Chapter 115: The Silence at the Dinner Table

Their trio ate on, homey love and care raising the veil of darkness from their world.

For now, they had each other.

And that was enough.

That’s what everyone was eating - the goodies and pastry Victor had brought from the city.

The smell of honey-glazed goodies and the taste of dried meats were in the air.

Interacting with the pale golden glow of the spirit lamps, which swayed serenely in the air.

The noise of the clean-up. Laughter and cheer filled the hall.

A soothing tune cloaked over them like a cozy blanket.

Anna occupied the head of the table with her long black hair flowing down her back like a river under the moonlight.

Dressed in a tight black robe embroidered with red petals all the way down to the hem.

The fabric hugging her gently with her curves before cascading down and pooling at her feet.

The pretty red sash running about her waist drew attention to her shape: the sweet curve of her peach-shaped hips.

Her robe’s slit showed a little of her slender, toned legs as she moved in her chair.

Her red eyes, soft and motherly, glistened with satisfaction as she savored her sweet.

The sweet filling dribbled over her lips, and she licked them, smiling in contentment.

Beside her, Clara lounged with practiced elegance.

Her petal-embroidered white-white robe was the second skin that hugged her voluptuous body.

Her full, E-cup breasts were accentuated by the cinching of the white sash, just above her slowly curving hips.

Her long purple hair fell in silky waves past her shoulders.

Her little purple eyes sparkled as she grinned mischievously as always.

Her hand strayed towards another cookie as she stretched across the table, her fingers lightly grazing Anna’s.

Rias, meanwhile, sat just as quietly across the table.

Her red layered silk robe was bound at the waist by a black sash.

The dragon embroidered on the hem appeared to be floating in the gentle lamplight.

Giving her an ethereal, almost untouchable quality.

Her red hair looked like a flowing river of fire.

Her red eyes, dead and cold, would soften only when they saw Victor.

She ate deliberately, piece by piece, her figure poised and calm.

Lane sat close to Victor.

Simple, but pretty is her black robe-soft white fabric trimmed in black thread, it was fairly fitted through the waist.

Her black hair fell over her shoulders.

A strip of dried meat, she took small bites and watched her bright black eyes show her joy.

"There," the man said, leaning forward and pressing her E-cup breasts against the edge of the table again.

Her soft cheeks were flushed with happiness.

Skyla sat on Victor’s other side.

Her green gown similar to Lane’s but more subdued in hue.

Her blonde hair was pulled back behind her shoulders in a simple ponytail.

Her shining green eyes looked warmly at Victor.

She had the slender frame of a woman her D- cup breasts fit.

Whenever their eyes connected, her soft lips drew up to a subtle smile.

But Victor was lost in thought.

He looked at the table with his golden eyes but he was really seeing it.

His half-eaten pastry forgotten in his hand.

His mind was elsewhere-thinking about the war.

The innocent people who might suffer.

The uncertainty of the future.

He didn’t realize that the noise of their conversation had quieted down.

The laughter fading into concerned silence.

Anna had been eating a very sweet pastry and, for a moment, looked at her son.

Her red eyes studied his distant expression.

The slight furrow of his brow.

The restlessness of his fingers tapping against the table.

She placed her pastry on a plate and wiped her lips on a silk napkin.

"Victor, so why are you so silent," Anna demanded.

Her voice was soft, yet curiosity hung in it.

The question got Victor out of his reverie.

Clara, Rias, Skyla and Lane all looked to him simultaneously.

Concern appeared on their faces.

Victor blinked.

That’s when he realized all five women were staring at him.

He looked from face to face, a little blank.

"H-huh? Mother, what did you ask?"

Anna smiled softly.

She looked back at me with a knowing warmth in her gaze.

?Nenne die Gründe warum du so still bist, mein Sohn. Du hast jetzt schon einige Minuten nur den Tisch angestarrt."

Victor glanced down at the table.

He had no idea how long he sat there like that.

"Oh, I was just... Thinking."

He answered equivocally and rubbed his nape.

Clearly he wasn’t being honest with them.

Clara immediately leaned forward.

Her purple eyes sparkled with interest.

"Preparing what, my good nephew? You had a very sober aspect."

Victor glanced at her.

But Clara’s face made it apparent she wasn’t going to stop there.

Skyla nodded as well.

Concern flickered in her green eyes.

"Young Master, is something troubling you?"

Lane reached out and softly laid her hand on Victor’s arm before he could reply.

Her touch was warm and reassuring.

"You can tell us anything, Young Master."

Victor stared at her hand.

Then he raised his eyes again.

Rias hadn’t said a word.

She simply watched him.

Her little red eyes stared quietly at his face and wait for the answer.

Victor fell silent again.

He then looked at them all.

His mother.

His aunt.

His sister-in-law.

His two maids.

And each of them was admiring him in her own way.

Some were openly concerned.

Others were simply curious.

But they were all waiting.

Victor let out a quiet sigh.

She knows.

His gaze settled on Anna.

She always knows when I’ve been thinking about things.

There was a slight smile on his lips.

I suppose that’s what being a mother is all about.

No matter how softly you do something to hide it, she picks up on it.

"Mother," Victor said finally, his voice muted, "I have a question."

Anna’s expression softened.

She extended her hand to him and rested her palm on the table.

"What do you want to know, my dear? You may ask me any questions."