Johnathan had ensconced on the singular couch that mismatched the L couch Kristine was sleeping on and Mr. Chadeleya was plonking.

“Oh, my apologies. Where are my manners?” Mr. Chadeleya stalled as if goading him. “Good morning. Have you slept well?”

“The bed was… nice…” Johnathan spoke faintly.

“Glad you enjoyed it. Was the temperature to your liking? Shall I add more planks to the fireplace?”

“It’s…fine. I feel I could walk barefoot here and I’d be completely fine. The warmth is pleasant…”

“In that case, please wait. Breakfast should be ready soon.”

“Has your brother woken up?” Mrs. Chadeleya asked from the kitchen.

“…Jim? No, he was still asleep.”

“Then, please, come take a seat.” Mrs. Chadeleya pointed at the high stools on the other side of the kitchen counter. 

Three plates were prepared on the counter. Two of the plates had fried eggs in them with silverware next to the plates. There were additional nutrients prepared in separate cups such as honey, butter, sliced bread and cheese. “Breakfast is almost ready for all of you, but you may start ahead if you wish.”

“It’s okay, I’ll wait for them…” Johnathan rebuked politely as he rubbed his nape with his hand.

“Please, do not hesitate,” Mr. Chadeleya incentivised, “it is an honour to be chosen as a host for your accommodation in your travels.”

Johnathan got up and this time plopped down on the high stool. He grabbed a fork, which was plain metal, without any design of any sort to decorate it. 

“Please excuse our unembellished silverware,” Mr. Chadeleya sat next to Johnathan, “this was the best we could accommodate on short notice.”

“That is not the pressing issue here,” Johnathan replied. “Why are you referring to me as a prince?”

“You are the Little Prince, are you not?” Mrs. Chadeleya responded by putting fried eggs on the third, empty plate. It was no longer empty. Anyway, Mrs. Chadeleya spoke with eye contact. “Have we made a mistake?”

“No… not really. I’m just perplexed how.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” Mr. Chadeleya explained. My name is Ødger Chadeleya. I am a retired knight in the Royal Army. I have worked in the palace for a period before my initial retirement. Pleased to get to know you personally.”

“Please, let’s skip the formalities. I appreciate the hospitality.” Johnathan mustered a smile as candour as he could, but he had failed to establish sincerity with the inexcusably overt attempt at chicanery. He shaked Mr. Chadeleya’s hand but promptly regretted it. His hands had to endure a crushing force from every point Mr. Chadeleya’s hand made contact with his. “I…still don’t understand how we have been found out, however, so please enlighten me.”

“You may not recognise a knight. There are countless in the capital. I was one of them, standing guard at the palace before I made the difficult decision to delist and move away from the capital to focus on family.”

“Your point is?”

“We have met before, Your Highness,” he spoke formally. He was no longer stalling, it seemed, but his mien exposed he was tongue-tied. “My point was that I do not hold it against you for not recognising me.”

“Please, we’re not in the palace. In your home, no less. There’s no need for formalities here,” Johnathan insisted. He felt guilt because he was a banished prince. He could not find it in him to break the news to those who were obviously oblivious to the fact. 

It was a pointless dilemma; he felt guilt because he was unsure his title had meaning any longer even though he was still treated like a prince. He must have thought the right thing was to tell them the truth and let them decide whether hospitality was adequate. At the same time, though, he wished not for them to know. It could have been his ego, or he had found delight in being pampered again even after he had matured long ago. Either option was morally dubious enough to bother his conscience, especially the former.

“Unlike the pompous cankankeroose boy, I would like you not to skip the formalities and pamper me like the prince I am,” Jimothan spoke from in front of Kristine’s room’s door. All eyes turned to him as he wobbled groggily and eventually occupied a seat adjacent to Mr. Chadeleya.

“I think you meant cantankerous, Jim,” Johnathan spoke with a glaring irk.

“Whatever, nerd. I’m too eepy to stand your voice. Just shut up for a bit until I’m done with the food.” At that moment, he brazenly stuffed the fried eggs in his mouth. The yolk leaked out of his mouth as he chewed, but only after he swallowed he decided to wipe his mouth. Even after he wiped his mouth with a napkin, the stain had not completely disappeared because of Jimothan’s sloppiness.

Johnathan pointed at Jimothan’s mouth. “There. The stains are still there. Wipe it again.”

“Don’t boss me ‘round, brat,” Jimothan glared, speaking while chewing some of the cheese he borrowed. He used a fork to pick up the cheese, which was quite surprising with his impertinence in mind.

“Don’t speak with food in your mouth!” Johnathan told him off, ignoring Mr. Chadeleya entirely. “Not even counting how rude it is, it is just unpleasant to look at!”

“I’m ugly because of a hindrance when you’re just unpleasant to look at in general,” he spoke while chewing a slice of bread, “so keep your opinions to yourself. No one cares.”

