Morning light filtered between the stone columns of the dining hall. It cast a pale gold sheen over the long, wide table. The dining hall in the Dardan Valley estate wasn't just for meals. It felt like a small great hall. Ready for a feast anytime. Epic tapestries hung on the walls. The air smelled of olive oil and fresh flatbread.
Aeneas walked in with Terani. Her steps were light, almost skipping like a young deer. She tugged his sleeve as they entered. Whispered urgently,
"Hurry up! I'm starving!"
Aeneas's lips quirked. A fond, exasperated smile. Really! Was this maid here to serve him, or just to mooch meals?
Anchises and Aresya were already seated at the table. They looked dignified, every inch the estate lord and priestess wife. Achates stood to the side. He was like a watchful statue. His eyes constantly scanned the room.
The table was laden with a hearty breakfast. A small mountain of grilled flatbread. Clay bowls brimming with olives and dried figs. Cheese cut into cubes. Amber honey and dark red wine.
"Father. Mother." Aeneas greeted them respectfully. But his tone held a hint of playful cheek, as if to puncture the overly solemn atmosphere. He nodded to Achates before sitting opposite his mother.
Terani dutifully took her place behind Aresya. She looked proper, but her eyes were glued to the center of the table like a kitten eyeing a fish. She secretly swallowed. Gulp.
Aeneas followed her gaze. His eyes swept casually, then stopped dead. The centerpiece was a stunning 'main event'— a huge eggshell, cut in half.
Inside, a golden dish. Topped with green herbs.
It looked like a feast from myths.
He blinked. A thought popped into his head, nearly spoken aloud: —An ostrich egg?! That's rare around the Aegean! A luxury you'd get from Africa or Arabia, right? Since when is my family this wealthy? This lavish for breakfast?
"Mother, this is…?" Aeneas looked up. His eyes were wide. His face was a picture of confusion. He leaned in closer.
Aresya seemed to have expected his reaction. The corner of her lips lifted slightly. She elegantly gestured toward the egg dish. "Yes, my little hero. A gift from a Cyrenean merchant. I thought, after your ordeal, you needed building up." Her tone was light, but her eyes held a mother's unmistakable fondness.
Anchises gave a slight nod beside her. His face was serious, but calm. Achates said nothing. His eyes lingered on the giant egg, curious.
As for Terani, she was already mesmerized.
Aeneas saw her. He coughed. Adults not watching, he winked. Mouthed quietly, "I'll share later."
The little maid's eyes instantly shone brighter than honey. She almost giggled aloud.
Time passed. Plates were pushed aside. The sweet scent of honey and goat cheese gradually faded. Only the aroma of flatbread remained.
Breakfast was drawing to a close. Anchises slowly set down his knife and fork. Aresya elegantly folded her napkin. Aeneas habitually took a sip of wine to clear his palate. A final note to the meal.
The servants understood at once. They stood quietly by the wall, hands neatly clasped, eyes lowered. This was noble etiquette. Servants waited to eat. Only after masters finished.
Even Achates, a guard captain, had to stand like a statue. Though his nostrils twitched slightly. He was clearly not immune to the aroma.
Terani stood just as straight. Her eyes forward. The picture of a perfect maid. Unfortunately, her mouth betrayed her—a tiny smear of golden honey, like mischievous evidence, glistened at the corner of her lips.
Aeneas almost laughed aloud. Ha. The little one's snack-stealing skills were improving. But she'd forgotten to wipe her mouth. Busted.
Even funnier, her eyes were an open book. They kept darting sneakily toward one corner of the table. Like a kitten chasing a ball of yarn—that's where Aeneas had "deliberately left" the delicacies. Especially that spoonful of ostrich egg.
Good thing he'd been quick to save some. Good things were meant to be shared. This era had its rules, but rules shouldn't starve an appetite. He'd sneak portions to Achates and Terani later. A reward for their loyalty.
