"Bienvenue, Monsieur, Mademoiselle.1 Do you have reservations?"
The waiter spoke with a flourish, his accent so thick and dramatic it felt like he had practiced it in front of a mirror every morning since birth. He was dressed to the nines, his suit so sharp it could cut bread.
Alex Drakonis stepped down from their gold-and-maroon carriage with the grace of a man who had mastered the art of looking important while secretly wondering if he had gotten the time wrong. He adjusted his coat, gave a quick glance to the Drakonis crest emblazoned on the carriage to remind himself he was indeed fancy, and then turned to his daughter.
"Yes, reservations, the... uhh— The Secret Garden." Alex's voice carried a confidence that implied he frequented such establishments, but his slight hesitation made it clear he was just following what the booking assistant had scribbled down for him.
Amber looked up at her father with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Why the sudden decision to dine somewhere so fancy? Did you win a bet or something?"
Alex smirked, holding her hand tightly. "Consider this your last supper."
Amber froze mid-step. "My... what now?"
"Before you're thrown into the wilds of dorm life," Alex added with a dramatic sigh, as if the mere mention of dormitories summoned memories of a tragic past. "Dorm food, Amber. It's a battlefield. You're about to embark on a war where survival depends on how well you can stomach things that shouldn't legally be called food."
Amber blinked at him, confused but now mildly alarmed. "How bad could it really be?"
Amber was looking forward to her first day in school, she was so set on January second that it felt like like she was going to age just waiting a week before the new year.
"Bad, as in, you'll wonder if the cooks are trying to assassinate you. That bad," Alex whispered as the waiter began escorting them to their room.
Amber, the composed noble daughter, tried to hide her growing apprehension behind a calm exterior. But her voice betrayed her. "Do you think I can survive it, Dad?"
Alex leaned in conspiratorially. "Some noble kids throw up for the first week. Others cry themselves to sleep. The rest just accept their fate and hope they don't develop a mysterious rash."
Amber's wide eyes darted to his face, searching for any sign of a joke. There was none. "A... rash?! You're joking, right?"
Alex simply gave her a serene, fatherly smile. "You'll be fine. Probably."
Whatever excitement she was having from going to school was all stripped down as if was heading to Jail on the second day of the new year. And she knew nothing about jails, she somehow wished she had read more books like Judge to gain knowledge.
By the time they reached The Secret Garden, Amber's mind was spinning with horrifying images of unidentifiable gruel and weeping aristocrats. The door to the room snapped her out of her panic. Decorated with vines, flowers, and so much greenery it looked like someone had dragged a greenhouse indoors, it was breathtaking.
Amber's eyes lit up. "Wow, it's beautiful!"
"Par ici, invités distingués.1" The waiter opened the door with a theatrical bow, revealing a room that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a fairytale.
"Merci monsieur"1 Alex returned the bow with a very slight one. Receiving a smile from the waiter.
The meal began with a basket of freshly baked bread served alongside a tiny saucer of butter shaped like a rose. Amber, while cautiously nibbling on the bread, couldn't help but glance suspiciously at every dish the waiters brought.
"Eat up, Amber," Alex said cheerfully, carving into his steak. "You'll miss this kind of food soon enough."
Amber pushed a piece of asparagus around her plate. "Are you sure the dorm food is that bad? Maybe you're exaggerating."
Alex put down his fork, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Amber, let me tell you about the time I was at the Royal Academy. The first night, they served something called 'meat stew.' It was neither meat nor stew. To this day, I'm convinced it was some kind of alchemy experiment gone horribly wrong."
Amber giggled despite herself. "What did you do?"
"I did what any young noble would do. I bribed the kitchen staff to sneak me bread rolls. Cost me my allowance, but I didn't starve."
Amber shook her head, laughing. "You're terrible."
"Hey, I can at least give you more allowance, although you cannot use money inside school, you can very well use it if you know how to."
"Is it not allowed or something? Or is it just there is nothing to buy?"
"Both, but you need money if you decide to adventure out. The school doesn't ban that" Alex ate another piece of asparagus.
The waiter arrived with the next course: a beautifully plated dish of roasted duck with a raspberry glaze. Amber hesitated before taking a bite, and when she did, her eyes widened. "This is amazing!"
"Enjoy it while you can," Alex said, sipping his wine. "Next week, you'll be eating something they call 'mystery casserole.' And massive spoiler: the mystery is what it used to be before it got cooked."
Amber groaned, laughing. "Okay, okay, I get it. Dorm food is bad. Stop scaring me!"
Alex leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Fine, I'll stop. But let me give you some advice."
Amber raised an eyebrow. "Here we go."
"Life at the academy will throw all kinds of challenges at you. Politics, rivalries, professors who think they're gods... but you know what'll keep you grounded?"
Amber leaned in, expecting something profound.
Alex grinned. "Snacks. Always keep snacks hidden. A bag of candied nuts can solve more problems than you'd think."
Amber burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. "You're impossible!"
Alex laughed "Always remember, no matter how your day goes, you've got a home full of love waiting for you. I'm here to listen, to cheer you on, and sometimes… to share a snack when things feel tough."
A smile crept up on Amber's lips, "Thanks, dad."
By the time the next dish arrived—a soup with water clear enough to reflect her face—But Amber was too relaxed and giggling to notice.
Alex looked at her fondly. "You'll do great, Amber. Just remember, no matter how bad the dorm food gets, you're a Drakonis. We survive anything."
Amber smiled, feeling a little braver about the journey ahead. "Thanks, again, Dad. Even if you're a bit... dramatic."
Alex chuckled. "Comes with the territory. Now, pass the truffle. I need to eat enough to make up for the meals I'll miss when I come visit you at school."
But before he could dig into his truffle soup, his face turned serious for a brief moment, Clarus is being attacked now? But it is still evening, did they make a mistake? Or is that person intervening?
"What are you thinking about dad?" Amber had yet to notice the soup.
Alex's face returned to normal. "Nothing Amber, just enjoy the dish."
This way, distinguished guests.