A Disastrous Dinner

"Madam Dalia, I have some questions I'd like to ask, if you don't mind," Joseph said.

"Please, go ahead."

"To be frank, we don't know much about the MI7. We only have a general understanding that it's the central intelligence agency of Stormwind. Is that accurate?"

"No problem. Of course, you can get more detailed answers from Agent Jorgen."

"The Council's recognition of the legitimacy of the Night Watch's forces is undoubtedly excellent news for Darkshire. It signifies that we have finally gained trust, something we've built upon through mutual reliance. However, rather audaciously speaking, the essence of what the MI7 represents is precisely 'distrust.' This, I believe, is the inherent nature of all intelligence operations..."

A piece of meat was still being chewed in Elro's mouth, preventing him from interjecting Joseph. He had heard that speaking with one's mouth full was a major breach of table etiquette.

"...So, having the MI7 formally express trust in the Night Watch leaves me perplexed. Brother, don't you agree?"

"Me?... Do I?"

Joseph's gaze remained fixed on Dalia's direction throughout, not wavering even slightly. But Jorgen understood that Joseph could sense him observing. While it might have been reasonable to face such questions, the one to voice them first was the Night Watch's commander—a move that caught Jorgen somewhat off guard. It appeared somewhat impulsive, yet Joseph's remarkable composure did not appear forced. He knew he was attracting attention and seemed willing to bear any consequences that his provocative remarks might entail.

"You can rest assured about this," Dalia said. "Although my title is 'Special Envoy of MI7,' it's merely a personal designation. Receiving direct orders from the Council to carry out this task is entirely legal. Your view of the MI7 is not the focal point here; in reality, I represent the Stormwind Council."

"I understand," Joseph replied.

"Joseph, don't be impolite to our esteemed guest," Elro finally managed to swallow the piece of meat.

"It's all right, Lord Elro," Dalia said. "It's an important duty entrusted to me to address any doubts. We have taken into consideration Mr. Joseph's concerns."

"So, how well do you both know my father?" Joseph asked, glancing briefly at Jorgen after speaking.

"Allow me to offer a personal perspective; it doesn't represent the MI7's opinion of your father," Jorgen said. "According to written records, he was a highly skilled and resourceful warrior. Loyal to the kingdom, he's now a pillar of strength for the Night Watch. From every aspect, he is admirable."

"Just that?"

"There are many aspects of your father's life that haven't been fully documented. This task will require your assistance in the future."

"I always thought that since the MI7 excels in intelligence work, you would know more. My father's admirable qualities go far beyond what you've mentioned."

"Joseph," Elro hastily curtailed his syllables.

"If I have offended both of you, I apologize," Joseph said.

"Regarding your father's matter, it will undoubtedly receive fair treatment, and the Council is currently studying it. I apologize for not having much knowledge in this regard," Dalia said.

"So... what you're saying is, you know that my father remains a pillar of strength for the Night Watch, but at this significant moment when the Night Watch is about to be legalized, you still lack sufficient understanding of him?" Joseph continued.

"Joseph!" This time, Elro couldn't control his volume. "You are being disrespectful..."

Joseph gave a smile tinged with remorse. "Brother, please calm down. I assure you, I have no intention of making things difficult for both of you. Since Lady Dalia has expressed that addressing questions is her responsibility, I feel at ease in bringing up my concerns."

He tossed the ball back to Dalia. Jorgen couldn't help but think that if Joseph weren't the Night Watch Commander, he could find a decent job in the Council or the courts. His words sounded like a serious and natural discussion, but they teetered on the edge of offense, all while framing any potential slip in his own speech as the other party's fault. However, what truly intrigued Jorgen was why Joseph was so eager to bring his father's issue to the forefront. Though there wasn't much official information, it was undeniable that Gondore, who had spent most of his life as an adventurer, had undoubtedly engaged in illicit activities, which was one of the reasons he obscured his own history. His suicide a year ago was an even more sensitive topic, one that both the Council and the Night Watch avoided discussing. During this special time of legalizing the Night Watch, it would be reasonable and appropriate to set aside Gondore's personal matters. Joseph seemed to be emphasizing something, but offending the MI7 might not be his true intent.