Aeneas looked up. His eyes met Terani's. The little maid's eyes sparkled. Blink-blink. As if thanking the Young Master for his generosity with her gaze.
The Young Master smiled faintly. He raised an eyebrow. Made a subtle wiping motion near his own mouth.
The little maid's eyes widened in understanding. She bowed her head at once. Not noticing her hand smeared the honey. Making the mess worse.
Aeneas pressed his lips together, suppressing a chuckle. The solemn noble breakfast had suddenly turned into a secret gathering among friends.
Anchises set down his heavy clay cup. The sound was starkly clear on the table. His movements were precise. He carefully wiped his beard with a linen napkin. Then he deliberately cleared his throat.
The cough silenced the clatter of cutlery and any whispers.
Aeneas looked up. He met his father's stern, yet calm, gaze. He knew this wasn't just a throat-clearing. There was something to be said.
Anchises's eyes were as severe as ever. But looking closer, a thread of concern lay deep within.
"Aeneas," he began, his tone steady as stone. "Your injuries… How are they?"
Across the table, Terani immediately straightened up. Her eyes darted furtively toward the Young Master. She seemed more nervous than he was. Achates remained silent. But he subtly clenched the fingers held behind his back. He was clearly concerned too.
Aeneas felt a warmth in his chest. But he deliberately straightened his back. He offered a reassuring smile to his parents. "Father, don't worry. Just superficial wounds. I felt much better after a night's rest. Look—" He flexed his arm. The muscle tensed cleanly. "I was able to train as usual this morning."
Anchises's brow relaxed slightly. A weight seemed to lift, but not completely. He nodded slowly. His fingers unconsciously rubbed the edge of the table. He pondered for a moment before speaking. "Since your wounds are not serious… Then, the matter of the sacrifice we discussed previously. Have you considered performing it today?"
Aeneas was momentarily taken aback. But he quickly understood the weight of his father's words. This sacrifice wasn't a casual ritual—it concerned honor and divine favor.
Anchises's voice was low and solemn. Like reciting an ancient vow. "As you intended. The adult boar you killed with the wooden sword. Offer it to your mother, Aphrodite. Give thanks for her protection. And the wooden sword itself. Offer it to the Goddess Athena. As a sign of our respect for the courage and wisdom she granted you."
His words hung in the air for a moment. The atmosphere grew still.
Aeneas's gaze shifted slightly. A wooden sword and a wild boar. To a modern eye, perhaps mundane. But here, they symbolized faith and duty. The actions expected of a lord's son.
Beside the table, Terani couldn't hide her expressions. Her eyes danced between Aeneas and Anchises. It felt less like a ritual. More like the start of an adventure.
The last wine clung to the cups. Servants quietly cleared the dishes.
Aeneas raised an eyebrow. He forced a relaxed smile, lightening the mood. "Then we must prepare a proper, grand ceremony for Lady Athena, mustn't we?"
In the delicate quiet that followed, Aresya slowly set down her linen napkin. Her brow was slightly furrowed. Worry passed over her face like a thin cloud across the moon. Gentle, but visible.
"Anchises," she turned to her husband. Her voice was soft, but held a thread of urgency. "Aeneas suffered a fright and injuries only yesterday. Let him rest for today."
Aeneas just lifted his cup. He almost choked. Coughed a few times to cover it. He saw his mother's eyes. A perfect blend of affection and reproach.
Of course, she turned to him. Her tone was full of gentle accusation. "I heard from the servants you were training in the courtyard at dawn. Quite vigorously. My child, the body needs time to heal. You mustn't rush."
Terani stood nearby, her posture elegant. But hearing this, her little head bobbed in vigorous agreement. Her face clearly said, You should listen to your mother, Young Master.
Aeneas could only wink at her. The girl responded by wrinkling her nose slightly, reproaching him for treating her like a child again.
Aresya ignored their silent exchange. Her tone was even, carrying a priestess's dignity and expertise. "Furthermore, Anchises. Today is only the second day after the crescent moon. Tomorrow is the birthday of the Goddess Athena. For Aeneas to go to Troy tomorrow and offer the wooden sword to Athena… the timing is more appropriate. It shows greater piety."
