In Mushoku Tensei with an A.I. Chip

The atmosphere around Notos Keep was festive and celebratory. Luke's second birthday to celebrate his ten years of age was a big deal throughout the Milbots region. Against his wishes, notices had been put up in the city to announce Luke's coming-of-age. 

10 years old was the legal limit for a lot of things in the Asura Kingdom.

Even the bells of the local Millis church had been rung in soft, melodious tones as a signal of celebration after a hefty donation courtesy of Valentina. 

Servants had been bustling through the halls of Notos Keep and the city's markets in the past few weeks, and today was no different. The kitchens started operating at midnight to prepare for the lavish feast that would be served throughout the day of festivities.

Polished silver trays of sugared fruits, honeyed pastries and charcuterie boards were already being set up for the welcoming fare, while greeting stations had been prepared at the gates since dawn for early arriving guests to be welcomed by heralds and stewards. 

Selena, his mother, was in her element as she directed an orchestra of servants to prepare for the arrival of their guests. 

There was an expected order of arrival for the noble guests that had accepted Notos Greyrats' invitation. The first to arrive would be the direct vassals under House Notos and minor nobles from other regions to pay respects and homage to the Upper-class nobles hosting the celebration. 

They were then followed by the middle-class nobles from other regions that would arrive roughly mid morning. Still respectful but not overtly so. 

Finally would be the fashionably late appearances made by upper-class nobles and any royals that deigned to accept the invite. 

Noble etiquette. An absolute waste of time and brain cells in Luke's unadulterated opinion, but as an aristocrat who did not yet have the eminence necessary to extricate himself from the pointless system of nobility, it was still in his best interest to at the very least demonstrate the appearance of adherence to the antiquated etiquette of Asuran nobility. 

Thus, it was part of Luke's duties to welcome and greet arriving guests at the grand hall of the Notos Keep. 

His dark, shoulder length auburn hair was partly pulled back in a small knot, held by an ornate heirloom clasp. The front of his hair was carefully swept and combed to the side to subtly reveal the sharp angles of his face and the noble cast of his high cheekbones.

Luke was garbed in a high-collared deep purple elegant tunic emblazoned with the twin black lions of the Notos crest across the chest, partially partially covered by a half cloak of rich red velvet and lined with short white fur. His cloak was embroidered with victorian filigree that had subtle arcane formations woven in. An inconspicuous highlighting of Luke's status as a Fire Saint without being overly gaudy and braggadocious. 

His breeches were black, tailored close, and tucked into polished boots with silver trim. A narrow belt of braided leather and rose gold circled his waist.

This was only the first of three outfits that had been prepared for him for today… 

He spent the morning with his parents by his side, greeting the non-stop stream of guests, each eager to curry favour with him and by extension the Notos family. Even with his superhuman patience and self-restraint, Luke couldn't help the subtle chilling of his genial smile. 

Every one of them recited their practiced empty platitudes and well-wishes while emphasizing their worthless family names, even putting on slight airs in front of what was supposed to be an impressionable and naive child. And he still had to thank them for so graciously attending his birthday celebration. 

The birthday presents they brought with them, however, were all worth a small fortune enough for a commoner to retire without needing to work for the rest of their days. The selection of gifts, however, could stand to be a little more creative. 

They were all presents that were 'carefully selected' to be lavish, meaningful and politically calculated. Custom forged blades were a staple. Daggers with ornate hilts bearing the Notos crest, decorative swords meant to be hung as a mantle piece, or more practical blades designed for battle yet nothing special or unique. 

Another were arcane trinkets and other such memorabilia that they thought would be well-received by a supposed Fire Saint. What would Luke need with a first-edition book of Ice-based Elementary spells autographed by the author when he could author his own that would put it to shame. 

And of course there were the endless introductions by proud parents of their noble daughters who all emulated similarly rehearsed coquettish greetings hoping to catch the eye of a preeminent noble scion that will in time inherit the distinguished house of Notos Greyrat. 

Each of them had been immaculately dressed and groomed, their hair curled into the same fashionable waves, their gowns stitched in the same flattering cuts and trendy design, dyed in seasonal pastels copy and pasted from the same painter's palette. All of them wore the same rehearsed smile, offering a variation of the same script that very quickly became familiar enough Luke could predict what they were going to say before they said it. 

They giggled at the right moments. They tilted their heads just so. They praised his hair, his bearing, his garments—as if he'd spent the morning crafting it like one of their powdered masks.

To Luke, they blurred together like watercolours in the rain - none with a unique voice of their own. 

They were, he realized, all remarkably alike in their ambition and artifice. Pretty, yes. Charming, perhaps. But indistinguishable in the way flowers are when seen from a distance: delicate, lovely, but ultimately replaceable and easily forgotten.

Even so, he put on a bright and charming smile, said the right words and returned their empty platitudes all while musing how dreadful it was to be adored by ghosts in borrowed flesh. 

Despite knowing the necessity of what was just a hollow and vain performative gesture, he was internally furious that this was what occupied his time that could otherwise be better spent on his research. 

The sight of a certain group that was approaching the gates calmed his growing fury. 

Although it was a group that approached him, there was only one figure he recognized amongst their number. 

It was a woman, with long ashen grey hair that reached the back of her waist. A pair of distinctive Beast Race canid ears adorned the top of her head. She had dark skin that contrasted the off-white tunic and fitted trousers that hugged her figure and an eyepatch that covered her right eye. 

A sheathed sword was strapped to a belt around her waist, its dark hilt slightly served with a golden pommel, denoting her role at the banquet as a bodyguard. 

Unlike the gaudy fashion of the nobles around him, her outfit consisted of sharp, clean lines that implied discipline and vigilance - though the unmistakably military silhouette was broken by the constrained bulge of her sizable chest. 

Huh. Grant had described the woman to have a wildness akin to a beast, yet the Black Wolf Sword King Ghislaine Dedoldia looked more like a military officer than a savage swordswoman. 

The leading man with slicked back dark brown hair and white streaks in them, stepped forward.

"Greetings!" The boisterous man began loudly, drawing looks from the others around them already, "You must be Luke! Congratulations on your birthday! I am Sauros Boreas Greyrat, it is nice to meet you."

Luke responded with a perfect noble bow, practiced and repeated seemingly hundreds of times today already, "Thank you for your well wishes, Lord Boreas. Grandfather has spoken of you in great length. It is an honour to welcome you into our home."

Sauros took a moment to take the measure of the young man before him while Pilemon and Selena next to Luke offered their greetings and welcome as well. 

"Lord Sauros, it is good to see you again. Thank you for attending my son's birthday celebration." Pilemon smiled and bowed, not low and not deferential. His greeting had been a touch too casual when addressing an upper-class lord like Sauros. 

Although Sauros was still technically the head of the Boreas house, most of those politically savvy knew he was reduced to a figurehead after his eldest son won the succession battle.

James Boreas Greyrat was now cabinet minister and enjoyed the favour of the prime minister, Darius Silva Ganius. He was the real authority behind House Boreas Greyrat, not the old man still proudly wearing his family crest. 

Pilemon was exactly the kind of man who was strong against the weak, but weak against the strong. 

Sauros' nostrils flared at the subtle slight, but ignored it. 

After that, Philip and Hilda introduced themselves. 

"...and this one is our daughter, Eris Boreas Greyrat." 

"Whoa! Look at that!"

The young girl who stood behind her parents was too distracted by the hustle and bustle of all of the people around her to notice that she was being introduced. It was her first time seeing so many all in one place! And everyone was so well dressed too.

Philip and Hilda only looked embarrassed by their inattentive daughter but let her be.