Since this discussion seemed to have the potential to go on indefinitely, Jorgen had initially considered employing a more assertive attitude to halt the conversation, but Dalia spoke first:

"Lord Joseph, I understand your perspective. Your pride for your father is evident, and it's natural to experience emotional fluctuations during such moments. Every person who cherishes their family can comprehend this sentiment. It is precisely for this reason that I personally believe it would be respectful to refrain from prematurely drawing conclusions about Mr. Gondore's life. This approach shows respect for you, the Night Watch, and all the people of Darkshire. The opening lines of the legal provisions regarding the Night Watch's legalization include the phrase 'formally recognizing the Night Watch established by Gondore Everlock as an official military force of the Kingdom of Stormwind.' In fact, by incorporating his name into the law before a thorough understanding of him, the Council is expressing its utmost sincerity. I hope you find this response satisfactory."

"If that's the case... I can understand," Joseph leaned back slightly, glancing at Elro. "Brother, what do you think?"

Elro took a moment to realize that his brother was seeking his opinion. "Um, yes, indeed. Lady Dalia's explanation is quite appropriate, very much so. I have no further questions."

Jorgen noticed that Joseph's offense towards MI7 was just a veiled approach. His real purpose was to hear an acknowledgment of his father. The flattery about his father being "skilled and clever" spoken in a personal capacity by Jorgen earlier didn't work; Joseph needed tangible proof. Dalia sensed this and deftly guided him away from further entanglement.

The one most visibly relieved by the conclusion of this conversation was clearly Elro. His tense demeanor instantly relaxed, and he let go of the table manners he had diligently maintained before. The sounds of chewing and swallowing grew louder. Jorgen saw that he was genuinely hungry and was only now focusing on his food.

At that moment, a servant entered the room, closed the door, and hurriedly approached Elro's side, whispering something in his ear. Elro's brow furrowed, his right hand lowered, and his fork struck the plate with a loud clink. He tried to keep his voice low while speaking to the servant, but almost everyone at the table could hear: "Didn't I ask you to keep an eye on her?"

"But I couldn't... Miss, she's just..." the servant's voice trailed off.

The sudden sound of the door bursting open not only halted their conversation but also drew everyone's attention.

The newcomer was a dark-haired girl of about a dozen years, not tall, dressed like a boy. She spread her right hand, all five fingers splayed, pressing it against the doorframe. She seemed completely oblivious to any impropriety in her entrance and stared wide-eyed at everyone in the room, as if they were the ones who had suddenly barged into her space.

Dalia turned to Elro and asked, "Who is this...?"

"She's our younger sister, Althea," Elro replied with a hint of apology in his tone. "She's fourteen this year. I'm sorry about her appearance..." Elro then addressed the girl, "Althea, mind your manners. We have esteemed guests..."

"So, this is it. A representative from MI7 is here. And you all kept it a secret from me," she said, sliding her hands into her pockets, walking over to Dalia's chair, and turning her head to look at her. "So, you're the special envoy from MI7?"

"Yes, I'm Dalia Shawl. It's a pleasure to meet you, Althea."

"I heard the envoy was a woman, but I thought it might be a lady officer. Ah, what a disappointment."

"You go upstairs right now," Elro almost stood up from his seat.

"But I haven't eaten yet, Elro. It's quite rare to see you wearing a napkin while eating. How improper of me to be surprised," Althea accentuated her words, as if to emphasize her ability to address her elder and town mayor by their names. Having said that, she pulled her right hand across the table and pinched a piece of grilled chicken wing from the central plate, popping it into her mouth.

"How many times have I told you to wash your hands first! No, wait..." Elro realized he was focusing on the wrong issue. "In any case, you are terribly impolite! Someone, please take her upstairs!"

