Marriage With You: A Fate or A Woe?

Chapter 3: First Misunderstanding

Two days has passed since the engagement has been settled and officially announced publicly. To say that it had been dropped like an explosion is rather an understatement. Just like flames, the word spread across, devouring every inch of those who has even the slightest bit of curiosity in them.

"It might be just a hoax?"

"They're conspiring to overthrow the Imperial Eagle Family!"

"Are they out of their minds?"

Well, of course, not every person would receive the news as it is delivered to them. Some are indifferent while others tend to implant entirely new assumptions in their own mind. As the latter applies very well with the eldest son of the Baroque household.

"Lord Lancelot! H-hold on!" The servant pleaded weakly to his raging master. "T-The head is still in the middle of his meal, spare him a moment, I implore you...!"

"Unbelievable! How could he dine peacefully after he made an outrageous decision!?"

It's no use. He couldn't be stopped. Despite the staffs did their best to ease Lancelot, he's a stubborn one when his beloved sister is concerned. He took each of his steps faster and in every second that he has yet to face his father he grow more agitated. His expressions leaving the staffs trembling and hesitant to step forward to calm him.

"W-What should we do...? At this rate, the strain between them will worsen...!" The maid clenched on the butler's shoulder, both of them clearly on their edge already.

"... Yes, I'm afraid that is the case in this one..." He said while tensely pulling a handkerchief from his suit jacket's pocket to wipe his sweat. The maid is unpleased with what she has heard, she began shaking the butler aggressively.

"Don't just spat me those words! Do something!"

"What am I supposed to do! Lord Lancelot is clearly beyond persistent now!"

Clack--

The sound of the doorknob opening and closing echoed the hallway, startling the two arguing staffs. It was already too late. The two of them looked at each other, "Good heavens..."

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Lancelot entered the dining hall, panting in agitation. He made sure to appear raged to let his father know how far he went this time.

"Father! Explain! Right this instant!" He tossed a page of a newspaper on the table and the head simply looked at it blankly.

Compared to his son, he's rather expressionless. As if he already expected to be interrupted at any point in the current day. He slowly placed down the fork that was halfway to his mouth and cleared his throat, preparing himself to a possible unfriendly chat with his eldest son.

"To start things, welcome home, Lancelot." He greeted him. "Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He invited him while gesturing him to sit down beside him.

"Truthfully, I do not have the capability to stomach anything as of the moment..." Lancelot responded.

"My, that's quite unfortunate..."

"And who's fault do you think that is!?" The son yelled at his father's half-baked concerned tone.

"I assume that you blame me for whatever it is that put you off?" The head's tone shifted from willy nilly to instant seriousness. His sudden firmness caused Lancelot to inch back slightly, "T-That's right...!"

The head took a napkin and wiped his mouth, signalling the maids that he's done eating. They immediately motioned to clean the table infront of him, three to four staffs walked in sync and skillfully. Even though the head's plate is yet finished, they picked it up regardless and collected the variant of dishes that is laid supposedly for him to eat. The amount of food that is bared is abundant, a drooling sight for anyone. One of the maids felt more and more disheartened at each plate of dish she picks up all knowing where it goes after--- as nobles do not take leftovers for later meals. That sight alone shows how lavish the Baroque household live their lives.