The Banquet (Part Two)

Edward sat down in his place at the long table and immediately felt that something was a little off.

According to the customs of this world, which Edward had been cramming for, the hosts of the banquet, male and female, should sit at opposite ends of the long table. The closer a guest sat to either end, the more distinguished they were. His own place was a little strange. When he gave his name, a servant had led him to the seat beside the hostess's right hand. That made him the third most honored guest at the banquet.

Only when he saw who sat at the other end of the table, on either side of the host, did he understand: Lady Kaitlyn and the bishop sat there. Next came the Speaker of the Assembly and the mayor of City Hall, while the Baby-faced Pastor sat opposite him. This world clearly placed Caster above all others. Casters ranked somewhat higher than warriors of the same standing.

His arrival represented not only himself but the entire Alchemist Association. Though he was still a one-man operation, his status had quietly made him the third most important guild leader in White Eagle City.

Just then, a short, chubby young man in a knight's uniform appeared beside him. He looked about the same age as the Baby-faced Pastor. He was short and stocky, with a fierce-looking, round face. Yet an air of danger emanated from him almost casually, as though he were some man-eating beast.

The guests were still arriving, and many servants had already begun bustling about, serving the food. The chubby young man paid no heed to anything and tore a drumstick off the roasted turkey on the table.

He wolfed down a couple of bites, then, feeling them catch in his throat, grabbed a full mug of beer and gulped it down.

He let out a long breath and said,

"This beer's pretty good. Much better than the watery stuff they served in past years."

Only then did he notice Edward beside him. He looked Edward up and down, then said with a strange expression,

"You're that capable alchemist, right? I'm George. I hear you're trying to court my sister?"

Edward stared at the chubby young man in confusion. Your name is George? Who's trying to court your sister? Is your sister Peppa? In my previous life, Peppa was the 'Queen of Product Placement' in the world of animation, selling over two billion dollars' worth of merchandise every year. But Peppa and I aren't even the same species.

Just then, a delicate hand smacked the chubby young man hard on the head. He ducked, clutched the sore spot, and looked back.

Edward hadn't had time to turn around when he heard a familiar, pleasant voice scold,

"George, you have no manners! You're eating and drinking before the banquet has even begun. And where's your formalwear? Aren't you embarrassed?"

The chubby young man clutched his head and retorted,

"Andrea, you used to wear your knight's uniform every year. Now that you've put on a dress, you think you can boss me around?"

Princess Andrea stood behind them in all her finery. She wore an elegant, royal-blue gown, paired with dazzling gemstone earrings and a necklace. Her hair was pinned up, and she wore the princess's jeweled crown, along with delicate makeup. Edward lost himself in the sight of her for a moment.

Only then did he notice that the princess and the chubby young man had the same hair and eye color. He realized,

"Your Highness, is this your younger brother?"

Princess Andrea pretended not to hear or see him. She rolled her eyes prettily, deliberately looked away, and went to take her place at the hostess's seat.

Edward then remembered that, according to the customs of this world, if the host's wife had passed away, the eldest daughter usually took her place and welcomed the guests.

Realizing he'd made a fool of himself, Edward fell silent too. He sat awkwardly beside the princess, occasionally glancing at the ugly ring on the middle finger of her left hand.

The princess seemed to have a sixth sense. She snatched her hand beneath the table as if she'd touched something hot.

The chubby young man beside them cleared his throat and put on a stern air.

"Now that you know who I am, you should hurry up and pay your respects to Young Master George."

"Young Master George?" Edward thought it over. It made sense to call a duke's son a young master, but why did it sound so awkward?

Princess Andrea turned and glared fiercely at her younger brother.

By then, the Grand Duke of White Eagle had taken his place at the other end of the long table. He looked to be in his forties, not yet fifty, and was tall and well-built. His short blond hair was neatly combed, and his mustache was carefully trimmed. He wore a marshal's uniform with gold-fringed epaulettes, and his chest was adorned with a sash and a variety of medals.

This was the most common formal attire for male nobles across the Old and New Continents, especially the highest leaders of a country. After all, no one had ever decreed what a national leader's uniform should look like, and the martial nobles usually wore military dress.

