Theodore stood outside his room like an idiot.

Just go. Simple as that. Walk to dinner, sit down, eat food, make small talk. Normal people did this every day.

But here he was, frozen, until someone walked up to him.

"What's wrong?" Freya asked.

"Nothing's wrong."

"You've been standing here for quite some time."

"And you've been what, observing me?"

"Mhmm. I was given the room right beside if you weren't aware, and yes, I was observing since I was out for a walk and just returned. Anyway, what's wrong?"

"Just... thinking."

She studied him with those too-perceptive eyes of hers. Then, surprisingly, she reached out and squeezed his hand. Quick, barely there, but enough to make him look at her.

"I don't know your family situation, but you'll probably be fine."

Theodore didn't know how to feel about that. Comfort from Freya, of all people?

He sighed. He wasn't good with this stuff. Never had been. Back on Earth, his relationship with his father had been... complicated. And now he had to navigate not just one difficult family dynamic, but a whole mess of them.

"Thanks," he said.

She shrugged.

***

The dining room was exactly as formal as he'd expected, though he knew his family would be anything but formal, given how their grandfather preferred family dinners to be. Casual, conversational, and nothing tense or fixated on absolute etiquette—which was quite surprising for this day and age.

It was a long table that could seat many, though only six places were set tonight. Crystal everything. Servants standing at attention along the walls. His mother rose immediately when she saw him, crossing the room in a rustle of silk.

"Theodore! Oh, my dear boy, look at you!"

She pulled him into a hug before he could dodge. Her hands framed his face, examining him like she was checking for damage.

"You look well. Healthy. Have you been eating enough? You seem thin. Sorry I couldn't meet earlier, I have been busy. How have you—"

"I'm fine, Mother."

"Lenna, let the boy breathe." His father said. Alexander Lockheart sat at the head of the table, watching them with that expression that gave away absolutely nothing. He had the kind of presence that made rooms feel smaller.

"Of course, of course." His mother released him but kept one hand on his arm, guiding him to his seat. "Come, sit. We have so much to catch up on."

The seating arrangement told him everything. Father at the head, obviously. Mother to his right. Maximillian to his left, already seated, posture perfect like someone had replaced his spine with a steel rod. Juliana next to their mother. An empty seat that would've been Alden's. Then Theodore, with little Leona across from him.

Wait. Little wasn't right anymore. The girl across from him was probably fourteen now. Still young, but with that awkward in-between look teenagers got. Trying so hard to seem adult while still having baby fat in her cheeks.

She was glaring at him.

Great

.

Well, he could understand. The original Theodore hadn't really been kind to her, and had always pointed out how she was lesser due to her mother being a concubine.

"Father. Maximillian. Leona." Theodore said, nodding.

"Theodore. Your hair's longer," Maximillian observed.

Was it? Theodore hadn't really noticed. "I suppose."

"It suits you."

"Thank you. Where's Alden?"

"With his fiancée," his mother said, settling back into her seat. "They're touring her family's estates. Been gone nearly a month now, but they should return before the tournament season truly begins."

Right. Alden was engaged. "And Benson?"

"Collecting Benny from the Knight Institute," Maximillian said. "They should return within the week."

Two brothers both named after their great-grandfather. Benson, because that wasn't confusing at all. Though Theodore supposed it made sense, in a weird noble family way. Honor the ancestors and all that. Thankfully, the older was referred to as Ben typically and younger as Benny, to avoid confusion.

The first course arrived and they began eating, making small talk and stuff. Theodore learned that his step mothers were currently out, Lady Cassandra managing the western trade negotiations and Lady Mirelle maintaining interests somewhere else.

His father had political marriages, both of them, though nobody called them that in polite company.

"They'll return before the month's end," his mother added. "The tournament brings everyone back. They will probably return with their mother. Ah, speaking of returning," she continued, brightening. "Juliana, your friend—Freya, was it? Such a lovely girl. However did you meet?"

Theodore nearly choked on his food. He shot Juliana a glare. Did his parents not know what was going on with Freya's situation?!

Juliana smiled and explained the situation, and the atmosphere turned rather serious.

"We will talk about this later," his father said finally.

"I'd love to meet her properly," his mother said. "Perhaps she could join us for tea tomorrow?"

"She's... tired from traveling. She didn't want to be in this dinner, either, as you can see."

"Nonsense! I insist. And your father would like to meet her too, wouldn't you, dear?"

"Indeed."

"I'll ask her," Juliana said, knowing she had no choice.

"So," his mother said. "Tell us about Holden! You never wrote to your mother, I was so lonely! We want to hear everything."

"It's developing well," he said carefully. "We've started some infrastructure projects. Improvements to the water system, new construction methods. The people are responsive to change when they see the benefits."

"Infrastructure?" Maximillian looked up. "That's... unexpected."

"People need clean water and proper roads more than they need another statue of some dead noble," Theodore said.

"Quite right," Max agreed.

"And this invention of yours!" His mother exclaimed.

