After building the teleporter in the basement, Astaroth and Phoenix decided their day had been long enough. They still hadn't eaten actual food, and their stomachs were rumbling a bit.
They had been sustaining on tea, water, and biscuits. This was no way to live.
Phoenix wanted to go back to their room, where they could ask a servant to bring them whatever food they wanted. But Astaroth had something different in mind.
"What if, instead of acting like recluse royalty, we acted like normal people? I'm sure the food in the canteen over our heads, the one the Sentinels have, is very good. Want to go eat there, where there will be people around, instead of walls and ceilings?"
The idea wasn't such a bad one, and Phoenix agreed to it. They wouldn't get to eat whatever they wanted, but not eating on their own would have a more realistic feel to it, as well.
But she corrected Astaroth's misconception.
"It's not just the Sentinels that eat in that canteen. Every part of our troops eat there, on shifts. It might be the Sentinels part of the base, but there is only one canteen. So everyone shares it."
Astaroth frowned. He wasn't against everyone eating in the same canteen.
What he was wondering was, why on shifts.
Wouldn't it be better to bond all the factions together if they ate together? He took a mental note to look into it.
He might have to convene a small meeting with all the commanders and hear their opinions on the matter.
But for now, his mind focused on getting some food.
As he and Phoenix climbed the stairs that led to the fifth floor, they encountered a few soldiers, who were on their way down, most likely from having their own meal, since they weren't Sentinels.
It was awkward to watch them bow while on the stairs, and Astaroth kept having to say it wasn't necessary to salute them every time they crossed paths. But he doubted his asking would change their behaviour.
As he and Phoenix finally reached the fifth floor, he noticed the canteen was boisterous with people, most of them being palace guards, mixed with the occasional table of off-duty Sentinels.
But Astaroth noticed a table where only three people were siting and knew he wanted to sit there after grabbing their food. As both royals reached the line waiting for food, the soldiers all suddenly became self-conscious, insisting their king and queen pass before them.
"Please, Milord, Milady, go before this humble soldier. I would never keep you from getting a meal."
"Don't worry about it, soldier. We aren't on a time crunch. I'm sure you have limited time to eat before going back on duty, so keep your spot. We can wait."
The soldiers insisted, but Astaroth insisted harder, and they eventually relented, as the line suddenly started going forth much faster. The soldiers in the front suddenly all knew what they wanted, and there was no more time wasted on choosing.
Astaroth sighed dejectedly, feeling like he was forcing these men and women along, but Phoenix only chuckled in response.
"Let them be, Astaroth. They only want to serve their monarchs well. There is nothing wrong with that."
Sighing loudly again, Astaroth turned his head toward her.
"I know. But I feel like all this attention and special treatment won't do us any good in the long term. I would much rather they treat me like a comrade than a semi-deity."
Phoenix hugged his arm, pecking his cheek with a kiss, trying to cheer him up.
"Maybe in time, dear. For now, let them treat you like they feel. Maybe once you've fought with them in the dirt, they'll start treating you more like a brother in arms. Only time will tell."
As the queue advanced at record speed, Astaroth and Phoenix rapidly reached the counter. The cooks behind it all stopped what they were doing to salute the monarchs.
"Your majesties!"
Astaroth was about to grumble, but Phoenix tugged at his shirt, keeping him quiet. Instead, she was the one to answer.
"Please, at ease. Treat us like any other hungry mouth. What is on the menu today, good sir?"
The head cook took off his chef hat, grasping it with both hands as he bowed, before righting himself once more.
"Anything your stomach so desires, my queen, we shall make."
Astaroth clicked his tongue silently, his annoyance almost visible on his face. The cook twitched at the sound, wondering what he had done to anger the king.
ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm "She meant what do you have going for the soldiers. Please, as she asked, treat us like any other hungry mouth. We are only here to eat while enjoying the atmosphere of a full room. We'll take whatever is on the menu."
The head cook looked at the king with a wry smile, putting back on his hat, before walking to the counter.
"If you insist, Milord. On the menu today, roasted roc-bird, with a balsamic glaze, and greens fresh from the farms in the outskirts. It may not suit the refined palate of royalty, but the soldiers seem quite satisfied with it."
Astaroth glared at him when he mentioned refined palate, and the cook coughed nervously.
"Two platers of that, and whatever you have to drink, that'll make me forget no one is listening to me when I tell them to treat us like normal people."
The cook served them the two platers himself, while the other returned to their knives and pots, and he also poured them each a cup of the finest wine he had on hand. He stayed afraid this wouldn't be good enough for them, but kept his mouth shut as he noticed Astaroth's sharp stare.
Once the pair had their food, Astaroth pulled Phoenix along to a table where two commanders were seated, as well as Declan.
Declan had noticed his and her arrival in the room the moment they stepped into the waiting line, as the hubbub of chatter spread rapidly amongst the troops, and already knew they would come to join him.
As Astaroth sat down, with Phoenix at his side, the Commanders both lowered their heads in a salute but remained seated.
"Your majesties," they echoed simultaneously.
Astaroth smiled.
"Finally! Someone who doesn't treat me like an attention-seeking king. Thank the gods."
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