After the session, Mero left the assignment room with a mixed feeling of accomplishment and reflection. He began to slowly walk the halls of the Imperial School of Mor, carefully examining each detail of the interior decorations. Each fresco, each crystal chandelier, each Persian rug seemed to tell a centuries-old story of an empire where art and tradition blend to build the grandeur of a world in perpetual evolution. In the hushed silence of these corridors, Mero let his mind wander, mentally noting the ornaments and sculptures that adorned the common spaces, testifying to the refinement and splendor characteristic of this institution.
Soon, his steps led him to the vast dining hall, intended for lunch. The room opened before him like a grand stage, bathed in a golden light filtered through large windows adorned with delicate stained glass. The walls, painted in warm and shimmering tones, completed the atmosphere of majesty and elegance. The tables, carefully arranged, were set with immaculate linen tablecloths and adorned with centerpieces of fresh flowers and finely carved candles. A soft murmur spread through the room: the discreet clinking of silver cutlery on fine porcelain, punctuated by hushed conversations, testified to a moment of tranquility and refinement.
A butler, whose impeccable appearance left no doubt about his experience, bowed slightly upon seeing Mero. With a measured gesture, he invited him to follow and led him to a table reserved especially for him. The table, placed in the center of the room, offered a clear view of the entire space and the large bay window that offered a panorama of the impeccably maintained school gardens. A menu on vellum, written in artistic calligraphy, lay before him. This carefully prepared document presented a selection of dishes ranging from traditional imperial delicacies to more exotic culinary creations, reflecting the diversity of the kingdoms that made up the Empire.
Without wasting a moment, Mero consulted the menu, then placed his order in a calm and composed voice, imbued with the royal confidence that now characterized him.
"I would like to start with a light aperitif: a finely seasoned olive tapenade, accompanied by a colorful cocktail of fresh fruit juices. For the starter, I desire a carefully prepared foie gras, followed by poached salmon with almonds, complemented by perfectly golden potato duchesses. For the cheese platter, a varied assortment would suit me, and to conclude this meal, an intense coffee served with delicate petit fours."
The server, who had observed the order with respectful attention, carefully took note before discreetly retreating towards the kitchen. As Mero waited, the subtle aroma of fresh herbs and delicate spices filled the air, bringing with it the promise of a sensory feast.
Shortly after, a tray of aperitifs was presented on the table. The tapenade, served with thin slices of toasted bread, paired perfectly with the fruit juice cocktail, whose shimmering hues reflected the vitality and freshness of the imperial orchards. Each bite offered a subtle balance between the richness of the olive and the natural sweetness of the fruits.
The meal then unfolded in harmonious succession. The foie gras, with a melting texture and delicate flavor, was served with lightly toasted country bread, enhanced by a touch of acidity from savory chutneys. Then, the poached salmon with almonds appeared, each slice dissolving in the mouth with exquisite lightness, while the potato duchesses, crispy on the outside and melting on the inside, offered a perfectly mastered contrast of textures. The cheese assortment, a true ode to the diversity of the Empire's terroirs, presented creamy, aged cheeses accompanied by fresh fruits and nuts, awakening the palate with a nuanced richness of flavors.
To conclude this sumptuous meal, an aromatic coffee was served, accompanied by light petit fours whose discreet sweetness balanced the characteristic bitterness of the drink. In this symphony of flavors and textures, Mero felt a complete satisfaction invade his senses. Each dish, each ingredient seemed to have been thought out to exalt the gustatory experience and recall the culinary excellence characteristic of the Empire.
However, amidst this gastronomic fairy tale, a thought crossed his mind. As he mentally savored the delights offered to him, he thought that his housekeeper, Leila, who had always watched over him with unwavering tenderness, should be informed without delay of his dietary regimen. He feared that, in the absence of rigorous monitoring, the temptation of sumptuous dishes might lead him to gain weight, thus compromising his physical condition essential to his training and intensive studies. Mero promised himself to discuss this concern with Leila as soon as the opportunity arose, to ensure that his nutritional needs would be respected with the rigor required by his status.
