CHAPTER 269: WHAT’S HER FORFEIT?

When Aristia said those words, gasps rang out from among the children.

"Princess, a-are you sure?" Someone asked.

A child jabbed the boy. "Her highness has said that she heard it from his majesty and his Imperial highness. Do you think she isn’t sure?"

"Do you know which Fief in the East?"

When someone asked this question, the children kept silent.

That’s right. Which Fiefs would AE build a new restaurant in?

The children all turned to Aristia with curiosity written all over their faces, each wishing it would turn out to be their own Fief.

Aristia shook her head. "I don’t know."

This simple answer left the children feeling restless.

"I hope it’s in my fief." One of the children said.

"I hope it’s in mine. I’ve only tasted the food they make a handful of times, and each time, I’m left salivating." Another said with a dreamy sigh.

[Wipe that drool from your mouth.] Aristia thought.

"If it’s in mine. I’ll go there to eat every day."

"Me too."

The children continued like this until someone said,

"His Imperial highness has the highest status in Amberale, second only to his majesty. If there’s going to be another restaurant in the East, then it’s obviously going to be in Orrivale."

Hearing Wade say this, everyone suddenly realized it was true.

"Hehe, then we’ll visit his highness’s Fief often." Lavinia said with a smile.

"Yes, it’s not that far from my family’s Fief."

Echoes of agreement rang out one after the other from different ends of the table.

"Oh," Lavinia said with a clap of her hands. Everyone turned back their attention to her. "It’s time for games. My governess said it’s proper to have one at every gathering."

The maids quickly cleared the table of cakes and tea since the children had finished them, making space.

The children perked up, some clapping, others whispering excitedly.

The servants quickly brought out trays of fresh flowers, colorful ribbons, and little silver scissors.

"We’ll each make a flower crown," Lavinia explained. "The prettiest one wins."

The children buzzed with excitement.

At once, the children began their subtle war.

While making flowers, Aristia watched them.

[Why not? Watching their silly little tricks is interesting.]

One girl leaned across to "offer" another girl a ribbon, but tugged it just as the other reached, making her drop her flowers. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" she said sweetly.

The girl with the spilled flowers stared at her with wide eyes.

Another boy purposely picked the biggest, brightest flowers and stacked them high, just to make his crown look more extravagant.

Another girl muttered loudly, "Only people with clumsy hands make messy crowns!"

Then she "accidentally" brushed her sleeve across her neighbor’s flowers, scattering them on the ground.

Aristia calmly wound her stems together, watching the petty tricks.

Lavinia just smiled, pleased that the gathering was lively. As long as no one did anything extreme or hurt anyone, then it was okay.

"Tia, I’ll make yours for you," Alaric said suddenly, making a grab for her flowers.

"You already have your own." Aristia said.

"But yours has to be better," he insisted, glowering at the others as if daring them to touch Aristia’s things. Of course, none of the dared to use such petty tricks on the both of them.

Aristia shook her head. "Instead, I’ll help you make yours. You know what, let’s make it together."

Alaric nodded eagerly. "Okay, okay."

When the time was up, Lavinia’s maid collected the crowns and set them in a row. Some were neat, others clumsy, but a few were suspiciously perfect, as if a servant’s hand had helped.

"Now," Lavinia said brightly, "Princess Aristia should be the judge."

Every child straightened instantly, eyes burning with expectation.

Aristia blinked.

[What? Me? Why?]

But she only nodded, then looked at the messy row of crowns.

One was full of mismatched flowers but tied together with clumsy knots. It was done by a nervous little boy who bit his lip as the others smirked at him.

Another was almost too perfect, clearly cheated. Even though Aristia didn’t Kno how they had gotten servants to do it for them.

The rest were varying degrees of good and bad.

Aristia tilted her head, then smiled faintly. "This one," she said, pointing to the messy, lopsided one.

The boy gasped, wide-eyed.

"Eh?!" The other children burst out, shocked. "That one? But it’s so ugly!"

