I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 10: Who Are My Wives? [1]

After crashing the council meeting, putting the old men in their place with a satisfying display of dominance, and indulging in a bit of flirtation with Eleanor as well, I left feeling remarkably satisfied.

Alice shadowed me as I headed toward the dining hall, quiet as a mouse.

Before leaving Eleanor, I’d tasked her with assembling my other six wives for tomorrow’s morning. I could have summoned them immediately, requesting their presence alongside these nobles, but I wanted at least this one day to breathe and sort out my thoughts.

Despite the show off, I still felt a lingering dizziness in my bones from the ritual. My body was still getting used to the sheer amount of solar or whatever energy it could be called, coursing through it.

Plus, I needed to fully integrate Daniel’s memories. While the transition had been surprisingly smooth, merging two lifetimes wasn’t exactly like changing a shirt. But I’d never felt this good before. This confident. The ritual hadn’t just changed my body; it had unlocked something in my mind that I had kept buried under layers of fear.

I reached the dining hall quickly. Through the open doors, I saw my mother and sister already seated.

My eyes automatically went to the head of the table.

Empty.

A pang of pain hit me first. That was my Father’s seat. Even when he wasn’t there, his presence had filled that chair. Seeing it vacant felt strange and painful.

"Oh, brother, you look good," Lenora called out, turning in her chair to grin at me. Her eyes raked over the royal white tunic and the crown, clearly approving of the upgrade.

Mother smiled, warm and relieved. "Come here, Lumiel. We were waiting for you."

"Of course you were waiting for the new King," I teased, striding toward the head of the table.

Lenora rolled her eyes. "Look at him, all arrogant, Mother."

Mother laughed. "He’s not wrong, however."

I reached the head of the table. I placed Hyperion against the heavy oak chair before sitting down. I rested my hands on the armrests, testing the feel of it.

Growing up, this chair had always seemed enormous. Looming. When I sat beside my sister or mother, the empty throne at the head of the table had felt like a judgment. Now however it felt... right. Snug, almost.

"So, how did it go? I hope you didn’t do too much..." Mother asked, passing a basket of warm bread.

"You should have come if you were that curious, Mother. I really expected you to be there to watch these old men sweating," I said, reaching for a roll.

"They must have been shocked. I mean, the old you was terrified to even make eye contact with them," Lenora giggled, tearing into a piece of chicken.

My face twisted slightly.

That was embarrassing. Really embarrassing. I remembered it vividly, lowering my head every time they looked my way, pretending not to hear their scornful whispers, swallowing their insults like bitter medicine because I was too afraid to spit it back in their faces.

"Not anymore, sister," I said, tearing my bread. "I am King now. I am the one deciding. I have the last say."

Servants arrived then, carrying silver platters of roasted meats and steaming vegetables.

Oh...

My attention was immediately snagged by one of them as she leaned in to fill my goblet.

She had long, wavy brown hair, a shade of light copper, a mix shade of brown and red that was really beautiful.

"Your Majesty."

She gave me a smile that was just on the right side of professional but definitely flirtatious one, her blue eyes meeting mine for a lingering second. As she straightened up, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She was around my age and very beautiful.

Had she always been here?

Maybe. Probably, she kinda feel familiar. But the old me had spent so much time staring at his own feet or avoiding eye contact that he’d missed half the world around him. Even during the council earlier, I’d realized I was seeing faces for the first time that I’d likely encountered dozens of times before.

"Lumiel, the plate is below you, not floating in the air," Mother spoke up, amused.

I blinked, shifting my gaze away from the retreating form of the pretty servant to the empty plate in front of me.

Mother chuckled softly at my reaction, while Lenora shot me a knowing grin over the rim of her goblet.

"Caught you," she mouthed.

"Well, she is pretty," I shrugged, admitting it without shame.

The servant girl, still hovering nearby with her pitcher, flinched slightly, caught off guard. She lowered her head quickly to hide her face, but I saw the pleased smile on her lips.

Lenora looked genuinely shocked that I’d said it out loud. "Wow, dear brother? Since when do you just say things like that?"

"You might want to save such praises for your wives, however, Lumiel," Mother said with a laugh.

"My wives," I said, leaning back as I chewed. "Let’s see. I spoke properly to Eleanor today. I’ll admit, I had doubts about Father picking my wives, seven of them, all at once, out of nowhere. It felt excessive. But I think he did an excellent job with Eleanor."

"As you should be," Mother said, reaching over to pinch my cheek affectionately while I tried to swallow a piece of bread. "Your father didn’t choose them on a whim, you know."

"Then please, Mother, enlighten me," I said, rubbing my cheek. "About Eleanor, I assume her intelligence and being the daughter of the wealthiest merchant in the kingdom, with connections spanning half the continent, made her a perfect choice. Though honestly, I’m surprised he managed to secure her hand for me at all."

"You are ignorant, Brother," Lenora piped up, pointing her knife at me. "You are the Heir of the Kingdom. The one destined to inherit the Will of Helios and become the Guardian of the Flame. Of course Eleanor’s father accepted. Who wouldn’t want their daughter married to the sun?"

"That’s not the point, stupid sister," I retorted, pointing my fork back at her. She stuck out her tongue. "Just a week ago, I was incapable. I couldn’t hold a proper conversation without stuttering. There were serious doubts about whether I’d even survive the Ritual. And yet, a man as rich and shrewd as Gabriel Goldwyn handed over his precious only daughter to me?"

It was a massive gamble. Suicidally risky for a businessman. I mean, until this morning, I was presumed dead. That kind of bad bet could ruin a merchant house.

"You think like your father," Mother said softly. "But you are right. Lord Gabriel wouldn’t have taken that risk with just anyone. But he was a close friend of your father’s. They trusted each other. And besides your father personally appreciated Eleanor. I like her too, she is intelligent, kind, and compassionate. If not for politics, we would have wished for Eleanor to be your First Wife and Queen."

So the famous Gabriel Goldwyn handed over his daughter because of friendship? That was some serious loyalty.

That would explain why Eleanor seemed so genuinely loyal to me earlier. It wasn’t just duty; it was a family alliance that went deeper than contracts it seems.

Regardless, my father had definitely made the right call with her. I really liked her. Beyond the stunning beauty, her character was sharp and good. Just one conversation, and I was already hooked.

So now my question was...

"What about the other six?" I asked, looking between Mother and Lenora. "If Eleanor was the ’friendship pick,’ what’s the story behind the rest of my wives?"