By the time we were halfway through our plates, most of the initial awkwardness had faded. People started chatting, comparing flavors, arguing quietly about whether the fruit was actually a lychee or just a lychee look-alike. Even the guards relaxed a bit, though they still stood like statues.

  When we finally finished eating, Princess Charlotte drifted toward our group with a kind of careful enthusiasm—like she wanted to join in but wasn’t sure how to do it without breaking some royal protocol.

  “May I sit with you?” she asked, voice soft but hopeful.

  “Uh, yeah—of course,” Wills said, scooting over a little.

  She smiled, relieved, and sat down across from us. Up close, she seemed more like a curious kid than the practiced little noblewoman she’d been earlier.

  “You all seem to be adjusting well,” she said, folding her hands neatly on the table. “Father was worried the morning would be overwhelming.”

  “We’re doing okay,” I replied. “The food helped.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Lady Wills’s mother is truly remarkable. I have never tasted that style of dish before.”

  Wills chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Mom tends to, uh… take charge of kitchens.”

  “I hope she continues to visit ours,” Charlotte said, sounding genuinely pleased.

  While we were chatting with her, I glanced toward the girls’ table. Alistair was still practically glued to Reika’s side, leaning on one hand, talking to her nonstop. Reika’s smile still looked polite, but stiff—as if she didn’t know whether to laugh, run, or throw a plate at him.

  Charlotte noticed my glance and sighed quietly. “My older brother is… very determined when he finds something interesting.” Her tone was gentle, but the tiny wince said she’d had experience dealing with that “determination” herself.

  “Yes, princess, we can see that,” Trayn muttered, and we all tried not to stare too obviously.

  Compared to him, the princess was practically a breeze—friendly, attentive, and far easier to talk to. She asked small things, like what food we liked back home, whether our world also had potatoes, and if our clothes were standard attire where we came from.

  It wasn’t an interrogation, it was just simple curiosity. The kind of questions a kid might ask when meeting someone new… especially if those “someones” happened to be summoned heroes.

  Honestly, it made the whole morning feel a bit less foreign, maybe even a bit normal.

  As we chatted, Princess Charlotte’s attention drifted toward Taka and Shun, who were off to the side poking at the bowl of oversized lychees with the same intensity as two scientists discovering a new species.

  “I swear this is just a giant lychee,” Taka said, peeling one carefully. “Look—same texture, same scent.”

  “No, no, Taka, look at the skin,” Shun argued. “It’s thicker, and the bumps are… sharper? Maybe it’s like a lychee’s buff cousin.”

  Charlotte tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “Excuse me,” she called gently, “may I ask what you are discussing?”

  Taka pushed his glasses to his nose and held up one of the fruits like he was presenting evidence in a trial. “These, princess, they’re like lychees, but huge.”

  “Li-chee?” Charlotte repeated slowly, trying the foreign word. “Is that what they are called in your world?”

  Taka nodded. “Yes princess.”

  “Oh,” she said with an understanding nod. “Here, we call them dragon fruits.”

  Shun blinked. “Dragon… fruit? But they’re not red on the outside. And they don’t look like—”

  Charlotte giggled—a small, polite laugh she tried to hide behind her hand. “Not that kind of dragon fruit. This one is named so because the peel has scales like a dragon.” She reached toward the bowl to point. “These on the table have already had the sharper scales removed. Fresh ones are… well, sharp.”

  Taka froze. “Wait, sharp scales?”

  “Yes,” she answered cheerfully, completely unfazed. “They can scratch you if you’re not careful, but once peeled, they are quite sweet.”

  Me and Trayn exchanged a glance, both of us grinning. It was surprisingly easy to talk to her—she had the kind of calm curiosity that made even weird conversations feel normal.

  The princess leaned a little closer to the two boys, eyes bright with interest. “Do your ly-chees also grow on trees like ours? Or are they more like vines?”

  Taka opened his mouth, but Shun cut in, already in full lecture mode. “They grow in clusters, kind of like grapes but on trees—”

  And just like that, Charlotte was fully absorbed in their explanation, asking questions, comparing details, and nodding seriously as if fruit taxonomy was a matter of state importance.

  Charlotte reached for one of the dragon fruits and lifted it with both hands, which was almost comical considering how large they were compared to her slender fingers.

  “They are usually eaten fresh,” she explained. “If you slice them open, the flesh is sweet and crisp. Like this—”

  She picked up a small table knife, placed the fruit on a plate, and… tried her best.

  The knife barely sank in.

  She pressed a little harder. The blade slipped sideways with a soft skkkrrrt, leaving only a shallow scratch on the peel.

  Charlotte paused, cheeks turning faintly pink. “Ah… it appears this one is rather firm…”

  Wills, was beside her, leaned over. “May I?” he asked.

  Her posture straightened instantly, a mix of relief and embarrassment. “If you would, thank you. Just a simple cut down the middle.”

  Wills took the fruit and held it steady with one hand, then pressed down with the knife—fwup. The fruit parted cleanly like it was made of butter. Even Wills was surprised by how easily he had cut it.

