77 The Rosenthal Mother and Son

I would be lying if I said I came to Damien not expecting this would happen. In reality, there was a reason why I looked for him specifically. And that reason is his mother, Countess Rosenthal.

To any other individual in this ball, I would've just been another ordinary commoner. On the surface, there's hardly any reason or incentive one would get from socializing with me.

However, the same couldn't be said for the Countess. It wasn't a 100% certain, however the chances that she would encourage her son to interact with me were several times higher than that of any other person in here.

First reason, is that she's aware that I'm pretty close, or at least acquainted, with someone from the Incaross Family—due to the time that we met her in that bar Aerin took me to. That means I'm not a complete nobody. Secondly, with her famed Prying Eyes, she can undoubtedly perceive the true level of my magic and its vast profundity.

I'm not sure how I fare up against her but for every other person here that is around my age, I'm miles ahead of all of them. This I know from the words that Aerin have said to me multiple times in the past.

In other words—and I say this without trying to be boastful—she should know how much of a hidden 'talent' I am.

Anyways, as we arrived at the Rosenthal Family's assigned table, Damien sat down first in annoyance. Me however, being the suck up piece of shit that I am, noticed the Countess standing and hastened to pull out her chair gently and offer her a seat with courtesy.

"Oh? Thank you.." The Countess smiled warmly at me in gratitude as she sat down, clearly pleased by my polite gesture.

My actions weren't as smooth as refined as I would've hope it to be, but the meaning was there. It was undoubtedly cheeky and Damien shot me an irritated glance, seemingly implying that my action was unwarranted. His probably saw it as foolish or opportunistic.

He turned his face to the side and seemed to be looking at something. I followed his gaze, and I could see his earlier companions chatting it up with a few young ladies from the other families. They look like they're enjoying themselves, and had I not talked to him, he would've been right there with them.

No wonder he's frustrated.

I would too, had I been in his situation.

Then, as I sit down at the table with the mother and son pair, I initiate the conversation by saying. "Thank you for your gracious invitation," I say respectfully.

The Countess's glasses made it difficult to discern her facial expressions, but from the way she looked and dressed—with her suit and pants, as opposed to a dress—and the way she carried herself—back straight, chin held high—I had a feeling she was the no-nonsense type of person.

The Countess waved her hand. "Think nothing of it," she replied kindly. "I've always hoped that my son could meet some good friends here in the banquet."

"And I almost did… earlier," said Damien as he made no efforts to hide his discontent, his eyes wandering everywhere except towards my general direction.

The Countess noticed Damien's prickly demeanor and asked me kindly,"Moreover, have you eaten yet? I saw that you've been standing around for a long time, so you likely do not have a table of your own. The line isn't too long now, so you could probably get a meal for yourself so long as my son accompanies you."

"…?!" Damien quickly turned his head, clearly adverse to the idea.

"I appreciate the kind offer, but I've already had my fill," politely, I declined. "My teacher got me a meal earlier," I purposefully added.

Damien might not know who she is, but the Countess surely did. "I see. How kind of her then," she replied. I thought surely she would bring up Aerin of her own accord but, surprisingly, she didn't. Rather, she continued with: "It's not everyday that we get to eat such rare delicacies from all around the world."

It seems that despite their riches, foreign cuisine is still hard to come by due to scarcity and limited accessibility.

"How about the Countess? I heard you don't typically attend these gatherings. People were surprised to see you here in person," I then asked.

The Countess paused for a second before answering. "Well, Damien here informed me that he would be performing in the banquet. So I thought I might as well watch his performance and in the meantime, keep him from associating with the wrong sorts of people."

I glanced at Damien, who met my gaze defiantly, likely displeased at being so closely watched over.

"Tsk.. I only said that you watch me. No one asked you to do all that," he said through his teeth.

Although I came here to be 'friends' with Damien, it felt like every interactions actually only worsens the relationship between us. Not that I'm gonna go out of my way to fix it though. Other than getting that 'reward' from Aerin, there's really no reason for me to get any closer with him, besides maybe his hot mother.

* * * *

How much longer will this last?

I scowled as the commoner prattled on to Mother. As if I needed a babysitter at a stupid charity event!

When I said I wanted Mother to watch me, I meant showing off my new music skills, not having her chaperone me like an insolent child.

I scoffed at the fool's naive question. Maelstrom, or something was it? "Tsk.. I only said that you watch me. No one asked you to do all that," I say through gritted teeth.

Mother's forcing me to socialize with this nobody only stokes my resentment. There's no 'reward' worth enduring his company longer than needed.

