Fern had fantasized for a long time about having her own establishment, where she could experiment privately without having to adapt to her boss’s creative filters. She and Reed possessed culinary skills that had been appreciated by everyone who had tasted their food.
The ingredients sang under their hands. Spices that others used carelessly became symphonies of flavor when Fern touched them. Reed could turn the simplest vegetables into something that made people close their eyes and sigh with contentment.
Yet despite their talents, despite their new status as doubles with a well-known Tier 3 beast like the Longevity Turtle...
The stigma was difficult to overcome.
They had been seen as citizens of the lowest class for so long that the idea of presenting themselves as inner city entrepreneurs felt unnatural. Almost as if they were pretending to be someone they weren’t.
The weight of decades pressed down on them. Every interaction with customers had been filtered through the lens of their rank, their beasts, their address in the outskirts. Even now, the old reflexes remained.
Fern caught herself automatically stepping aside when ’well-dressed’ people approached. Reed still lowered his eyes when speaking to anyone who looked like they might have authority.
"Old habits," Reed had murmured the day before, after catching himself bowing too deeply to a merchant who was clearly his social inferior now. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢
But beneath these doubts, both parents felt extraordinarily proud of Ren.
They had been direct witnesses to the rewards the king had bestowed within the castle. The ceremony had been overwhelming in its grandeur, with hundreds of nobles and dignitaries.
The king’s voice had carried across the great hall, each word etching itself into their memories.
But even more impressive had been learning privately, from the king himself, that several of the distributed rewards had been decided by Ren personally. "For extraordinary service to the realm and wisdom beyond his years..."
Seeing their son standing before him, small but unshaken, had been surreal.
"I still can’t believe the king gave you that authority," Fern murmured, shaking her head in amazement.
The memory was still fresh, still impossible to fully process. Their boy, their little kid who used to struggle to reach the high shelves in their old kitchen, had been trusted with decisions that affected the lives of hundreds of thousands.
"And that you used it so easily," Reed added with evident paternal pride.
Even in private, the king had given additional rewards to Ren in front of his parents. The boy had specifically requested that it be done discretely, not wanting to pressure his parents into immediately integrating into the noble world.
They still remembered with complicated feelings the royal offer.
The King had offered them a place to live near the castle, in reserved properties where the most favored nobles resided.
They had refused.
The nervousness at the prospect of living near high-house nobles with their elaborate customs and social expectations was overwhelming. The thought of navigating dinner conversations about politics they didn’t understand made Fern’s chest tighten with anxiety.
"We’re not ready for that," Reed had admitted in that moment, his honesty thanking the king while making their discomfort clear.
His voice had been steady, but Fern had seen his hands trembling slightly. The same hands that could create culinary masterpieces without hesitation shook at the thought of holding a crystal wine glass among true nobility.
But Ren had handled the situation with diplomacy that had surprised everyone.
He had asked the king to give them time to adapt gradually. He had assured that he himself would obtain sufficient resources to eventually bring them to the appropriate level to receive such rewards, so they could feel proud of what they had rather than intimidated by it.
"I want that when we arrive there," Ren had explained to the king, his young voice carrying conviction, "it’s because we’ve grown toward that position, not because we were pushed by chance and luck toward it."
The king had smiled. Not the political smile of a monarch managing subjects, but the genuine appreciation of someone recognizing wisdom.
"Spoken like a true noble," Dragarion had said. "Not by birth, but by character."
Ren’s parents had received this response with extreme pride.
Seeing their son navigate politics with such consideration for their feelings had been both moving and impressive. He had shown maturity that few adults possessed, an understanding of their hearts that went beyond his years.
"That moment," Fern remembered, her voice soft with emotion, "when you told the king..."
"Made us cry," Reed admitted without any shame.
The memory was crystal clear. The way Ren had stood straighter, his voice firm but respectful. The way the king’s expression had shifted from formal courtesy to genuine respect.
But despite the pride and gratitude, they couldn’t help feeling pressured.
The speed of change in their lives was overwhelming.
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