"Another bowl!"
Danzo shouted, slamming his empty plate down and demanding more of the spicy stew.
"Another one? Since when did you start loving spicy food this much?"
Leaning on his elbow, Frey asked, still not halfway through his own meal.
"This is your fault! Why do you only eat spicy stuff?"
Danzo glared, having developed a strange habit of copying Frey's taste.
"I never asked you to follow me around. As for the reason I eat this much spice..."
Frey smiled faintly as a distant memory surfaced—one of the few he could proudly call a good one.
"Let's just say I miss a friend who used to make this kind of food."
"Old man Shaheen?" Danzo asked, broth dripping from his chin.
"You still remember him, huh?"
"Of course. I visited him with you a few times... I wonder where that weird old guy went."
Danzo remembered the strange dishes the man used to make. They weren't popular ... barely anyone ever visited his place.
But the food wasn't bad. In fact, it was… unique.
"I suppose he's living somewhere out there . I haven't seen him in a long time, but he's the one who left me with this spicy habit."
Frey pointed to his bowl.
"Let's hope he's alright… things are looking grim with the upcoming war."
"Yeah. I heard there have already been some skirmishes along the border..."
It had been a few weeks since Frey returned from Londor.
While he resumed life at the temple, the Empire continued to drift back and forth in a tense deadlock with the faction known as the Ultras.
"War could break out at any moment."
That line was being echoed everywhere—among guild leaders, officials, and those in power.
War always brought chaos, but for some, it was a golden opportunity.
Destruction for the masses… profit for the few.
This upcoming chapter of death and ruin wasn't as straightforward as it seemed.
"Thanks to that, the temple training has gotten more intense than ever before."
"Really?"
Frey asked, face blank as ever. Danzo slapped him on the back, annoyed.
"You're pissing me off. Are you so strong now that you don't even notice anymore?"
Lately, some individuals had begun to shine, far outpacing their peers.
Frey Starlight and Snow Lionheart were among the most notable—especially Frey.
Ever since his hair turned white again, he'd become... different.
No one had seen him lose. Not even to the instructors.
In fact, no one had even seen him sweat.
His rapid growth had reached levels that drew comparisons to Abraham Starlight, though Frey never agreed with such praise.
"You're exaggerating."
The young lord of the Starlight family barely reacted to anything these days, which only fueled Danzo's frustration.
"There it is again! That old-man vibe you give off. Show some damn energy!"
With a louder thud, Danzo smacked Frey's back with full force.
Frey didn't mind. He just chuckled softly, barely budging from the blow.
"I'm not the old man here, Danzo. You're just the one who hasn't grown up yet."
Danzo scowled at Frey's calm smile.
"I don't get you anymore, Frey Starlight. Should I call you the effeminate prince? Or the ancient geezer? Pick one already, damn it!"
He grumbled about Frey's ever-shifting demeanor.
"Just call me Frey, like everyone else does."
"Yeah, like I'd ever do that."
They continued talking while eating—a daily routine at this point.
Sometimes, Ghost and Snow would join them. Even Sansa dropped by now and then. But today, it was just the two of them.
"Come to think of it... the princess has been hanging around you a lot lately. Maybe your crush isn't as one-sided as the rumors say?"
Danzo teased, remembering whispers about Frey's feelings for Sansa.
She had left the temple for a while but returned later with a dramatic change in demeanor—almost like a female version of Frey.
"We're just friends."
Frey replied, thinking quietly of Sansa.
The princess had indeed grown closer to him lately, especially after everything they'd experienced together ... but he would never go as far as to call what they shared love.
Sansa wasn't the type of girl who'd fall for someone just because he saved her.
Still, it was enough to make their bond stronger than ever.
"Friends, huh..."
With a swift motion, Danzo slung an arm around Frey's shoulder, pulling their faces close.
"Listen, since the princess is on your good side, why don't we, you know…"
"What?" Frey asked, not catching the drift. Danzo continued.
"It'd be great if we all had another sleepover, right? But this time, I was thinking of inviting the girls too—hey, why are you laughing?!"
He stopped, bewildered at the rare sight of Frey actually laughing.
It was a stronger reaction than usual... maybe Danzo was the only one who could get this kind of response out of him lately.
"So you want girls now, huh? But how bold do you have to be to even think of inviting the princess to your house?"
Frey teased, and Danzo's shoulders slumped on instinct.
"You're right…"
"Don't take Daemon's words too seriously. He's built different from us."
After all, Daemon Valerion acted like he was already in his thirties.
"Yeah, yeah... shouldn't have thought of inviting Sansa…"
Danzo sighed in defeat.
"Invite me to what?"
Danzo froze as a soft feminine voice reached his ears from behind.
He didn't even want to turn around. Frey, however, had noticed her long before she spoke.
"Hey, Sansa,"
he greeted without missing a beat as the princess sat beside him.
"Hello... were you talking about me?"
"Absolutely not!"
Danzo shouted loud enough to make the whole restaurant glance their way.
"Suspicious..."
Sansa didn't buy it for a second—she could see the lie written all over his face.
"He wants to invite you to a group sleepover,"
Frey said plainly, without any attempt to sugarcoat it.
Danzo's face turned to stone as Frey threw him under the bus—again. Worse, Sansa didn't seem opposed to the idea.
"A sleepover? Like when a bunch of people stay over in one house and do all those activities?"
"Exactly. I take it you've never been to one before, princess?"
Danzo looked between Frey and Sansa, trying to process how quickly things were escalating.
"To be honest… I haven't."
"Would you like to try it?"
Frey asked, and Sansa shook her head gently.
"I can't leave the temple. Besides... I don't want to get involved with him."
"Too bad . You heard that, Danzo."
Danzo shrank in his seat, rejected outright. He said nothing.
"Whatever, man... I'm over it."
He pouted as Frey laughed at his misery.
They both ordered another plate—mostly so Sansa wouldn't eat alone.
Silence returned for a moment, except for Danzo, who kept muttering under his breath, cursing Frey for blurting everything out so casually.
Meanwhile, Frey turned his attention to Sansa.
"Is there something on my face?"
he asked, noticing her staring at him.
Sansa flinched, startled by his unnerving awareness.
"N-no… it's nothing."
She looked away quickly as Frey raised his eyes to meet hers.