"It looks the happiest." It didn’t look like it was done for the sake of the competition, but the boy was just genuinely having fun.

Everyone’s faces were only showing confusion.

Then, Lavinia clapped, laughing. "The princess has spoken. This one is the winner."

The boy who had won flushed scarlet, smiling for the first time.

The other children gritted their teeth but couldn’t object.

"Since we’re done, shall we play another game?" Lavinia asked.

The children nodded as the servants moved to clear the table again.

"It will be a riddle game," Lavinia announced, her cheeks flushing with pride. "If you answer wrong, you have to do a forfeit."

In the context of children’s games— and old-fashioned parlour games— a forfeit meant a small punishment or silly task you must do when you lose.

The rules were simple enough. Each child took turns asking riddles, and if the chosen person couldn’t solve it, they would be given a silly task.

The first few rounds were harmless.

"I’ll go first," a boy sitting at the other end of the table said, then pointed at someone and asked, "What has hands but cannot clap?"

The person he pointed at replied, "A clock."

"What has four legs in the morning, two at noon, three at night?" Another child asked, pointing at Aristia.

Most frowned in thought, but Aristia answered evenly. "A man. That is, a baby crawling on hands and feet, a man walking with two legs, and an old man with a walking stick."

Her answer earned a ripple of impressed murmurs, then a wave of praises.

The game continued.

But as the game went on, the forfeits grew less innocent.

When one girl stumbled on her riddle, the one who had given it smirked. "Your forfeit is... to stand and sing loudly like a common street performer."

Some children giggled. The girl flushed red, embarrassed.

Aristia’s eyes narrowed slightly. [So that’s how they want to play.]

Lavinia hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the harshness of the suggestion. She wondered if she should step in.

The girl began singing in a trembling voice while others snickered behind their hands.

Aristia leaned back on her seat. Her expression was unreadable, but she was noting everything— which children laughed the loudest, which ones avoided eye contact and which ones watched with a spark of cruelty.

When her turn came, Aristia gave a simple riddle to Alaric.

But as she predicted, he scowled. "I don’t want to answer."

"You have to!" a boy piped up.

Alaric rolled his eyes. "No, I don’t. She’s my sister. She can’t punish me."

Aristia bit back a laugh, her lips twitching. "That’s true," she said seriously, "Alaric is exempted. Next person."

The other children stared, wide-eyed. Who could argue with that?

When another boy failed his riddle, a louder child quickly declared, "Forfeit! You must crawl under the table like a dog!"

The boy’s face turned red, but the others laughed and chanted for him to do it.

[Alright, that does it.] Aristia thought.

She tilted her head, and her calm voice cut through the chants.

"That’s not a proper forfeit."

The laughter died down.

She glanced at each face before adding, "Forfeits should be fun, not cruel. Otherwise, it’s not a game. It’s bullying."

Silence fell over the group. Some fidgeted, while others avoided her gaze.

Lavinia quickly clapped her hands. "Yes, Princess Aristia is right! From now on, the forfeits will be fun ones only."

The boy who had been told to crawl under the table looked up in relief. His eyes flicked to Aristia as if he was silently thanking her.

But a boy asked, "Bullying? We’re only playing."

Aristia tilted her head. But even though her tone was light, it was laced with finality as she smiled tightly at the boy. "Then let’s play properly."

The way she said it made the boy fall quiet.

Lavinia seized the chance and quickly assigned the forfeit herself. "You only have to balance this biscuit on your forehead until I count to five."

The boy laughed nervously but did as he was told. By the end, everyone was clapping and giggling for real.

When it came back to Aristia’s turn, she failed to answer one of the older boys’ riddles.

Whispers spread through the group. Finally, the princess had lost.

Alaric’s and Wade’s eyes widened as if they had received the biggest, most unexpected shock.

Aristia rolled her eyes. [What? Do you think I have all the answers in the world?]

"What should her forfeit be?" One girl asked with a sharp, eager voice, like she had been waiting.