Extravagant Banquet

"Very well, that's enough for today. You may rest now, Your Highness," said Archmage Hassel. He was very satisfied with Belorell's performance and focus, considering that the Regent's child had previously harbored a strong aversion to magic.

"Thank you, Hassel." Belorell smiled wearily, but didn't show it to the Sunreavers in front of him. He simply rallied his spirits and maintained this state until he bathed and went to bed.

"To be honest, I'm quite surprised." Hassel stroked his pointed beard. "At first, I wasn't sure I could teach you anything, but you've learned a lot. It seems the rumors in the kingdom aren't true; our prince has a very high talent for magic."

"People change, mentor."

When Belorell addressed him that way, Hassel was not yet used to it and only felt a little embarrassed.

"Before you came, I drove away six highly experienced magicians. My mother also often scolded me."

"Then I am honored to become your seventh magic mentor, and to teach you practical magic."

Belorell smiled. A day had passed. After seeing Hassel off, he brewed a pot of tea, picked out some pastries, placed them on a small table, and sat down to ponder the Archmage's words. Hassel was a Sunreavers from Dalaran, and also a subordinate of Aethas. It wasn't his mother's idea to make him his mentor; Belorell had personally invited him in a letter.

The reason for this deeply moved Belorell. From birth, he had believed he had no father, yet the truth was that his father was still alive; everyone said his father had died a glorious death in battle, but the truth concealed a painful past. The truth would inevitably be revealed, and it would surely unleash a cataclysmic upheaval. Was he prepared for it? Belorell didn't know. He only knew that if he continued to be a pampered regent, staying in the comfortable Silvermoon City, he would surely be swept away. Therefore, he had to make a change, like choosing a Sunreavers to teach him magic, so he could wield a power and also learn about Dalaran through Hassel. But Belorell knew his vision went beyond that.

"Could you leave me some drinks?"

Belorell stood up, turned around to look at the figure lifting the curtain, and said with a smile, "Aunt Vareesa." He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the Ranger-General's light footsteps.

"You've become much more polite, Belorell." Vareesa smiled in response and continued, "I just ran into Hassel, and he was singing your praises to me. Tell me, how did you win him over?"

"Some apprentice snacks, and some Greater Invisibility. It's hardly bribery." Belorell was referring to what he had learned.

Vareesa nodded and commented, "Your mother will be very happy, child."

"Speaking of which, I haven't seen my mother all day. You're here to see her, aren't you?"

A slight wrinkle appeared between the silver-haired Female Elf's brows. Belorell was unaware that his mother had gone to meet with Sylvanas. Vareesa, of course, knew, and therefore she hadn't come specifically to see Alleria.

"I'm here to see you."

"I?"

Vareesa smiled and nodded. "Tonight, Baron Satherril, the owner of the Satherril Manor, is hosting a banquet and has invited many nobles. We don't usually attend such occasions, but the Baroness said she would like to meet the Regent's children and hopes you can attend."

Belorell gave her a blank smile. "But I'm afraid you don't need to tell me personally, Aunt. I'd like to know what you think?"

"There's no need to hide it, Belorell. Your mother and I both know why you chose to become a Sunreavers mentor, and we're happy for your decision. But Quel'Thalas has more than just Sunreavers, doesn't it? Baron Satherril's invitation is an opportunity for you to truly connect with the Sin'dorei nobles."

"I... understand," Belorell said. He truly understood. He used to see some of Quel'Thalas's important figures almost daily, but it was always the same few. Now the world was changing rapidly, leaving him no room to remain stagnant, only knowing the glorious history of the Windrunner family, the origins of the Blood Knights, and the heroic tales of Ranger-Lord Lor'themar and his friend Halduron. He needed to truly understand this kingdom.

Previously, the Windrunner family was only responsible for guarding the kingdom, but now the task of this name was to guide the kingdom's future. His mother had been in power for nearly twenty years, which was nothing much for Elf. But things are unpredictable, and one day—and not only Alleria had told Belorell this—he would eventually take over his mother's position and become the leader of the Sin'dorei.

"Do you know how to deal with those good-for-nothings?" Vareesa asked.

Belorell nodded. Vareesa's term for those nobles was clearly derogatory, but Quel'Thalas couldn't do without these powerful families, such as Baron Satherril, who was very influential in Fairbreeze Village.

Vareesa reached out and straightened Belorell's clothes. "The news about your father has already spread in Quel'Thalas," she cautioned. "There will inevitably be people discussing it at the banquet; you'll have to deal with it yourself."

This suited Belorell perfectly. Someone had to step forward and explain; his mother, as regent, couldn't publicly condemn those with ulterior motives. But he could. Who would be wary of a naive Elf?

"Also, your mother has high expectations for your performance, so don't disappoint her."

These words made Belorell feel vaguely uneasy. Did her mother already know what happened at the banquet? Was this a test?

Years ago, when the Lich King was defeated, Silvermoon City held a grand celebration. However, that ceremony wasn't for the Sin'dorei to indulge in revelry; rather, it commemorated the end of the Northrend campaign and paid tribute to the fallen heroes. His mother, Alleria, personally presided over the ceremony. The entire process was solemn and dignified, with every soldier returning from the battlefield in attendance. The ceremony concluded with a modest banquet. In Belorell's eyes, it was the most solemn occasion he had ever witnessed.

But only today did he realize that his idea was wrong. As the carriage reached the bridge over the river, he heard the commotion from the Satherril Manor. Curiosity led him to order the coachman and servants to speed up, stop under a tree outside the manor, and then stay in the carriage to observe for a while.

