Chapter 14: Lunch With the Enemy

Chapter 14: Lunch With the Enemy

Halcyon Fold’s dining hall looked more like a diplomatic summit than a place to eat.

Vaulted ceilings arched over color-coded tables — each shaped like a flower and very intentionally segregated by family crest. Servants moved between them with silent grace. Decorative banners shifted color depending on who had the highest grades that week.

Ethan strolled in humming The Imperial March under his breath, hands in his pockets, smile ready to offend.

Milo trailed behind, visibly bracing for embarrassment. Whisp peeked out of Ethan’s hood and muttered, “Smells like salted ego in here.”

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“New student,” a steward said politely, gesturing to a free table near the back. No crest. No decoration. The “Miscellaneous” table.

Perfect.

Ethan dropped into the seat like it was a throne, threw his feet up, and nodded to the three other students already there — all of whom shifted uncomfortably like they’d just seen a feral possum pull up a chair.

Milo took the seat next to him and immediately began scanning his meal for enchantments.

“Is the pudding glowing?” he whispered.

“Only with resentment,” Ethan said, scooping a bite.

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Across the hall, a table of nobles watched him.

The Virestones. The Florentes. A few whose names Ethan didn’t know but could already tell were about three spoonfuls of soup away from declaring social war.

One of them — a tall girl with ink-black hair and an orchid sigil at her collar — leaned toward her seatmate and whispered loudly enough for Ethan to hear:

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

> “He’s the one with the cult. The one who dueled Roderic. They say his sword talks back.”

Another added, “I heard he hacked the Frame. You know. Illegally.”

Ethan raised his spoon and toasted them with pudding. “Everything you heard is wrong. Except the parts that scare you.”

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A server placed a sealed scroll on his tray without a word.

Ethan opened it.

No sender. No signature.

Just three lines:

> You’re not the only one with a god inside. You’re not the first to fake your way in. And you won’t be the last to bleed.

Whisp leaned over the rim of his pocket. “You collect death threats like trading cards.”

“Yeah,” Ethan murmured. “And I think I just pulled a foil.”

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Then someone stood up.

A boy in fine robes and the unmistakable green-trimmed badge of the Wyrnhollow Line — a family known for their subtlety, poison mastery, and duel-happy tendencies.

He walked straight toward Ethan’s table.

Straight past him.

And pointed at Milo.

“You there. Assistant. Stand and defend yourself. Your master’s actions have insulted my family’s honor.”

Milo froze, mouth open, fork mid-air.

“I’m not—”

“He accepts,” Ethan said cheerfully, standing up and clapping Milo on the back. “He’s shy, but very stabby.”

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The hall went dead silent.

Milo sputtered. “WHAT—?!”

“It’ll be fine,” Ethan whispered. “Just do what you always do. Panic, survive, and blame me.”

Seraine, their combat instructor, appeared like a summoned curse.

She gave Milo a bored once-over. “Well? You’ve been challenged. Academy rules say you must respond.”

Milo stood shakily. “I, um. Object. I’m a research student. I have no weapon—”

Ethan tossed him the snarky, spirit-forged practice sword from earlier.

The blade groaned, “Oh no. Not this one.”

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The duel was scheduled for sunset.

Milo was doomed.

Unless, of course, Ethan did what Ethan does best:

Sabotage. Inspiration. Distraction. And possibly impersonating the school nurse.

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> [SYSTEM SNAPSHOT – NODE BETA-9] Passive Effect: Social Instigator – Nearby allies are 22% more likely to be challenged to duels

>

> Reputation: Nobility Circles: “Unstable. Charismatic. Possibly divine.” Reputation: Servant Staff: “Weirdly polite. Tipped in talismans.”

>

> New Side Quest: Duel Intervention – “Milo Must Survive” Objective: Prepare, train, and/or cheat enough to make sure your maybe-servant doesn’t get vaporized at sunset. Reward: Increased Milo loyalty. Decreased noble patience.