I'm a femboy!?-Chapter 11 - 8: Breakfast.

[ +1 Charm has been added. ] 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Edward sighed, pushing away the voice of the system that whispered in his ears.

It took a few minutes for Emilia to return again.

"Follow me." She gestured to him, making him step out of the room.

He did as told, still uncertain about the day ahead. Somehow, waking up had already been exhausting, and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

They walked down a long corridor lined with tall windows overlooking gardens and courtyards. Morning light made the hallway glow—ornate marble, silver-framed paintings, and chandeliers that probably cost more than his entire apartment building back on Earth. The Myrvale estate was quiet, dignified, and massive in a way that made him feel... small.

"Do not slouch," Emilia said suddenly without looking back.

"I’m not-!"

"You are."

Edward straightened immediately. She didn’t even turn around, but somehow, he could feel her judgmental stare stabbing him in the soul.

"At breakfast, you will speak politely, sit straight, and avoid being an embarrassment."

"I don’t even know the table rules here."

"Then follow my lead."

"Your lead involves head trauma." He mumbled.

"Good. It means you learn."

Edward quietly accepted his fate.

They turned a corner and approached a pair of tall oak doors. Two servants opened them at their approach, revealing an elegant dining hall. The ceiling arched high overhead with crystal lamps hanging in neat rows. A long table stretched across the room, enough to seat thirty people.

But only one man sat at the head.

A familiar face lifted from a cup of tea—eyes warm, expression softening immediately the moment he saw Edward.

"Edward," Duke Myrvale said, voice gentle. "Good morning, son."

Edward froze.

He wasn’t used to that tone. That warmth. That... concerned smile.

Emilia nudged him sharply in the back. He stumbled forward.

"O-Oh. Uh, morning," he said stiffly.

"Come, sit," the Duke said, patting the seat beside him. He didn’t sit at a distance like a noble lord, he wanted Edward close. Just like yesterday.

Edward hesitated before taking the seat, awkwardly folding his hands on his lap. A maid poured him tea, and a plate was placed in front of him—fresh bread, fruits, and eggs glazed with herbs.

The Duke watched him with quiet fondness.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked gently.

Edward blinked. Simple question. Should be easy enough to answer, right?

"I... didn’t die," he said.

The Duke paused. Emilia closed her eyes like she was begging any god for patience.

"...That is... good to hear," the Duke said, smiling a little too softly.

Silence lingered. Edward shifted in his seat.

The Duke reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind Edward’s ear, a tender gesture that froze him like a statue.

"I am glad you are home."

Home.

Edward looked at the man—really looked at him. He had kind eyes, but they were tired. Grief lived somewhere behind them, the kind that never really healed. He really loved the real Edward, didn’t he?

Edward lowered his gaze, throat tight.

He wasn’t this man’s son.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything-

Ding!

[ Mini-Quest: Strengthen Bonds ]

[ Say something affectionate ]

[ Reward: +1 Affection (Duke Myrvale) ]

[ Failure: -3 Affection ]

His heart dropped.

No. No no no no—

The system pulsed.

Before he could think, his mouth moved on its own.

"...Papa."

The Duke froze.

Emilia dropped a fork.

Edward wanted to throw himself out the window.

WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST SAY-

The Duke trembled, then broke into a radiant, teary smile as if the world had just been restored.

"My son," he whispered, voice emotional.

’Kill me. I want death. Immediate death.’