To be honest, the only slightly redeeming thing about this fiasco is Mother herself. I had slightly hoped she would dress up more 'womanly', befitting her status as a Countess. But even dressed in that unflattering suit, she remains graceful and elegant, utterly captivating.

But that's beside the point.

She was the one who told me to go out and socialize with other people, and when I finally did find a group of other boys who share my interests, she pulls me out to talk with this person! I don't get it. I did as I was told and she willingly ruined my efforts.

I shot the insolent fool a withering glare. Let him know in no uncertain terms: I tolerate his presence for Mother's sake alone.

However, my hostile intent actually managed to completely fly over this person's head, as he smiled and said: "Oh, you're right! I hope you and your companion do well on your performance later. To be honest, I'm still pretty nervous about performing mine solo."

This brat..

After our earlier interaction, it's hard to believe that any of his niceties are genuine. It feels fake. At least, I would never act this way towards someone that had threatened me just an hour before. There must be a reason as to why he's acting so friendly.

Then again, those of lower birth often lack subtlety and decorum. They do not understand the finer points of manners and diplomacy that we nobles are taught from a young age. Would he even recognize a threat unless I spelled it out plainly with a knife at his throat?

"Oh, you're performing as well? Well, I suppose she wouldn't bring you here without reason," said Mother.

I didn't know who Mother meant by 'she' but if I'm guessing, then it must be the teacher that he mention earlier—the one who gave him food.

"Yes, but I'm performing last." he sighed regretfully.

"There's no need to be ashamed, everyone starts from somewhere." My mother comforted him. "Rather, I'm actually pretty curious about you. What do you usually do?"

"Me? Uh, I usually read books in my free time and–" he answered, and I couldn't even listen to the next words that he said because I could feel Mother looking at me from the corner of her eyes.

A boy who loves to read and also play instruments? After hearing that, her eyes were looking at me as if to say: 'See? Even this commoner boy can do it, why can't you?'

In my mother's mind, there are only a few 'good' hobbies that she considers acceptable for her kid. It's either studying and reading—the dream hobby of almost every parent; Playing instruments, because that's supposed to be classy or sophisticated; Chess or checkers, basically any of those intellectual board games; And to a lesser extent, maybe arts—but only painting or calligraphy.

The nerdy and boring stuff that turns the girls away.

She doesn't approve of my actual interests: mock duels with magical weapons, horse racing, hunting game, women, or plotting elaborate pranks. Those actually have tangible rewards and a great sense of satisfactions once done or won.

Of course, such 'goody two-shoes' hobbies impress her as she asked: "Oh? What do you usually read?"

Do you actually believe that Mom? He's just saying that to make himself look better. There's no way he's actually reading serious literature. Look, he's gonna say philosophy just to sound educated.

And just as I expected, his words were as follows: "I used to read a lot of philosophy–" I shook my head, trying to hide the smile that formed due to second-hand embarrassment but he continued on.

"–but I guess my interests may have shifted a little bit. Given my status, I realize that I don't have the luxury of contemplating about life's various questions. Instead, I moved on to more practical topics like economics and history," he added. "And from time to time, I read about spirituality and faith."

"…" Isn't that too much? I get it if he's bragging about reading philosophy. But all I have to do is ask and it'd be so embarrassing for him if he gets caught lying.

Looking at my mother, I can see that even one of her eyebrows are raised, seemingly in doubt. "An interesting choice of subjects," she said coolly. "When you mentioned practicality, I can understand you mentioning economics and history. But why faith?" she then asked.

"..."

'Finally,' I thought to myself. 'The fraud has finally been exposed. Mother sees through his pathetic attempt to impress us with fake interests.' I suppressed a satisfied smirk as I waited eagerly to watch his flimsy lies crumble under the weight of Mother's scrutiny.

The peasant shifted uncomfortably under Mother's questioning gaze. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. But then he spoke hesitantly, "I'm afraid the reason isn't as proper or commendable–"

"Oh, do tell," said Mother, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands, her interest piqued. "You only made me more curious by saying that."

He looked hesitant, but managed to squeeze the words out of his mouth. "I… When I see all the injustice of this world. All the unfairness. The evildoers that evade or, worse, hide behind the law and go not just unpunished, but rewarded for their crimes… I suppose a part of me wishes that there really will be a god who judges all equally and impart justice"

"It doesn't even have to be judgment or an afterlife… Even a second life or reincarnation, I'm willing to accept," he continued. "As long as death was not truly the end for all those who never had a fair chance, for those who were wronged."

"Reading of Gods and the afterlife brings me some peace of mind, I suppose." he admitted quietly. "For it seems too cruel if this life were really all there is."

I couldn't help but smirk at those words.