She paused. Her fingers traced the tablecloth edge. She looked at her son. Thinking how to make the sacrifice grand. "The day after tomorrow is the holy day of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty. To schedule the boar sacrifice for that day, walking from the estate to the temple for his mother goddess… It would be most fitting. A sign of devout respect."
She spoke not just as a mother, but as a temple priestess.
Aeneas felt a warmth in his heart. But he deliberately played the obedient son. He nodded. "Thank you, Mother. We'll follow your schedule." His tone was light, slightly teasing, to ease her worries.
Anchises said nothing more. His hand rested on his oak walking stick. His eyes moved between his wife and son. Finally, he relaxed. He gave a slight nod. A simple, steady "Hmm" was his only reply.
The atmosphere in the hall softened. Like embers in a brazier. Burning quietly. Stable and warm.
Breakfast was over. The table had only olive pits, crumbs, and half-eaten cheese.
Under his parents' eyes, Aeneas gave a proper bow. Textbook perfect.
Then he practically fled the dining hall.
"Gods," he groaned inwardly, moving with the agility of a scout evading enemy patrols. "A forty-five-year-old single homebody soul, getting the full parental concern treatment from both sides... It's heartwarming, and utterly suffocating! Impossible to refuse."
He thought about turning back. That meant his mother's worried eyes. His father's stern frown. Just thinking it nearly made him walk into a stone column in the hall.
Worse was the little imp beside him—Terani, bouncing along, added in a gleeful whisper, "Young Master, your face went all stiff! Like a fish about to be grilled!"
Aeneas rolled his eyes. Then reached out—ruffled her hair, just to be annoying. She slapped his hand away. Fast and no hesitation.
But as his steps carried him out of the dining hall, a quiet warmth settled in his chest.
"Allen's parents have been gone for years," a voice murmured inside him. "But Aeneas's parents… they genuinely care. This feeling… it's not bad."
He took a deep breath, as if shaking off the jumble of emotions. His spine straightened. His gait regained an officer's composure.
"Right," he muttered to himself, a slight smile touching his lips. "Time to execute my own plan—the territory reconnaissance mission."
With that, he strode toward the sunlight outside the manor. His dark gold curls shifted in the morning breeze. He looked every bit the young commander setting out, full of vigor.
Just then, Achates came hurrying from a side door. He was practically wolfing down a half-piece of flatbread, chewing hastily. The remaining crust was clutched in his hand like a potential weapon.
"Hey!" he said, slightly breathless but firm. "Your wounds just healed, and you're running off alone? Need company?"
Aeneas, who had been walking briskly down the stone path of the front colonnade, stopped. He turned to see Achates's stern face, a bread crumb stuck at the corner of his mouth. The man stood like a human wall ready for battle.
"Haha, that face of yours," Aeneas couldn't help but laugh. He clapped Achates's solid shoulder. "Relax, brother! I'm Aeneas, son of a goddess! Besides, I'm just strolling around my own lands. What danger could there be?"
Achates's brow remained furrowed. He didn't seem ready to let this go easily.
Aeneas sighed internally. His mind raced like a checklist. Recon is the priority! Economic status, tech level... military readiness... How can I start my 'resource-building plan' without solid intel? Can't rely on guesses.
He plastered on a breezy smile. He spoke to Achates as if soothing a child. "Tell you what. Go back and finish your meal. Keep an eye on the sacrifice preparations for me. I'm just taking a quick walk. I'll be back soon." His tone was natural, but it held the subtle weight of a 'task assignment'.
Sure enough, Achates hesitated. He waved the half-eaten bread vaguely. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod.
"Fine, Young Master," he rumbled, his eyes still wary. "But don't make me wait long. Or I'll have to come find you again."
Aeneas chuckled to himself. He waved a hand and turned toward the sunlit courtyard.