  “There we go,” he said as he slowly flexed his hand.

  Inside, the fruit was pale-white with faint pink streaks running through it. The princess however, looked visibly grateful. “Thank you. They can be… stubborn. Especially when picked early.”

  Shun leaned in, even Yuu and Hanzo stood up to get a better look. “It really looks like an apple.”

  Taka was already grabbing a slice. “Let’s find out.”

  We each got a knife and cut a piece. Biting into it, it was crisp, sweet and light. Almost exactly like apple slices—if apples were juicier and had a faint floral scent.

  “Oh wow,” I said. “This is—yeah. Apple.”

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  “Apple with roses?” Trayn tried with most of us agreeing.

  Charlotte brightened. “I am glad you like it. Most people enjoy them once they overcome the peel. But apple is also another fruit?”

  Wills wiped his fingers on a white cloth, then suddenly thought of something. “Oh, right, Princess, it’s easier to show you.”

  He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

  Charlotte leaned slightly closer, curiosity shining in her eyes as he tapped the screen. “It’s something like this,” Wills said, turning the phone so she could see a picture of a bright red apple he had saved from some old group chat meme.

  Charlotte blinked. Then blinked again.

  “That is… remarkably lifelike,” she said, sounding both impressed and a little bewildered. “And this device—it holds portraits?”

  “Yes,” Wills replied slowly, looking unsure. “We, in our world call them photos. We also have moving images and we call those videos. There is also recordings of music… pretty much anything, really.”

  That caught her. She straightened, eyes widening with the kind of fascination we’d only seen from mages so far.

  “Anything?” she repeated, voice hushed with awe.

  “Well, yes” I cut in quickly, “But, we, uh… kinda have a problem.”

  Taka sighed as he leaned closer to look at the screen, like he was mourning something precious. “We don’t have the chargers with us. Or even if we did, this world don’t have electricity.”

  Charlotte tilted her head. “Chargers? Electricity?”

  “Chargers are the, devices, that is used to give it that power,” Trayn explained, considering over his words. “Without that, the phone, will run out of energy. Electricity is the energy that is needed for the phone to operate.”

  “Think lightning, but more, controlled” Shun added.

  “Oh…” Charlotte said softly. The disappointment on her face was almost… adorable. “So, it will cease to function?”

  “In a few days, yes,” Wills admitted.

  She looked at the phone again, as if trying to memorize it. “It is like a tiny magic mirror,” she murmured. “But without magic?”

  “Exactly,” I said, smiling. “All technology. No spells. We all have one. Such things are common in our world.”

  Charlotte nodded thoughtfully, finger hovering close to the screen but not touching. “And these… apples,” she said, returning to the topic with the seriousness of someone taking diplomatic notes, “taste like our dragon fruit?”

  “Basically,” Trayn confirmed. “These ones are just—bigger. And more armored.”

  That earned a small laugh from her. Across the hall, her brother was still glued to Reika, chatting away as if he had no concept of personal space—or royal dignity.

  Charlotte, thankfully, was nothing like him. She stayed focused, polite, and genuinely curious.

  And as she studied the glowing apple on the phone’s screen, I couldn’t tell if she was more fascinated by the fruit… or by the piece of dying tech we still clung to like a lifeline to home.

  Home. Now that I think about it, it’s a bit sad. Although I am somewhat excited about this hero stuff, our disappearance will likely cause mom problems. Although currently she was in the States, we do chat nearly every weekends. Fuck, I’m getting homesick just thinking about it. But I really wish we could do something about our phones.

  Once Charlotte had finished inspecting the apple picture on Wills’s phone—like it was some kind of sacred artifact—it felt natural to shift the conversation toward her instead. After all, she had asked us plenty. Fair was fair.

  “So, uhm, Princess,” Trayn began, picking at the last of his eggs, “can we ask a few questions too?”

  She brightened immediately, hands folded neatly on her lap and sat straighter. “Of course. I will answer what I can to the best of my abilities.”

  “Alright,” I said, leaning an elbow on the table. “First question—your names.”

  Charlotte blinked. “Our… names?”

  “Yeah,” I continued. “Last night your father introduced himself as, well—just himself. No ‘house of,’. But you gave a name and titles with ‘house of,’. And your brother did the same earlier. Is that… a thing? Or did we misunderstand something?”

  She nodded softly, almost relieved it was a simple question. “In our world, names carry structure and rank,” she explained. “Those with complete names are of the main branch of a noble house. That includes the ruling lord and lady as well as the heir apparent.”

  “Those who are not of the main branch, but still family, are members of the house. Still noble, still respected… but not part of the ruling line.” Charlotte confirmed. “And it is common for people to say the main title of the person first, next give the name, then the minor titles, and followed by the other necessary parts. Which includes stating whether or not they are part of the ruling or not. Hence the need to put ‘house of’ when someone introduces themselves.”

  “Is the practice the same for all?” I asked. “Even for non-nobility?