Of course faith would appeal to one of his level, desperate for hope beyond the harsh realities of their mundane lives. But for those who controlled their own destinies, such false solace was needless. Uncertainty held no terror for me. I faced the future with confidence, secure in my noble birthright. While this peasant clutched at fanciful faith to alleviate his meaningless lot in life.

No, there would be no 'comeuppance' for the noble and powerful in an afterlife. We make our own justice in this world. Those who lack such power must resort to prayers instead.

However, to my surprise, I could see my mother's mouth remain slightly open, seemingly taken aback by his words. His heavy words lingered on their air for a little bit longer before she was able to let out a dry chuckle. "And here I was thinking you'd say something about salvation, hope, or perhaps the meaning of life…" she let out a low laugh.

Hearing that, I thought me and my mother both saw his answer as foolish, and thus I chided in.

"I suppose faith provides comfort to those who lack worldly power," I commented dryly. "The powerless must clutch at something to soothe their meaningless lot in life."

However, rather than agreeing with me, Mother actually shot me a dreadfully reproachful look. "DAMIEN!!" Planting her face in her palm, Mother sighed. "We will speak of this later. In private."

I stared in disbelief. Mother was actually taking this commoner seriously! His trite words had impressed her while my honest opinion was deemed "cruel". What did some lowborn know of philosophy or faith? Likely he'd just read a few verses, parroted it around, and believed himself to be wise, eager to impress his betters.

She turned back to this commoner Maelstrom, Michael, or whatever his stupid name is. "Please, forgive my son. He is still young and has much to learn," wherein she actually lowered her head in apology.

The peasant smiled graciously. "Think nothing of it." But his simple grace only fueled my outrage at being chided and apologized for like a child! This guy is my age, if not younger than me, and he's acting like he's some old bigshot in front of my mother of all people.

A smile then crept up her lips, as she replied to his earlier words. "I do agree with your sentiments. Often times, evil goes unpunished and it's such a heartbreaking thing to see," taking a swig off of her wine, she commented. "It seems like your teacher weren't lying."

While Mother listened eagerly, I stared sullenly at the banquet's gaudy decor. What did I care for this peasant's hobbies? Let him preen and posture for Mother's approval.

Our stations in life are set – no amount of reading or performing will allow a lowborn to climb into noble circles. Let Mother fawn over this commoner and his 'admirable' hobbies, this will be the last time I'll see of him anyway. My time is better spent with those who share my experiences, not wasting away listening to this nobody drone on for Mother's amusement.

"Excuse me, Mother," I interjected coolly. "I believe my performance is coming up soon, so I better look for Mikael and prepare." I left without waiting for a reply.

* * * *

I watched as Damien left the table in frustration, and I could somewhat understand. There's nothing more annoying than to hear your parents go on and on about this one person, this one cousin, that just somehow is always doing better than you.

Normally, I might've sympathized with him. But when I'm the guy that his mother is comparing him to, how can I not feel ecstatic?

However, after seeing her son leave so abruptly, I could hear her sigh audibly. "If only he was more like you," she leaned back on her seat.

While I reveled in her praise, I made sure to keep my reply courteous. "I'm sure he has his merits," There's no points to be gained by openly talking shit about a son in front of his mother.

To my surprise however, she actually laughed bitterly at my comment. "You think so? A mother knows her children best." She looked at me and continued. "I hoped that he would at least gain some friends that can help set him on the right path, but he doesn't even have that. Birds of a feather flock together. He and his friend waste money on gambling and women. I fear next he won't stop at brothel women, but start laying hands on the people here. Several maids have complained about his recent behavior."

"Even now, without Mikael, he naturally gravitated towards the most lecherous group of boys he could've found in this entire banquet."

"Sometimes, I hate the fact that I've come to be this strong. My hearing is a little too perceptive for it's own good," she added with a sigh.

I didn't even know what the most appropriate words to say in this situation is. The mother is openly shit talking her son. Am I supposed to agree? Say her son is shit? But I feel like that'd elicit a negative reaction. Its like the: 'Only I can talk shit about my son' kind of thing.

Thus, I just nodded and let her vent, chiming in with a simple: "I see."

"I've tried confronting him directly about it, but he only shrinks back and lies every time I do so. I tried being both hard or gentle with him but he just won't open up to me."

"Forgive my rambling," she said. "I might've had a few too many drinks. Though I would really welcome it if you could become my son's friend. He needs at least one good friend among the catalog of good-for-nothings that he currently has." she said as she looked at me, putting down her sunglasses to show her sincerity.

A pair of clear hazel eyes stared right into mine, filled with nothing but concern for the future well-being of her child.

"I know it's a hassle and his personality is pretty difficult to deal with, but I can make it worth your time," she said with concern. "I just want him on the right path."