Taking advantage of a moment of respite, Mero glanced around him. His eyes fell on the other diners. Among them, he distinguished the proudly displayed coat of arms of the Fine family, an ancient house whose history had been marked by conflicts and fragile alliances. These coat of arms, meticulously carved on embroidered shields, reminded him of the persistent rivalries within the Empire. A group of young girls, seated not far from him, caught his attention. Their elegant attire, impeccable posture, and discreet conversation hinted at their belonging to influential families. Yet, they seemed deliberately to turn their backs on Mero, creating a barrier of intimacy that he hesitated to cross. Curiosity and apprehension mingled in his gaze. He wondered what kinds of alliances or rivalries could arise from these first contacts in this microcosm of elites, where each encounter could transform the course of destinies.
As he pondered these reflections, a servant signaled to Mero to rise. The latter straightened up with dignity and, after a brief moment of hesitation, stood up to follow the servant who, with a precise gesture, led him away from the great hall. The servant's face, with an impassive and professional expression, betrayed no emotion, but his gaze suggested that he was the bearer of an important message.
"His Excellency, the School Secretary, wishes to see you as soon as your meal is over," he announced in a neutral voice before disappearing as discreetly as he had come.
Mero nodded thoughtfully as he finished his coffee with a touch of curiosity. Why this sudden summons? Did it concern an adjustment to his schedule, or was it a new directive from the higher spheres of the institution? Without delay, he returned to his table, resuming the normal course of his meal, while keeping in mind the shadow of this question.
When the meal was over, Mero discreetly withdrew from the dining hall. The splendor and effervescence of the moment gave way to more personal reflection. He then returned to his apartment, located on an upper floor of the building, where the luxurious and intimate atmosphere contrasted with the bustle of the common spaces. In the relative calm of his room, he took a few moments to relax and let his thoughts wander, thinking back to all the instructions and information that had just been communicated to him.
Shortly after, a light knock at the door caught his attention. When he opened it, the Secretary of the Imperial School of Mor entered with the same impeccable bearing she had displayed earlier. Carrying a carefully arranged file in her arms, she bowed her head in a respectful greeting and took a seat opposite him in the lounge, whose refined decoration and antique furniture created an atmosphere conducive to official exchanges.
"Thank you for receiving me so promptly," she said in a calm and assured voice, before opening her file and fixing Mero with her piercing eyes. "I have several points to discuss regarding your integration and some adjustments to your program." Her voice, measured and imbued with a certain gravitas, echoed the high expectations of the institution.
She began by explaining that the Emperor himself had expressly requested to be informed of Mero's progress. "This does not mean constant surveillance," she clarified, "but a requirement that your training be exemplary in every respect." She let a moment of silence pass, allowing Mero to absorb this new responsibility that had just been added to his already considerable burden.
Next, she addressed the issue of the specialized courses Mero had expressed a desire for. "We have taken into account your requests for weapons, dance, and navigation courses. I would like to present you with the first proposals we have received for your instructors." She handed Mero a sheet detailing several names, along with their respective qualifications and experience.
"Do you have any additional requirements, or would you like me to proceed with the first meetings with these instructors?" she asked in a neutral but assured tone.
Mero, after a brief reflection, replied in a firm voice: "You may proceed." A slight smile appeared on the secretary's face, indicating her satisfaction with the young heir's decision.
Continuing her presentation, she addressed the subject of the gift intended for his housekeeper, Leila, who was soon to be married. "Regarding this present," she explained, "we have already begun steps to select reliable providers who will take care of organizing this gift. You will soon receive a selection of options, allowing you to make your choice with full knowledge of the facts."