A servant stepped toward Althea, but she glared at him and he halted. Chewing on the chicken, she suddenly furrowed her brow, straightened her mouth, and said, "It's too spicy, how can you all eat this?" Then, she used her tongue to push a small piece of partially eaten chicken bone to the corner of her mouth.

"If you dare spit it on the floor," Elro said, "I'll deal with you properly. I swear this time I'll follow through."

"I never said I was going to do that, what's with your nerves," she pinched the small piece of bone between two fingers and then whistled. The scrappy mutt that Jorgen had seen during the day came darting in from the door.

"Pick, come here," Althea tossed the bone fragment forward, and the dog snapped it up, breaking it in half, with one part falling onto the carpet.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Elro removed his napkin and stood up, staring at the ground. He was about to leave his seat when Dalia spoke up, "It's okay, Lord Elro. I did mention from the start that I'm not here to be a judge, and I'm quite interested in getting to know your family, so there's no need to be angry with Miss Althea. Please, have a seat."

"Oh, is that so? You want to get to know us?" Althea said.

"Yes. For instance, I'm curious if Pick is your pet. I saw it earlier when I arrived in Darkshire. It seems to listen to you quite well."

"Of course, even though I'm not the one raising it, it only listens to me. Pick, come greet Miss Dalia."

Pick held onto the remaining bone and turned around, lifting its upper body, and pouncing on the side of Dalia's dress, leaving three black scratches on the fabric. Simultaneously, the whole room heard Elro suddenly standing up, the sound of his chair toppling over. He rolled up his sleeves and walked toward Althea, but the girl turned and ran out of the room, Pick following suit. Before disappearing through the door, she turned her head and declared in a announcing tone:

"I hate MI7, you all killed my dad."

Elro didn't catch up with her in the end. He just walked back quickly after leaving the room because apologizing to Dalia was the more pressing matter. First, there was Joseph's provocative speech, then Althea's antics. A catastrophic dinner ended like this, with Elro's forehead beaded with sweat. He suggested that Dalia leave her dress for proper mending, only realizing the inappropriateness of his suggestion afterward. In the end, there was nothing more he could do but say sorry. Throughout the entire incident, Joseph remained aloof and unconcerned, indicating that he had grown accustomed to such scenes.

When Jorgen and the guards saw Dalia off, he glanced back at Elro standing by the doorway. Rather than resembling a mayor, he looked more like a banker who had just experienced bankruptcy, his expression filled with helplessness and dissatisfaction with himself. After instructing the guards to escort Dalia away, Jorgen turned back to Elro.

"Is there anything else, Lord Jorgen?"

"Nothing much, just wanted to let you know not to worry about it. Dalia isn't the type to be offended by such things, she's not a lady confined to the tearoom."

"The more you say that, the more guilty I feel. Sigh, my younger brother and sister... They are the ones in Darkshire who idolize our father the most. During these years of hard work as a Watchman, I was away studying political affairs. It was Joseph and Althea who accompanied him. For things to turn out like this, it's probably a sign of my incompetence as a mayor..."

"No matter how your family affairs have unfolded, we all know that you manage Darkshire well. And I'll emphasize again, Dalia is not here to be a judge. She'll only do so if the other party demands it, so rest assured. That's all."

"Very well, until tomorrow then, Lord Jorgen. If there's anything lacking in terms of accommodation arrangements, please inform me immediately."

After Jorgen left, Elro let out a sigh and returned inside. In the hallway, he encountered the secretary who had also attended the dinner.

"What, you're still here?" Elro said.

"Mayor, you just let them go like that?"

"With the situation being so embarrassing, how could I possibly have the audacity to let them stay overnight here?"

"No, what I mean is... that letter, are you planning to keep it hidden like this?"

"For now, there's no other option. Don't meddle in this any further, just pray that nothing unfortunate happens. Stop talking about it, I'm getting a headache again... I need to remind Joseph to have his men strengthen patrols..."

The secretary watched Elro as he walked away, clearly concerned about the implications of the hidden letter.