“Eat now,” Mr. Chadeleya urged Johnathan, “argue later. Please.”

Johnathan affirmed with a nod. He poked the yolk of the egg and let it flow. With his fork, he grabbed a slice of bread, cut an even smaller piece out of it, and then rubbed it against the dishevelled yolk. He repeated this process until all the remaining yolk had dried and did not stick to bread.

“So, to what do we have the pleasure of thy company, Your Highness?” Mrs. Chadeleya asked as she cleaned the pan she was using with a sponge. 

“I’m going to Shenfú,” Jimothan replied. He spoke with a lump of white substance no longer eligible for comprehension of its original state. He did not seem to pick up on Mrs. Chadeleya’s irony despite responding to ‘Your Highness’ egotistically. “The brat’s going the other way, but he was too scared to travel alone, so he begged for me to go with him. It was so pathetic.”

“On the contrary,” Johnathan replied after swallowing a piece of white of an egg, “Unlike what he insinuates, my proposal was deduced with logic to maximise our chances of survival in the wilderness, not just my own. He should be grateful.”

“That may have been for the best,” Mr. Chadeleya stated indifferently. “it is about time for the Meorné to go hunting one last time before they descend the ocean for hibernation. The entire village could burn down in a few minutes in the worst case. It’s better to stick together.”

“The Meorné?”

“You can think of them like flying seahorses, really. They go into hibernation deep in the deep sea of Oceania during autumn and spring. They come back up during winter and summer to eat, and considering winter’s just about over, they may pass by here any day now.”

“And how exactly does that pose a threat to us, smartass?” Jimothan quipped. 

“These creatures act quite volatile. They usually float around and eat any flying creatures like birds and insects, but when they find something a threat, they can get unreasonably and unpredictably aggressive and violent.”

“Well, I have not yet studied flying, and the very little teleportation I can use is practically useless, anyway. I, too, fail to grasp the threat of this situation,” Johnathan agreed with his older brother. He was not pleased with the fact that he made sense for once.

“These Meorné are dangerous because they spit plasmic masses of fiery spheres as a means of self-defence, usually with the intent of clearing themselves a path of fire and ash,” Mr. Chadeleya described with a straight face. “They should not be underestimated.” 

“That’s so poetic, dad,” Kristine expressed how piqued she was. She wasted no time in seeking refuge under the blanket, unclear whether sheltering herself from her father or the white noise of Demons conversing distantly. “Can you keep it down? I’m tryna sleep,” she appended thereupon.

“So you are awake,” Mr. Chadeleya japed. “Come eat breakfast, too. It’s getting cold.” 

“The house is like an oven itself. What’re you worried about?” Kristine buried her face in her pillow under the blanket.

“At least you’re listening in, but you should take this seriously, too.”

“Dad, you’re like the only person paranoid about stuff like this. Give it a rest, please.”

“Well, what about you?” Mrs. Chadeleya asked Johnathan as she dried her hands with a towel. “You never gave me an answer.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh, uhm… I wanna go to the Federation… and, you know. See everything for myself. I was thinking I could get through Oceania through the Jumping Island, but I have no clue how.”

“I would have expected a Prince to use the airport back in the capital. Is there a particular reason you want to traverse through Oceania?” Mrs. Chadeleya expedited her question by speaking fast.

“I…have my reasons. We fled Hjelmstad for a reason.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jimothan said. “I never liked it there.” 

“Stop trying to steal the spotlight, Jim. She’s talking to me right now.”

“What, you jealous over some old hag?”

“You’re pushing your limits, Your Highness,” Mrs. Chadeleya intervened.

The brotherly bickering had not ceased in due time. It was like peacetime was natural turmoil for the two brothers of de la Rosa blood.

The Chadeleya household opened its doors for the two brothers. They were told that the two of them could stay for as long as they wished. Johnathan had insisted on being of aid and earning his stay, whereas the other had not backed off and demanded to be pampered.

Jimothan hath later took an interest in the retired soldier. He requested training from Ødger, but by the end of the day, his fatigue hath leached his smugness down a cold shower among his sweat.

Johnathan was content with assisting Reginleif Chadeleya, Kristine’s mother, with household chores. He cleaned Kristine’s room he and his brother had shared at night. He tidied the bed, collected the clothing Jimothan had thrown on the floor while changing and cleaned them forthwith.

To be concise, ‘cleaning’ may not be sufficient for Johnathan’s maladroitness. He had rubbed a bar of soap over their pyjamas. Then, he soaked the clothing in a bowl of water and lost them in the overload of bubbles that overflowed.

It took several hours to save the clothing and dry them. Their colours had faded distinctively by that point.

Kristine was chosen as the gofer. She was sent for a long shopping session and stocking up on various supplies, along with other errands Ødger was meant to be tasked with.

All in all, everyone was exhausted. The house went silent earlier than the day prior.