In Edward's eyes, he was a handsome older gentleman. No wonder the princess was so beautiful—good genes.

While he was lost in thought, Andrea quietly tugged at his sleeve and cleared her throat.

Only then did Edward realize that everyone else had stood up, while he was still sitting there as calm as could be. He hurried to his feet, but rose so abruptly that he knocked over the chair behind him.

After a flurry of fumbling, he righted the chair, then gave the Grand Duke at the head of the table an awkward grin.

The Grand Duke of White Eagle, who had raised his glass and was about to deliver the New Year's toast, barely twitched at the corner of his mouth. The young talents seated in the middle of the table, including Francois and Reinhardt, snickered. The sharp ears of the few "professionals" present could even pick out words like "bumpkin."

Edward didn't care, but Princess Andrea beside him blushed a little.

When everyone had quieted down, the White Hawk Duke began his toast.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. Let us raise our glasses together and celebrate the arrival of the new year..."

The toast was unexpectedly brief. Everyone drained their glasses, and the New Year's banquet began.

Edward glanced around. This was just a year-end banquet for a duchy, much like his company's annual party in his previous life. It was as if the chairman of a big company called White Eagle had invited all the managers, key employees, and important client representatives to share a meal at the end of the year.

There weren't many formalities. Everyone ate and drank while chatting quietly with the guests beside or across from them. The atmosphere was quite relaxed.

It was just that Princess Andrea on his left was pretending not to know him, apparently still angry about the ring. "Young Master George" on his right was busy stuffing himself without even looking up. The Baby-faced Pastor opposite him had his eyes narrowed in a knowing smile as he ate and sipped his tea at a leisurely pace. All Edward could do was quietly lower his head and eat.

Just then, snippets of whispered conversation reached his ears. For instance, he overheard this exchange:

"Who's that fellow sitting beside the princess?"

"Isn't that Pastor Elvin?"

"No, I know the pastor. I mean the one on his left."

"Oh, you mean him. You don't know? He's the newly appointed branch president of the Alchemist Association in White Eagle City."

"Where's he from?"

"I hear he's a local."

"A local? I've never heard of a local family producing a Caster."

"I heard he's a blacksmith's son. He was one of the Caster candidates chosen when the Magic Academy expanded its enrollment a few years ago and came to the New Continent to scout for them."

"Someone actually came back? I thought they all stayed in the Central Lands. Looks like this guy's ambitious. He gave up a chance to advance and came back for some other purpose."

"Can't you tell what he's after? Look over there. See that young master from Highland Castle? He offered a thousand gold to buy the seat beside the princess, but Butler Hunter wouldn't sell it. Guess how much this new president paid?"

"Damn... Are alchemists really that rich?"

"Who knows? Look, Her Highness won't even speak to him. His money was clearly wasted."

"Heh, a toad dreaming of eating swan meat. Does he think becoming a Caster makes him a noble? It takes three generations to cultivate a real noble."

"Exactly. He'd be better off like the Fishermen's Association president, that pirate chief, and marry a girl from a fallen noble family in the Central Lands to improve his bloodline."

Edward grimaced. What do you know? A toad dreaming of eating swan meat is just a fantasy, but a swan eating a toad is business as usual!

Just then, a familiar female voice reached his ears.

"How's your dance pwactice going?"

Edward started and glanced around. No one nearby was looking at him. Then he suddenly understood. He turned toward Andrea, who was raising her glass to a woman in the distance.

"Don't look at me... This is ventwiloquism... only you can hear me!"

Of course I know it's ventriloquism. Monica's ventriloquism is much better than yours. The problem is, how am I supposed to answer you? I can't do ventriloquism!

Then he remembered Pastor Elvin's trick of writing with tea. He dipped a finger in the tea, preparing to write on the table...

Just then, he felt something hard poke his thigh beneath the tablecloth.

My little one had to be hospitalized today to have their tonsils removed. (By the time you read this, they should be nearly ready to come home.) I also got a message from the site saying I can't stop updating. Luckily, I had a few chapters saved up. All I want to say is, you can safely add this to your collection now.