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Peter hurried and joined Lancelot by his side, as they walked to a far end of the throne room where a fancy banquet table stood. Eight chairs were arranged around the round glass table and delicious meals of all kinds, exotic desserts of cakes and pies, and expensive wine decorated the table top.

"We do hope you enjoy the traditional Spanish meal. Spanish wines aren't the best in the world for no reason. That, I can assure you."

Isabelle spoke, she turned the a maid standing by the table and flashed a smile.

"Are my daughters coming down for dinner?"

The lady bowed her head as she spoke.

"No, my queen. They had theirs some minutes ago, in their Chambers."

"Together?" Isabelle asked again, fixing her eyes on a piece of blueberry pie in one of the plates.

"Yes, my queen."

"I see."

The maid walked to her front and drew out the chair she was currently looking at.

"Well, I guess my daughters won't be joining us after all. I am terribly sorry, your highness." She bowed to Lancelot
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