The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 45

The very next day, Lysian selected tutors to educate Aslan. Aslan’s previously free-spirited schedule was now packed with lessons.

“This is Count Mugue, who will be in charge of table manners. Over here is Baroness Margaret, who will teach you dance. And this is Royal Historian Rosebay, who will teach you the history of Florea…”

The head servant, Dandelion, introduced a long line of people. Despite being prepared, Aslan gulped at the endless stream of people.

He had never felt so intimidated, even when facing an army of a thousand with only fifty soldiers. Although he had spoken confidently in front of Lysian, Aslan was not used to sitting still and following a routine. The thought of having to sit quietly and follow a set pattern filled him with dread.

The first lesson was a disaster.

Of course, they used forks and knives in Heiban, just not this many. Aslan’s eyes spun at the sight of the many utensils laid out before him.

Until now, Aslan had only used a single fork and knife as a Heiban. He only realized now that it was because Lysian had ordered it that way.

Awkward with the various forks, Aslan fumbled throughout the meal. Every time Aslan picked up the wrong fork or knife, Count Mugue, who was in charge of table manners, scolded him.

Aslan was frustrated.

Couldn’t he just finish eating quickly? His head was spinning with all the things he had to pay attention to.

Mugue didn’t give up until Aslan had eaten properly, and it took a long time for the soup to get cold and the meat to toughen.

As soon as Aslan finished his meal and set down his last cup of tea, Count Mugue stormed out of the dining room, furious.

“I’d rather teach a five-year-old! Or maybe even my dog would learn faster!”

Mugue’s outburst echoed through the dining room. Aslan clenched his fists. More than Mugue’s insults, he felt a sense of shame at his own incompetence and respect for Mugue’s patience in teaching him.

The following lessons were no better.

In dance class, he was so focused on not stepping on his partner’s feet that his posture was all wrong. In history class, he kept nodding off. He was so ridiculous that he couldn’t believe he was dozing off in such a critical situation.

Watching Aslan struggle, the head servant, Dandelion, sighed repeatedly. Having always served Lysian with elegance and perfect manners, Dandelion found Aslan to be appalling.

While he had initially been tolerant of Aslan because he was essentially a prisoner, the stark contrast between Aslan and the elegantly dressed, well-mannered people of Florea was now glaring.

‘Why on earth does the queen like him?’

Dandelion’s eyes narrowed. Having served Lysian since she was a child, Dandelion was very fond of her. In some ways, he was even more strict and demanding than Lysian’s mother, the previous queen. Aslan was not someone Dandelion could tolerate. Dandelion’s lips twisted in disapproval.

But knowing that Lysian trusted me with Aslan, I did my best at my job. Of course, it was so daunting that I wondered when I would ever be able to return to Lysian.

Initially, his determination to become a suitable consort had soared, but that determination was shattered within a day.

Aslan returned to his chambers, his body heavy with fatigue. From the moment he opened his eyes in the morning until the sun set, he had been relentlessly subjected to endless lessons.

He could have endured physical exertion for days on end, but his mind felt dull and sluggish, and he was irritated. His fingers itched, and his body twisted. He was exhausted from suppressing the urge to leap out of his chair.

Despite feeling so tired and exhausted, he looked perfectly healthy and alive. He resented his strong body.

He had once scorned the Florean nobles for their pretentiousness, but after enduring this amount of study, he felt they deserved to be a little more pretentious. Suddenly, Aslan found them admirable.

At least he felt there was some unfounded hope that he would improve over time with practice. But another problem was bothering him like a splinter under his nail.

It was the issue of his scent.