The words "extremely luxurious" are no exaggeration to describe this banquet, which completely exceeded Belorell's imagination.

Beautiful banners hung throughout the manor, and lavish carpets were laid out on the ground. Fine wines and expensive pastries piled high on the tables. However, these decorations and consumables paled in comparison to the frenzy of the banquet's participants. Before arriving, Belorell had worried about what to wear. He decided against anything too formal, wanting others to know he was simply a guest of Baron Satherril, so he chose the most ordinary attire—a clean blue robe. Little did he expect that he would greatly overestimate the shamelessness of those enjoying themselves. Apart from a few busy service staff who were fully clothed, the other Elf were all wearing only their undergarments, completely unconcerned about their exposure. Some male Elf were surrounded by groups of voluptuous Female Elf; some Female Elf lay alluringly on the ground, using their seductive figures to attract a throng of eager gazes. Belorell took a deep breath; they seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

In the name of blood, have these people forgotten the dark past of Quel'Thalas? Belorell inadvertently felt as if he had arrived in the era when the Sunstrider family was in power, an era that had already passed, yet everything before him seemed to tell him that it had not.

"Absurd and terrible."

"Would you like to get off, Your Highness?" the coachman asked him, but Belorell remained silent, his gaze passing over the reveling Elf and fixed on the antique golden phoenix lanterns that illuminated the entire manor.

When a wine-serving waiter noticed his carriage, Belorell realized he could no longer delay. He beckoned the Elf over and said to him, "Go tell Baron Satherril that Belorell Windrunner has arrived."

At this moment, the attendant's expression clearly showed surprise. He was standing less than four feet away from Belorell. He was wearing the Silvermoon City uniform and was drenched in sweat from working for a long time. Perhaps he had noticed Belorell's carriage earlier, but he hadn't inquired about it in time, making the other party wait for so long. He apologized repeatedly for his negligence.

"Alright, go ahead."

On his return journey, he hastily placed the wine he was carrying on the steps of a fountain and rushed into the manor's tower. A short while later, two elves, a man and a woman, whose Elf was fairly formal, quickly emerged, brushing off all the guests who tried to strike up a conversation, and hurried toward the carriage of the most distinguished guest of the evening. Meanwhile, Belorell was already waiting for them outside.

"I can hardly believe my eyes," said the Elf who was walking in front, who must have been Baron Satherril. "We thought you wouldn't be coming, Your Highness. The banquet has been going on for several hours. I hope you don't mind."

"I apologize," Belorell responded in a deep baritone voice. "Perhaps I should give you a definitive answer, Your Excellency. But it is clear that you have hosted a wonderful banquet."

"Your arrival will only make it better." These words came from the woman beside Baron Satherril, clearly his wife. Belorell extended his hand in a friendly gesture, and as their hands clasped, he thought to himself: Sorry, not at all.

"Actually, I was quite surprised to receive your invitation. But I think I might make many friends at your banquet." Belorell's gaze passed over Baron Satherril's profile and looked behind him; clearly, he had become the center of everyone's attention. He noticed some Elf looking at him with confusion, while others were shining with admiration.

"Of course, you will get your wish. Please let us go inside to talk; we will have the best hospitality there."

They walked step by step into the manor, and as Belorell ventured deeper into the setting, a strange feeling pierced his heart. It couldn't be magic; it had to be something else. Nevertheless, Belorell continued to nod and greet the people lining both sides of the path.

Belorell didn't want to meet their gazes, worried he might reveal something. But he had to, and to make it easier to blend in, he told himself to see if he could spot one or two familiar faces in the naked crowd. Luckily, he didn't.

Stepping into the tower where the Sathalir had been, a wave of warmth washed over them. The interior of the round tower was much more orderly than the outside. There was a low table and a soft chair, with servants waiting nearby. After Belorell was seated, they dutifully poured wine and then retreated to the side.

"This doesn't seem like they thought I wouldn't come, Baron."

"You misunderstand, Your Highness. Whether you come or not, since we have extended an invitation, we must be prepared to treat you well." Baron Satherril snapped his fingers, and music from a harp emanated from the round tower.

Belorell sat quietly, sipping his wine and nodding to the Baron with a smile. Halfway through the music, Baron Satherril waved towards the door again, and several alluring Female Elf entered carrying various foods. Like the people outside, they were dressed only in their undergarments. Belorell blushed instantly, and the women surrounded him after setting down their offerings. An awkward silence fell over them.

"Your Highness." Sathalir noticed Belorell's shyness; anyone would feel awkward on their first occasion like this. The important thing was to help the Regent's son settle in. "I know you're busy every day in Silvermoon City learning the knowledge necessary to be a crown prince, but you should put your worries aside for now. It's only one night. Throw your worries into the water like stones. You can retrieve them when you return. Please enjoy yourself at my estate."

"That makes sense, Baron," Belorell replied politely, but a single sentence wasn't enough to calm his nerves. He had to shift his focus. When his gaze fell on the food on the table, he regained his composure completely.

Ice Moon Plum, Kodo Cheese, and Master Pastry that must be transported from Dalaran. These were all Belorell's favorites. But he had no appetite for them. How did Sathalir know he liked these things? Had he specifically investigated?

Just as Belorell was about to ask a question, a voice from outside interrupted him.

"Where are Alleria's little brats?"

Sathalir's face contorted in surprise, clearly taken aback by the sudden interruption.