She then concluded her intervention by reminding Mero that all his requests had been carefully considered and that his schedule would be adjusted to meet his expectations. "You will receive your first version by tomorrow morning," she assured him. Before closing the meeting, she asked him if he had any other concerns or additional requests.
Mero, reflecting for a moment, declared with calm firmness: "No, I wish to meet my peers." The secretary nodded slightly and replied:
"You will certainly find students in the dormitory lounge, in the game room, or in the library or training room. The dining hall, during meal times, also remains a place conducive to meetings. If you wish, I can organize a more official presentation so that you can get to know the other notable students."
Mero, without hesitation, replied that it would be fine.
Then, concerned about organizing all aspects of his new life as best as possible, he addressed a more personal question regarding his clothes. "And what about my tailor?" he asked.
The secretary replied immediately:
"The house of Dargent & Fils, the official tailor of the Academy, has been informed of your request. A master tailor will come to take your measurements tomorrow morning at your convenience. He will offer you imperial models adapted to your rank while taking into account your personal preferences and the refined style characteristic of your kingdom."
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She then handed him a business card from the house, illustrating their specialties ranging from uniforms to ceremonial attire and custom-made clothing.
"Very well, you may go," said Mero in an affirmative voice. The secretary bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment, gathered her documents, and left the room with imperial efficiency, leaving Mero alone in the silence of his apartment.
This moment of solitude allowed him to take a breath, gather his thoughts, and prepare for the next step of his day. He thought it would be wise to go meet his peers, as he had envisioned earlier. Before definitively leaving his apartment to explore the common spaces of the School, Mero quickly changed, adjusting his attire with care to reflect his rank and preserve the image of dignity dear to him.
Thus, after having carefully reviewed in his mind each detail of this morning rich in exchanges and decisions, Mero resolutely headed towards the game room. It was time to weave the first bonds in this universe where the elite is forged and defined by the ebb and flow of encounters and nascent alliances.
After trading his formal clothes for a more casual outfit—still imbued with elegance, befitting a noble in search of relaxation—Mero left his apartment with measured assurance. He knew full well that the atmosphere of the game room demanded a style both refined and relaxed, where exchanges took place as much on the card tables as in worldly discussions. His clothes, carefully chosen, betrayed the subtle union of his rank and his desire to blend into the decor while maintaining his sovereign bearing.
Descending the wide staircase leading to the ground floor, a slight excitement ran through Mero. This was his first opportunity to observe, in a less formal setting, how the other notable students behaved when they were not subject to the morning's protocol rigors. The moment of passage between the hushed spaces of the apartment and the discreet effervescence of the common areas seemed to him a rite of passage, a necessary transition to fully grasp the subtleties of this new environment.
Pushing open the door to the game room, Mero was struck by the hushed atmosphere of the place. Murmurs, the clinking of tokens on polished wood, and the rustling of cards composed a discreet symphony. Under the intrigued or reserved gazes of the players, he took in the room, applying the teachings of Master Antonin: observe without staring, capture the details while remaining in the background. He adopted the attitude of a curious but relaxed noble, masking his intentions behind an apparent nonchalance.
At a table, three men played with methodical intensity. A teenager, bearing the insignia of the Fine family, smiled with deceptive politeness, his piercing gaze betraying a sharp vigilance. His companions, one relaxed, the other rigid, exchanged barely audible murmurs. Mero analyzed their expressions and gestures, recalling the lessons on deciphering attitudes. The teenager, confident but calculating, inspired a mixture of mistrust and respect.
Approaching without disturbing the table's equilibrium, Mero was addressed by the teenager, whose agile fingers shuffled the cards with revealing dexterity. "A spectator or a player?" he challenged. Mero introduced himself, "I am Mero of the Kingdom of Sel, son of King Heckt the Sublime."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mero of the Kingdom of Sel. I am Dorian, of the Kingdom of Fine," he said. Then he explained the rules of their variant, emphasizing the importance of mastering them. "Are you here to win or to learn?" he asked, scrutinizing Mero. The latter opted for observation, studying the interactions, the eloquent silences, and the veiled strategies.
