"What do you mean you don't like your house? Aren't nobles supposed to be super rich?" I leaned over the table, fork in one hand, the other already reaching for the next plate of pancakes before Cassiel could stop me. "You do have a mansion and all the servants filling your place for everything you need, don't you?"
Honestly, I couldn't wrap my head around it. I was still operating on Earth-logic where nobility meant yachts, wine cellars, and the kind of bathrooms you could get lost in.
The money in my status window wasn't even comparable to the pocket change of the smaller noble houses. And Cassiel wasn't just from some small noble house. He was from one of the biggest in the nation.
They were supposed to be swimming in gold coins like cartoon ducks in a vault.
"It's… not that." Cassiel's fork paused halfway to his mouth. "We may have money, but what does all that matter when you have to spend your entire life suspended in one place, learning only what they've engraved into you since birth?"
His voice was steady, but I caught the bitterness hiding underneath.
I stabbed another piece of pancake, chewing thoughtfully.
'Yeah, they apparently have pancakes here too!'
Somehow, they were even better than what I was familiar with.
Something about this world's ingredients made everything taste richer. The grains had more body, the syrup wasn't just sugar— it carried a faint floral tang like honey touched by magic.
'Even the butter melted smoother on the tongue. Earth's factory-stamped breakfast foods had nothing on this.'
Food in this world was unfair. Diversity of species, cooking techniques infused with mana, skills that literally flavored the dishes, enchanted cookware… it was like competing with cheat codes turned on.
Every bite felt like eating a distilled essence of nature.
I hummed, licking syrup from my fork. "So you don't want to be locked up like a bird in a gilded cage. You want to fly, huh?" My eyes carried a little envy when I looked at him this time. "That's why you chose adventuring. To escape the birdcage and maybe break a few bars along the way."
Cassiel's shoulders twitched as if he wasn't used to being seen through so easily. "Yes…" Was his simple answer as he took a bite from his spaghetti.
The place Reddy had dragged us to was fancy. White stone floors polished to mirror brightness, crystal mana-lamps dangling from the ceiling, tables with inlaid silver runes that kept food warm but never burned.
Waiters wore crisp uniforms, their movements so smooth they might as well have been enchanted themselves.
"This place has the best variety," Reddy had explained when I questioned the choice. "Bread and stew may be filling, but here? Here, you'll find the range."
She hadn't been lying.
In front of me was a battlefield of plates. Three servings of pancakes gone. Two plates of pasta devoured. A smoothie drained.
Now a plate of skewered grilled meat that smelled smoky and sweet at the same time.
"Can we have two more of these? And the shakes again, please. Thank you!" I called out cheerfully to the waitress.
Reddy buried her face in her hand for the third time at this scene. Cassiel blinked in disbelief as well, his fork still hovering before his mouth like he wasn't sure if I was joking.
The chefs here weren't just chefs… they were basically culinary mages.
Each dish carried faint traces of mana manipulation, spices perfectly blended with elemental precision. Even the water tasted like a bottled mountain spring fresh from the source.
It didn't have the heartwarming soul of the butter chicken Reddy and I had eaten earlier, but damn if this wasn't addicting.
"How are you eating so much? And where is all this food even going?" Reddy finally asked, her voice caught between awe and horror.
I patted my stomach with faux solemnity. "Truthfully, I have no idea either." I wasn't joking when I said that. "It's like there's a void in here demanding tribute. Food, good food as tribute."
It was probably a side effect of some sort. Using that much mental strength back in the dungeon while ghosting through the architecture had burned me out more than I realized.
Or maybe it was the assistance system guzzling resources like an always-on background process. Either way— details, schmetails.
'Hunger is the only curse I'll happily keep.'
Reddy sighed, pushing a newly served plate toward me. "Haaa… as long as you don't collapse, I suppose it's fine."
Cassiel hadn't finished his first plate yet, eating with precise, careful motions like a proper noble, even while his words soured the air.
"The people in my house," he said, setting his fork down, "are barbaric. Unethical. They steal, they destroy, they expand their forces without mercy… even against the weak. My family's power is soaked in blood."
The air around him shifted. His soft voice hardened with every word, and with it came a sharp fluctuation of mana. It rippled like heat off stone, his emotions leaking into the air.
I tilted my head, chewing slowly.
Cassiel wasn't just running away from responsibility. He was running from rot.
"…They should be inside the prisons," he finished quietly, "for the atrocities they've committed."
His hands trembled faintly before he clenched them tight in his lap.
Reddy looked at him, something sympathetic flickering in her blue eyes.
I, however, leaned forward, chin propped in my palm. "So what you're saying," I started slowly, "is that you're a runaway pretty boy noble who swapped a fancy cage for a dungeon deathtrap because you wanted freedom. And spaghetti."
Cassiel blinked, clearly unable to accept or deny my words. "That's… not…"
"Hey, no judgment." I grinned. "I'd pick spaghetti too if I were you."
For a moment, his composure cracked. The corners of his lips twitched upward, as if against his will. The meaning of metaphor represented freedom of the entangled straightness of the spaghetti, something this pretty body managed to understand clearly.
It was my victory this time as well.
Reddy groaned. "Aria…"
"What?" I sipped my shake. "I'm simply supporting his life choices."
As the guard captain, she may not like the disorder in her city caused by the hunting dogs of a noble family, but I had nothing to do with those people.
Cass was an individual who had all the right to live as he wanted.
Cassiel shook his head, but the mana around him steadied, softening like a storm passing. He wasn't smiling yet, but at least his eyes had lost that dangerous glint of rage.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward— it was grounding. Just three good friends, plates piled high, finding brief comfort in food and conversation.
After eating for about three hours straight and piling six plates, two piles of six, I stretched, patting my stomach in satisfaction. "Well, Cass, you've got your reasons, I've got my appetite, and Reddy's got… her eternal exasperation. We make a fine team."
Reddy muttered something about regret under her breath. She still didn't like how close I was to Cass. Follow current novels on novelꞁire.net
Cassiel just looked down at his plate, then back at me, eyes clearer now. "Maybe… you're right. Maybe I just wanted to fly."
I leaned across the table, poking his forehead with my fork. "Then flap harder, cutie. You've got the wings for it. Just don't let your family chain them again."
His expression froze for a moment as he probably thought back to his family's strengths, then softened the other moment, a faint pink dusting his pale cheeks.
Reddy made a strangled sound in her throat. "Aria, stop seducing every mage you meet!"
I winked at my first and favourite savior. "Sorry, occupational hazard."
The waitress arrived just in time with three more plates, mercifully interrupting the argument. I dove back in like nothing had happened, glancing at my Reddy to tease her with things she clearly did not like.
'It's fun teasing her, but this food is more precious.'
Because no matter how many noble tragedies or dungeon horrors loomed over us… right now, pancakes still needed eating.
The void in my stomach had still not closed yet…