Extra-Changing Fate

Chapter 7 ==Lunch with Grandfather==

"You're not going to have lunch with us?"

Father's voice carried a hint of surprise as his eyes scanned my attire, a carefully chosen outfit I knew Grandfather would approve of.

"Where are you off to? Do we need to go over the family rules with you again?" he questioned, a sigh escaping my lips as I met his gaze.

"Grandfather requested my presence. He invited me to dine with him this noon, and I'm not in a position to decline such an invitation," I explained, watching as his posture stiffened.

Grandfather... the mere mention of him could send shivers down spines. Father, more than anyone, understood the formidable nature of the former Grand Duke.

"Fine... you may go," he conceded, his tone subdued. I offered a respectful bow. "I'll see you at dinner, Father," I said before turning to leave, catching the fleeting sadness in his eyes.

Why?

Because Grandfather had never extended such a private dining invitation to Father.
Father had no siblings, making him the sole inheritor of the Duchy, a position he'd prepared for with rigorous training. Yet, a private meal with Grandfather had remained elusive, their interactions limited to formal banquets and family gatherings.

In Father's eyes, my summons to Grandfather's table seemed to diminish him, highlighting the differences between us.

And he'd never even met his own mother...
That was right...

The greatest enigma within this empire: who was the former Grand Duchess of Silverton?
Grandmother, or former Grand Duchess Veronica Silverton, had been the only daughter of her time, thus inheriting the Duchy. But a veil of mystery shrouded her existence. She had never once ventured outside the family estate.
Furthermore, the circumstances of her meeting with her husband remained a puzzle.

Grandfather, the third prince of the Western Empire, had relinquished his royal status to marry Grandmother years ago.

Perhaps his family had opposed their union, despite Grandmother being the heir to the prestigious Silverton Duchy.

Their wedding had been a small affair, attended only by Grandmother's parents.
But what truly baffled me was the complete absence of her portrait anywhere in the house, not even a single one.

And Father knew nothing of his own mother, having been raised solely by Grandmother's nanny, who had passed away when he was eighteen.

I couldn't fathom why Grandfather had concealed Grandmother's existence... it was a profound mystery.

"Welcome, Young Lady Alyssa. Your Grandfather is waiting in the dining hall," the same maid who had delivered the letter yesterday informed me.

I bowed in acknowledgment as she returned the gesture. I then proceeded towards Grandfather's private dining hall, a place no one other than him had ever entered.

Even the maids were forbidden from serving him inside... it was as if some secret lay hidden within those walls.

I walked through the halls of the West Wing until the sign reading 'Dining Hall' came into view.

The area seemed eerily quiet. I approached the door and took a deep breath before knocking.
"You may come in, Alyssa," Grandfather's cold voice echoed from within. Grandfather Elias Dratican-Silverton, the man who should have rightfully been the Emperor of the Western Empire, for among all his siblings, he was deemed the most worthy of the throne.

I slowly pushed the door open and saw him seated at the long, imposing table... this was the first time I had ever truly seen him.

His eyes were a sharp, piercing gray, framed by white hair and fair skin. Even his skin bore the marks of time, with lines etched across his face.

"I offer my greetings, Grandfather, a pleasant noon to you," I said, bowing respectfully.

"Good noon to you as well. Come, join me for lunch," he replied, and I raised my head. "Very well, Grandfather," I responded, moving to take the seat beside him where a plate had been set.

My gaze drifted around the room, noting the conspicuous absence of Grandmother's portrait... had they had a disagreement?

"You must be wondering why I've invited you here today, Alyssa," he said suddenly, drawing my attention back to him.

"Indeed I am, Grandfather. Even Father is puzzled by it," I admitted as I picked at some vegetables on my plate.

It was obvious I was confused. Never in my sixteen years had Grandfather shown any particular interest in my existence.

"I see. Even Edward is curious as to why I would invite his young daughter to dine with me," he stated, a faint smile playing on his lips.

I raised a questioning eyebrow, observing Grandfather's expression... wait... did he actually have affection for Father?

"May I ask a question, Grandfather?" I inquired. "Of course," he replied, and I took a steadying breath.

"Do you know anything about the origin of my golden eyes within our family?" I asked him, causing his hand to freeze mid-motion.

"You're curious about that? Aren't you even curious about your own grandmother?" he countered, and I offered a small smile.

"I am curious about Grandmother as well, but nothing sparks my curiosity more than the origin of my golden eyes," I told him earnestly.

"I see. I don't know about its origin, but I do know someone else who shares that same eye color," he revealed, making my eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Who?"

"It's not yet the time for you to know. First, you must show me everything you've learned," he stated, leaving me blinking in confusion.

"I have to prove myself to you? What exactly am I supposed to show you?" I asked, and he offered a cryptic smile.

"It depends on the situation. And since my schedule is quite open at the moment, you will need to visit me at least twice a week. In that short time, you must prove yourself to me, whether through mental or physical skill. Anything is acceptable," he explained, and a soft laugh escaped my lips.

"And why should I do that?"

"Do you wish to know anything about your eyes?" he asked, his words causing my body to tense.

I did want to... because Alyssa was desperate for answers...

I could only offer a slow nod, seeing the subtle smirk that touched his lips. "Then, you must prove yourself to me, be it in mental acuity or physical prowess. Anything is fine," he reiterated, taking a sip from his drink.

"And could you perhaps give me an example of what I would need to do?"

"An example? How about a game of chess?" he suggested, eliciting another small laugh from me.

This old man had clearly been observing me and receiving remarkably accurate reports.

But why?

Why would he do this?