Theodore nearly dropped his spoon. "What?"

His mother beamed at him. "Master Aldric sent word once he returned. Something about a tremendous breakthrough that has the entire Enchanters' Guild in an uproar? And the Academy! Those who study runes haven't been this excited in decades, he said."

How did—when did—Master Aldric?

"I'm so proud of you, dear."

The words hit him like a physical blow. She was proud of him. Something twisted in his chest. Hot and uncomfortable and confusing. Did he want to hear that? Ethan? Or was it the original Theodore, whose memories still colored everything? He'd thought he'd accepted it all, accepted being Theodore completely, but moments like this...

Moments like this, he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"It was just a simple modification to existing principles," he managed, pushing down whatever was happening in his chest.

"Modest, too! Oh, Theodore, you really have grown."

Leona snorted.

"Something to say, Leona?" Maximillian's tone suggested there better not be.

She straightened, chin up, defiant. "Just seems convenient. He goes away in disgrace and suddenly comes back all reformed and brilliant? Please!"

"Leona!" Their mother's voice was sharp. "Apologize at once."

"Why should I?"

"It's fine," Theodore said. "She's not wrong. I was a disappointment before."

"You were a complete ass," Leona corrected.

"Language," Maximillian said automatically.

"What? He was! He broke off his engagement in the most public, humiliating way possible. He dueled Lord Garrett's son over some stupid slight. He spent more time in taverns than—"

"That's enough." Their father's voice cut through her rant like a blade.

Silence.

"We are having dinner as a family," he continued. "We will conduct ourselves accordingly."

Leona slumped in her chair, properly chastised but still radiating resentment.

The second course arrived. Theodore ate mechanically, barely tasting it. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with one of the stupid fancy knives.

"So how's Leona been doing?"

"Leona's doing wonderfully at the Royal Academy," their mother said, desperately trying to salvage the conversation. "Top of her class in magical theory."

"That's great," Theodore offered.

Leona glared at him harder.

"Perhaps you could give her some pointers?" their mother suggested, and Theodore realized the intent behind those words. But he knew that this was just going to make Leona snap. "Since you've become so accomplished with magic and enchanting?"

"I don't need his help," Leona snapped.

"Now, dear—"

"I don't! I'm doing perfectly fine on my own. I don't need some—some wastrel who suddenly decided to pretend he's reformed to—"

"That is quite enough, young lady," Maximillian said. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"I'm embarrassing myself? He's the one who—"

She turned those furious eyes on him. Kid had her mother's eyes but their father's temper, apparently. Dangerous combination.

"Who ruined everything! Who made our family a laughingstock! Who got himself exiled—oh, sorry, 'encouraged to manage a border territory'—and now wants to waltz back in here like nothing happened!"

"You're right," he said.

That stopped her mid-rant.

"I was all of those things. Worse, probably. I don't expect you to forgive me or trust me or even like me. But I'm trying to be better."

She stared at him, suspicious. Like she was waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, her expression shifted to confusion.

"Mother," Theodore said, turning away from Leona. "I'd be happy to offer pointers if Leona wants them. But I won't force it."

"I don't want them," Leona said immediately.

"You should see your grandfather after dinner," his father said suddenly.

Theodore looked up. Father was watching him with those dark eyes that seemed to see everything and give away nothing.

"Of course."

"He's in the gardens," his mother added softly. "On his favorite bench."

Oh. That bench. The one where he'd apparently proposed to grandmother. It was an old story in their house, told and retold until it had taken on the quality of myth. Grandfather had probably lived for long. Maybe he went there to remember, or maybe he just liked the view.

"I'll find him," Theodore said.

Theodore ate mechanically, his mind already elsewhere. On grandfather and purple fire and questions he didn't know how to ask. On Leona's anger and his mother's pride and his father's silence. On the fact that he had no idea how to be part of this family.

"Actually," Leona said suddenly.

She was standing, hands flat on the table, leaning forward with a look of determination that would've been adorable if it wasn't directed at him.

"I have a better idea."

"Leona, sit down," Maximillian said.

She ignored him. "A duel. Magic only. If I win, you don't teach me anything and you admit you're still the same pathetic wastrel you always were. And if I lose… Then... then I'll accept his teaching. But I won't lose!"

Theodore looked at this girl—his youngest sibling, technically stepsister but family was family—standing there with her chin raised and her hands trembling slightly with anger or nerves or both.

Fourteen years old and so certain she could take him down? It was, he had to admit, kind of adorable. He almost chuckled.

"Absolutely not," their mother said.

"Why not?" Leona demanded.

"Because we don't duel family members at the dinner table!"

"We're not at the dinner table, we'd go to the training grounds—"

"The principle remains the same!"

"Mother—"

"I accept," Theodore said.

They both turned to stare at him.

Leona's eyes widened slightly, like she hadn't expected him to actually agree. Then her expression hardened into determination.

Maximillian chuckled, Juliana was silent, and Father sighed.

***

AN: What a wholesome dinner.

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