything wrong!”
“She existed!” Sayuri shouted.
“She provoked Sylveria!” Accla added, crossing her arms.
“Provoked—? She was just training!” Valerica slammed her hands on the table, standing up and drawing a fraction of her blade, her aura slicing the air.
The tension in the room thickened instantly, three Saints glaring daggers, their mana surging like a storm ready to explode.
Pryce quietly took his cup and scooted to the farthest end of another table. Lady Solace followed without a word.
Then—
Clink.
Cateleya gently set down her porcelain teacup.
The sound was soft… too soft.
A sweet smile curved her lips—serene, angelic, and terrifying.
“My, my…” she said in a melodic voice, eyes still closed. “I leave you three alone for five minutes, and suddenly Aethalgard’s dining hall turns into a battlefield.”
Sayuri, Accla, and Valerica froze in place like children caught stealing cookies.
Cateleya opened her eyes, her smile still dazzling but her tone dripping with deadly sweetness. “If the next word out of any of your mouths involves your students, I’ll assign the three of you to personally train all three of them—together—in one room. For a month.”
Silence.
The three saints slowly sat back down, straightening their posture like well-behaved children.
“…Understood, Grand Saintess,” they said in unison.
Cateleya took another sip of her tea, smiling as if nothing happened. “Good girls.”
Pryce leaned toward Solace and whispered, “She’s scarier than Valerica’s sword aura.”
Solace nodded. “And more effective.”