Feigning clumsiness in his first interventions, Mero let his opponents underestimate his game. Dorian, deceived by this facade, relaxed his vigilance. Each misstep by Mero was, in reality, a maneuver to uncover their weaknesses: Dorian's hesitation before a decisive card, a player's labored breathing in difficulty, another's smirk risking a daring bet. These clues, patiently compiled, forged his counter-strategy.
At the crucial moment, Mero played an innocuous card, sowing doubt in Dorian. With an enigmatic smile, he followed up with subtle moves that unbalanced the game. After a calculated defeat to lull their suspicions, he won the final victory in a spectacular reversal, leaving his opponents stunned. Their congratulations, tinged with respect, consecrated his transformation from the "clumsy novice" to an unpredictable strategist.
Leaving the table, Mero savored the renewed dynamic of the room: fragile alliances, silent rivalries, and challenging gazes. Each detail fueled his reflection, shedding light on the power dynamics of the Imperial School.
Mero approached the young man seated at the bar with a determined air. "I am Mero, of the Kingdom of Sel. May I join you?"
The young man, initially surprised by this unexpected approach, looked up at him for a moment. After a brief hesitation, his expression softened, and he replied in a calm voice:
"Of course, have a seat. It is an honor to have you among us."
Clearing a space next to him, the young man invited Mero to sit down. Despite the mistrust that could be read in his features, the welcome was courteous and reserved. As Mero took his seat, the young man seemed to wait for him to initiate the conversation.
After a short silence, Mero scrutinized his interlocutor, noting his features and the quiet confidence that emanated from him. In a calm and composed voice, Mero said:
"You are not from the region, are you? I would even dare to say that you are not from the continent. Might you, by any chance, be from the Kingdom of Iron?"
The interlocutor seemed visibly surprised by this incisive remark, but his expression quickly brightened. A discreet smile appeared on his lips as he replied:
"You have a keen eye, indeed. I am from the Kingdom of Iron. This kingdom, though a small corner compared to the immensity of the Empire, holds unsuspected treasures and nourishes the spirit of adventurers."
He took a sip from his glass, letting his eyes meet Mero's, curious to learn more. Then he asked with a tone both interrogative and warm:
"And you, you are from here, aren't you?"
Without waiting for an immediate response, Mero declared in a calm voice:
"I am from the Kingdom of Sel, lands bathed by the Sea of the Two Twins in the Green Ocean."
The young man seemed to catch himself, a slight blush of embarrassment briefly coloring his face, before his gaze became sharp with interest again. "I apologize," he said, "I did not pay attention to your introduction. The Kingdom of Sel... That is fascinating. You must have a deep knowledge of the sea."
He paused, then added with a touch of mischief:
"The Sea of the Two Twins... It is, how shall I say, a place steeped in legends. I have heard many stories about your voyages and the art of navigating these waters, both splendid and feared."
Mero smiled knowingly and, in the same breath, replied:
"Our maritime lands hold secrets that none can match. We share a nearly mystical relationship with the ocean, a symbiosis that shapes our lives. We say the same of your kingdom."
He, visibly flattered by the remark, added in a more relaxed voice:
"The Kingdom of Iron is a place where courage blends with natural wonders. Navigation there is second nature. Yet, I must admit that your maritime lands, in the Kingdom of Sel, seem to exude a particular magic."
The exchanges then took a more personal turn. The young man, displaying sincere curiosity, declared:
"If you don't mind, I would like to know more about your voyages. What is it like to navigate those legendary waters?"
Mero, whose eyes lit up at the mention of his adventures, launched into a passionate account. He spoke of a skilled sailor who had accompanied Captain Kod, whose feat—completing a round-the-world voyage without stopping—had become a true legend in his kingdom. "Captain Kod was not the first to attempt such a journey," he explained, "but he was the first to succeed. Together, they faced fearsome storms, unknown seas, and returned with maps and legends that still nourish the spirit of adventurers today."
