Chapter 508: The Question of the Day

The private dining room on the second floor of the restaurant was quiet and comfortably. Outside the grand bay windows, a secluded courtyard garden bristled with greenery, blocking out the noisy bustle of the marketplace below.

A waiter set down a polished brass tray of roasted spiced lamb, warm crusty bread, and a carafe of sweet plum wine before bowing politely and pulling the heavy oak door shut behind him.

Derrick poured wine into both of their brass goblets, passing one across the dark oak table to Cherion. "To be completely honest with you, Cherion," Derrick began, leaning back against his cushioned seat and taking a small sip, "never in a million years did I think there would come a time when you and I would be hanging out like this, having a casual lunch in a restaurant."

Cherion took a sip of the warm wine, letting the rich, fruity flavor settle on his tongue before setting the goblet down on the wooden surface. "Honestly? I didn’t think so either."

Inside, Cherion added with a quiet, internal sigh, the OG Cherion wouldn’t have even breathed the same air as you without scoffing and turning his nose up.

"I was never good at socializing back then," Cherion continued smoothly, resting his elbows on the wooden table and lacing his fingers together in a relaxed posture. "I was arrogant, bitter, and closed off from everyone around me. But..." He paused, allowing a faint smile to spread across his face. "Well, I suppose finding true love really can change a person."

Derrick listened in growing astonishment, his goblet halfway to his lips as he stared at Cherion.

"Also thanks to that choking incident..." He paused, offering Derrick an apologetic, slightly sheepish smile. "Not that I’m glad you almost choked to death on that piece of dry thing, of course! But if there’s any silver lining to that terrible moment, it gave me me a new friend."

Derrick laughed softly, waving his hand in warm reassurance as he took another sip of wine. "Once again, thank you for saving my life that day. Most people would have just panicked, screamed, or waited for a physician to arrive, but you jumped right in without hesitation."

"Oh, come on, anyone would’ve tried to save you. Whether they’d resort to the same questionable methods is another matter entirely." Cherion chuckled, taking a piece of warm bread and breaking off a small corner.

"Still, I’m really happy to see you changing for the better," Derrick said gently, his expression softening into genuine warmth and respect. "The court used to talk about you with so much caution and hesitation, but seeing you now... you’re an entirely different person."

Cherion nodded, keeping his posture easy and approachable. "I’m not a religious man by any means, Derrick. But waking up after His Highness broke off our engagement... it felt like a cold bucket of water was poured directly over my head. It woke me up from a long, foolish nightmare that I had been trapped in for years."

"If you ask me," Derrick added, swirling the plum wine in his goblet thoughtfully, "you started changing the moment you got engaged to Duke Valtrane."

Cherion let out a light laugh, adjusting his sleeve cuffs with a faint smile playing on his lips. "Haha, right? It’s crazy how quickly a person can change when they finally find someone who actually values them. Finding one true love really puts everything else into perspective."

Derrick smiled warmly, raising his glass toward Cherion with a nod. "Amen to that! We shouldn’t waste our lives hanging onto people who treat us like dirt or ignore our existence. We deserve to be happy in our own way, surrounded by people who actually care about us."

"Amen to that," Cherion agreed heartily, clinking his glass against Derrick’s with a light metallic chime.

For a while, they ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the quiet, peaceful ambiance of the dining room. Derrick brought up light, easy topics, stories from his family’s horse breeding estates in the West, news about recent merchant supply routes, and minor court gossip regarding upcoming autumn festivals. Cherion listened intently, offering thoughtful nods and lighthearted comments, genuinely enjoying the rare feeling of a simple, pressure-free conversation.

As the waiter returned to clear away their empty plates and refresh their wine, Derrick set his linen napkin down, his lighthearted demeanor shifting into something noticeably quieter and more hesitant. He glanced cautiously toward the heavy wooden door, as if checking whether any staff or guards were listening outside, before leaning closer across the table.

"Cherion..." Derrick began in a low, measured voice. "How... how is Duke Valtran’es health these days?"

Cherion immediately altered his expression, allowing a soft, solemn shadow to cross his eyes. He lowered his gaze to the wooden table, letting out a quiet, heavy sigh. "It’s... well, it’s like that. Some days are good, and some days are difficult. His condition fluctuates quite a bit. But we have very capable physicians and skilled healers traveling with us, so we manage as best as we can."

Derrick remained silent for a long moment, tapping his thumbs against his brass cup. He looked visibly torn, his brow furrowed in deep, troubled hesitation.

"Is something wrong, Derrick?" Cherion asked softly, probing gently without pushing too hard. "You look concerned."

"I... I don’t know if I should really be saying this to you," Derrick whispered, his voice barely audible above the soft crackle of the stove. "It’s just a rumor I overheard a few weeks ago..."

Cherion leaned in slightly, keeping his expression calm and grounded despite his heart missing a beat inside his chest. "What kind of rumor?"

Derrick swallowed hard, leaning across the table until his face was only inches from Cherion’s.

"Do you really think the Duke’s condition is just an ordinary, natural illness?" Derrick murmured, his dark eyes locking onto Cherion’s with intense seriousness. "What if it isn’t a natural sickness at all?"

Cherion’s breath hitched slightly in his throat, though he kept his body completely still, refusing to show any outward panic. "What are you implying, Derrick?"

Derrick took a moment to collect himself before speaking in a hushed voice, his expression growing more serious by the second.

"What if it’s a curse?"

Cherion froze, staring into Derrick’s eyes as the word hung between them. A curse. He hadn’t heard that word associated with Zarius in quite some time.