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Huh, it’s surprisingly convoluted,” Trayn said wryly and the princess agreed with a rather enthusiastic nod.

  “So, for yourself,” Taka said slowly, “and your brother, why don’t either have the full name? Do you have an older sibling who is heir?”

  “Oh, no” the princess shook her head slowly with a smile. “Elder brother is the oldest of us siblings. Our youngest sibling went with mother on her trip.”

  “Then, the king had not decided on an heir yet?” Wills asked, but he thought of something and quickly added, “or are women not allowed to inherit?”

  “In our world, women are allowed to inherit,” the princess answered. “It’s been that way for over five hundred years. My brother and I are simply underage. The heir is announced when they turn of age, sixteen in our country. And since my brother is older, he is the heir apparent.”

  “So, uh, that guy is the future king?” Trayn whispered under his breath.

  We all glanced toward the girls’ table. The prince was still leaning far too close to Reika—practically breathing her air—talking with unshakable confidence while Reika maintained a smile that was starting to look more like a silent cry for help. Shizuku beside her was—wait, was she enjoying herself?

  Charlotte followed our gaze, and she smiled a little, like she found an amusing memory then sighed very quietly. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

  Her face tightened just a little, as if she wasn’t supposed to say that last part, but couldn’t stop it from slipping out.

  Shun, who had been quiet for a while, spoke up. “Then what about Lady Celestia? How does it work for her?”

  Charlotte had a wry smile on her face.

  “Well, my cousins’ circumstances,” she said carefully, “are a bit… complex.”

  What she said caught us completely off guard.

  “Cousin?” we all asked at the same time.

  Charlotte opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, the doors to the hall opened.

  Celestia stepped inside, flanked by two maids who were clearly doing their best to support her. The dark bags under her eyes from last night were gone, but that didn’t mean she looked better. If anything, she looked worse.

  A cloth was wrapped around the lower half of her face, covering her nose and mouth. Her skin was pale—almost too pale—and her frame looked thinner somehow, more fragile. She leaned heavily on what looked like a coat stand being used as a makeshift cane.

  She was dressed in loose, dark blue robes, tied together by a thick belt at the waist. The fabric hung off her in a way that made it clear they weren’t meant for travel—or standing for long. Charlotte stood immediately, concern written all over her face. “Celes!”

  Celestia lifted a hand slightly, as if to say she was fine, though the way she swayed said otherwise. The two maids caught her in their grip, steadying her as she took another slow step forward.

  Hushed murmurs rippled through the girls’ side of the table as Princess Charlotte moved quickly to assist Celestia. She reached for her arm, careful and steady, guiding her forward as the maids hovered close by, ready to catch her if she fell.

  The king stood as well. His chair scraped softly against the floor, and irritation flickered plainly across his face, it was a combination of worry and concern but was sharpened by authority.

  Celestia continued on regardless. When she was close to our table, her gaze swept across us who were sitting there, as if she were looking for someone.

  Then her eyes settled on Wills.

  “Good morning, Lord Wills,” she said, her voice muffled slightly by the cloth over her face, yet we all could hear the soreness on her throat. “Where is your brother?”

  The question confused all of us there. But, before anyone could answer, the king stepped forward, his tone tight, strained in a way that made it clear he was holding back far more than he was saying.

  “My dearest niece,” he said, “why must you interpret my command as a challenge rather than an order? Especially when obedience was implied?”

  The fact that the king addressed her as niece meant that he was concerned about her, but the hall went silent. The maids froze, unsure whether to assist or step back. Celestia finally shifted her gaze from Wills back to the king.

  “I am sorry, Majesty, but you did not give me a timeframe,” she said evenly, though the effort it took to sound calm was obvious. “If I am to inform Lord Vi that I have been assigned as his minder, then I see no reason not to do so while I eat breakfast.”

  A ripple of unease passed through the room. The king’s jaw tightened, then an irritated smile, spread across his face. He crossed his arms, but before he could respond—

  The chair at the other table screeched loudly across the floor.

  Reika shot up to her feet so fast she knocked into the prince beside him, sending him tipping backward and his chair clattered as he fell.

  Reika didn’t even notice.

  “What!? His minder!?” she blurted out, eyes wide as she looked between Celestia, and the king.

  Celestia turned toward her, blinking. “Yes, Lady Reika,” she replied simply. “I was assigned by his majesty.”

  The king let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple. “Since Celestia was responsible for the summoning,” he said, voice tired, “it was only natural that she be assigned as his minder and primary support.”

  Reika stared, trying to process that, or considering her, she was already trying to find a plan to, at the very least, overturn that decision. She’s just too crazy about Vi to even care about the prince she knocked over.

  Alistair was still on the floor behind her, one of the guards ran forward and helped him back into his feet. From the look on his face, his dignity was more bruised than anything else.

  Then she spun on her heels and ran forward, knocking the prince over a second time. She ran towards kings table, then turned to the right, ignoring everyone else who was staring at her.

  My eyes met Wills and we came to an understanding.

  Yep. Vi will love this.