The assembly, composed of the convives present around the bar, listened attentively. The discussions had fallen silent, the glasses had been set down, and each of Mero's words resonated like an echo from another world, that of legends and daring voyages. The young man from the Kingdom of Iron, visibly moved, took the floor:
"It is incredible... a true lesson in courage and determination. Our sailors from Iron have their own stories, of course, but yours seem to reach unmatched heights."
Another convive, drawn by the discussion, intervened with palpable interest:
"And these maps you mention, are they treasures that reveal unknown territories?"
Mero explained with pride that, in his kingdom, maps were considered precious heritage, witnesses to explorations. "The maps are our property as we joined the empire of our own will, few things were imposed on us. The only things we must submit to are paying taxes to the empire, sending every second-born of each noble family to this school, and using the empire's language for extraterritorial correspondence. We have a certain autonomy for diplomatic decisions with our neighboring lands as long as it benefits the empire."
Mero's words had captured everyone's attention, and soon the conversation turned to the relationships between their kingdom and the Empire. A young man, whose gaze expressed both admiration and curiosity, asked:
"So, you are not constrained by the Empire to follow decisions that would harm your interests?"
Mero nodded, clearly explaining the situation of his people. "Indeed," he said, "we enjoy partial autonomy. We maintain diplomatic relations with our neighbors, respecting our traditions, but we are not subject to total domination."
Another interlocutor, intrigued by the use of language, inquired:
"And you, do you speak the imperial language fluently? Your ease is remarkable."
Mero replied in a calm voice, recalling the richness of his journey:
"I learned the imperial language during my long journey here. Little by little, I integrated the subtleties of its expressions while preserving the pride and authenticity of my own heritage."
As the conversation deepened, each of the convives shared anecdotes about their region, their customs, and the particularities of their traditions. A young man with dark hair, from a neighboring land, became animated as he recounted:
"In our country, respect for the elders is sacred. Each year, we organize great festivals to honor our ancestors, and our rituals, accompanied by enchanting music, instill our culture with unmatched vitality."
A teenager from the Kingdom of Fine then intervened:
"In our land, we have traditions linked to dance. Each movement is filled with meaning, and during our balls, the quality of the dance is said to bring good luck for the coming year."
The exchanges became increasingly animated, with each person proudly and passionately sharing the specificities of their heritage. Another student, his voice filled with deep respect for the sea, declared:
"In our land, the sea governs all. Our lives, our rhythms, are dictated by the tides and the waves. The sea is our companion, our guide, and it influences every decision we make."
The discussion turned into a true sharing of stories and visions, where each person described their lands of origin with a mix of nostalgia and pride. Mero, at the heart of this cultural effervescence, felt invested with a particular role. He was not only the spokesperson for his own kingdom but also a bridge between the different traditions. He explained, with a smile, that in the Kingdom of Sel, the islands were as diverse as they were united, and that each had its own customs, but all came together under a common banner. He mentioned, with a tone of humor and assurance, that his boats were renowned for their speed, even rivaling the famous sloops of the legendary Viking barbarians.
The young man from Iron, visibly impressed, exclaimed:
"Really? You claim that your vessels rival the Viks?"
His eyes lit up, and he paused to think before continuing:
"The traditions of your kingdom must be as varied as the peoples who live there. But tell me, how do you manage to reconcile this diversity with a unity that is uniquely yours?"
Mero replied with quiet assurance:
"Each island in our kingdom has its own traditions, but we all share a common vision: that of freedom and harmony with the sea. We have, over generations, created a balance between the independence of each community and the unity of the whole, a balance that is our strength."
Evening arrives, and dinner time approaches. They all stand up to head towards the dining hall, where they take their seats around the table, ready to continue their earlier conversation. The group of girls who had turned their backs on Mero at noon continue to do so.
