Seated in the dining hall, Athan and Gerald engaged in a conversation delving deeper into the intricacies of the immolation ritual.

Athan couldn't help but express his admiration, remarking, "So, they are intelligent, then. Their ability to maintain their positions for such extended periods is a testament to their astuteness."

A faint trace of amusement danced across Athan's features as he continued, "I am grateful to have such capable individuals in the Empire. With their support, alongside that of my mother and father, we can bear the weight of this vast empire."

A sense of surprise enveloped Athan as he realized that in this world, there were nobles who did not disregard the commoners. He recalled the countless novels he had read, where nobility showed little regard for the lives and needs of those beneath them.

Indeed, there were discrepancies between the world of fiction and reality. While disheartening in terms of not being able to rely on novel tropes to predict the future, Athan found solace in his understanding of human psychology from his previous life. At least he could navigate through situations with some degree of familiarity.

Throughout their conversation, Athan's gaze remained fixated on Gerald. In that moment, a spontaneous question emerged from Athan's thoughts.

"Uncle Gerald, this question has nothing to do with the immolation. May I inquire about something personal...?"

Gerald's solemn eyes locked onto Athan's, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence.

"No, Your Highness, absolutely not," Gerald replied, devoid of expression.

He continued in his usual stoic manner, "We are engaged in a matter of great importance, Your Highness. Any inquiries regarding my personal life hold little significance in relation to the impending two years. I kindly request that you restrict your questions to those that will be of assistance during this crucial period."

Athan wore a crestfallen expression, his voice filled with longing. "Uncle, can't you make an exception for me? I will be absent for a total of two years."

Athan then directed an intense gaze, accompanied by his puppy-like eyes inherited from his strikingly beautiful mother, who retained her allure even in her late forties. Athan's puppy eyes had proven remarkably effective in the past, even on Gerald, who harbored deep affection for him despite never outwardly displaying warmth.

Gerald maintained his stern countenance, unmoved. "I will grant permission under the condition that this will be your final indulgence in trivial questions before your departure, Your Highn-"

Athan interjected hastily, not allowing Gerald to finish his sentence. "Absolutely."

"Very well, then," Gerald acquiesced. "You may pose your question, Your Highness."

Athan's voice carried a mischievous undertone as he inquired, "Uncle, aren't you in your late thirties?"

A hint of surprise flickered across Gerald's face as he responded, "Yes, Your Highness, that is correct. What are you implying?"

Athan couldn't resist teasing Gerald further, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Then why have you not considered marriage? You are undoubtedly handsome for a man in his late thirties. Surely, there must be many women vying for your attention. I've heard that you are quite renowned in high society as Count Paige."

Gerald's expression revealed a subtle pang of sorrow concealed beneath his usual composure. "Your Highness, I have yet to find someone suitable for me, that is all. I trust that satisfies your curiosity."