The World Dragon's Heir

Chapter 652: Work Off The Weight

"Nice, stew for dinner." Prince Damien cheered as the first course came out with a thick curried vegetable soup and bread rolls.

"No, every dinner starts with soup here. I think it is a side effect of having too many Trolls.

It’s good though. Just don’t fill yourself too much or you’ll be struggling by the time that the final course comes out." Claudius warned.

As expected, the stew was just the starter, and Beth had made them schnitzel with mushroom gravy for the main course, followed by a fruit plate, and then a collection of bite sized danishes.

"See what I mean. That Chef is a tragic loss for the Royal Palace." Claudius complained.

"What was her position in the Royal Palace?" Prince Damien asked, only having heard a partially detailed rumour.

"She was the Head Chef for the Royal Children’s wing. All of our childhood snacks and evening meals, other than the formal ones with the whole family, came from her kitchen. I suppose that you could say that her cooking is something of a nostalgia issue for us.

Her replacement is an incredible chef, trained on the same menu, but somehow it’s still not the same." Claudius explained.

"Ah, now that is something that I understand.

Our head chef retired just before I went off to the Military Academy, so when I got back three years later, all of the food had changed. It was a tragic moment for me."

While the two of them bantered about the food of their childhood, Dominic and Jack had surrounded Sir Charles to try to convince him to stay on after the event.

"As you have likely guessed, we have an employment offer for you.

I had Jack draw up the details, but I will explain it to you simply. You are excellent at what you do, both on and off the arena floor. We need someone who knows how to work a crowd, and what sort of events will draw one.

The position will rank as an official Advisor to the Duchy, which would also be to the Governor’s Office for the Province, so there is some prestige to it, if that matters to you.

But I suspect that the fact the pay is good and the job is secure might matter more." Dominic began.

Charles nodded. "As much as I hate to admit it, even with magical healing, it’s not as easy to get back up after a hard hit these days, and the mornings seem to get earlier every season.

If you’ve got a legitimate offer that wouldn’t take me too far from the Arena, I am willing to consider it."

Jack laughed at the phrasing. "Well, if that’s the concern, we can put your office in one of the floor level box seats."

Though they were jealous of the other Knight’s good fortune, the rest of the men at that end of the table laughed at Jack’s enthusiasm. Knowing him, he really would fit a desk into the box seat, so that Sir Charles could keep working while the show was on.

There was an office at the arena, though.

It was intended more for the manager, the one in charge of the tickets and the vendor contracts. But if he wanted it, he could use it. The whole place would be under his management anyhow.

Sir Charles shook his head. "No, a place in town would be fine. Or I suppose an office in the Manor might be appropriate, as it’s supposed to be an official advisory position."

Jack handed over the employment contract as they sipped wine, and Charles tucked it into his storage space.

"I will go over it tonight. I wouldn’t want to get anything spilled on it. I know how much old soldiers hate writing reports."

Jack chuckled, but refrained from pointing out that Charles wasn’t far from being considered an old soldier himself. Anyone who had reached the age of forty was already old by the standards of a field soldier. Old enough to be considered one of the veteran Commanders at the very least, and most likely relegated to the training grounds, unless they were a Knight.

Knights and Mercenaries were the only ones who devoted their entire lives to combat, after all. Knights, for the glory and defence of the nation, Mercenaries because few ever lived long enough to afford to do anything else with their lives.

"Alright, the business part is behind us, now, I think that a bit of music and some dancing might be just what we need to burn off energy before bed." Dominic suggested.

"I’m afraid that we didn’t bring any ladies to dance with." Sir Korath reminded him.

"That’s alright, we have the maids. They are excellent dancers, and only likely to stab someone if hands wander a little too far." Dominic suggested.

The Knights laughed. "Or, we could go spar in the yard. A bit of blade work practice would do just as well with less chance of actually getting stabbed."

It would also give them a chance to compete off the field, even if it was with wooden swords.

The Royal Guards cheered for the suggestion. They were always short on new sparring partners, and there were members of the Mitfield Royal Paladins among the Knights. This was a perfect chance to have a friendly spar.

Prince Russel sighed. "Somehow, I should have known that it would come down to combat."

Jack patted him on the shoulder. "You should have expected that from the start. It’s just how things are. Even Jenna is quick with a sword, and she’s our Accountant."

"I wouldn’t be as quick with a sword if you knew to keep your hands to yourself." The slightly less aged woman reminded him.

"Details, details. What I meant was that there aren’t many around these parts who don’t know how to handle a blade."

Jenna nodded. "And that is unlikely to change in the next generation. Most of the farmers are still teaching their boys to use spears and swords if they can afford them, and with the ladies in the Adventurer’s Guild, the girls may be dreaming of hunting for monsters as well."

Jack chuckled at the thought. "I eagerly await the first irate father showing up at the gates demanding that we do something about his daughter running off to the Guild."