10. The Banquet

With our room tidied and our tea set out before us, the frenzy of our arrival had finally died down.

I felt a little guilty about sitting there sipping at my tea while the maids slaved away. As much as I wished I could have helped them, however, I wasn’t about to jump in with Mr. Fisalis there. I may have gotten his blessing to do the chores, but it still didn’t seem like a great idea to do them right in front of him.

Though I’d just been talking about taking a nap, between the hustle-bustle of the luggage’s delayed arrival and the maids explaining the whole incident, the time had gotten away from me. I wanted nothing more in that moment than a chance to lie down—I still felt dizzy from spending half a day getting knocked around in a carriage, no matter how slow we’d taken the journey—but it was already time to start getting ready for dinner.

I had to change clothes, put on my special effects makeup... Yep, this was going to take a while.

“It’d be wishful thinking to figure we can retire after dinner, huh?”

“Probably. I’d expect there to be some sort of tea party afterwards.”

“Looks like we’re in for a long night.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Everyone’s already had a long day, after all, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we wrap up early.”

“Then I’ll be the first to call it a night! Oh, but far be it from me to keep you from sticking around.”

“No, I’d rather head back with you. Don’t you dare leave me behind!”

“If you insist.”

Mr. Fisalis isn’t the biggest fan of socializing himself, so the two of us might as well make a quick exit!

* * *

Though they got there even later than we did, Mother and Father Fisalis eventually made it to the villa safe and sound. We invited them to come with us to the dinner venue—the banquet hall, to be more specific.

“And the weather had been so nice in Le Pied too! The closer we got to the villa, the stormier it got. It certainly took us by surprise.”

“Oh no! That must have been rough.”

According to Mother Fisalis, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky over Le Pied. It just went to show just how much the weather could change depending on where you were.

Mr. Fisalis and his father were walking a few steps ahead of us, discussing recent events over at the manor.

“It’s been storming in Rohze since yesterday.”

“I see. I suppose that makes sense—this villa is closer to you than to us. Speaking of which, how have things been over there lately?”

“Fine. I already informed you that Bellis and Mimosa finally had their child, and that Rohtas adopted a son...”

By the time we arrived at the banquet hall, nearly all of the guests were in their seats. Shoot, are we the last ones to get here?! Then again, nobody in the entire Flür Kingdom outranks the Fisalis family, so I guess it doesn’t matter if we are.

After greeting all those who had arrived ahead of us, we were escorted to our seats—at the head of the table, even!

Now that everyone was here, the food was promptly carried out to the table. It was like they’d been hanging back just waiting for us to take a seat.

The soup laid out before me smelled amazing. I bet it’s going to be delici— Hold on!

Oh no, that’s right! Everything on the menu is going to be premium cuisine! I almost forgot.

Now don’t get me wrong—I’d stopped getting fancy food poisoning the way I used to. With all the wonderful food I’d been eating day in and day out, both my tongue and my stomach had learned to adjust. The problem was that it was still too much. If I had to eat all this, I was going to burst. Even back at the mansion, I was still asking for half-sized portions.

Oh man, I forgot my stomach medicine. What’s a girl to do? And to make matters worse, I was already feeling carriage-sick.

Tonight was a sit-down dinner, so I couldn’t portion control the way I did during buffets. And this was going to be a full-course meal, to boot! No way I could eat all that!

When he noticed the way I was staring down at my soup with dread, Mr. Fisalis leaned over and whispered into my ear: “Don’t worry. Just eat whatever you can manage.”

Despite feeling like a jerk for leaving chunks of food untouched, I managed to make it through dessert in one piece. Not today, gastrointestinal terrorism!

If my mother could see me now, she’d be absolutely livid. Am I going to get a visit from the jolly green giant tonight? Gulp.

* * *

After the banquet, we moved elsewhere and dove straight into a tea party. Everyone was doing their own thing—some were enjoying an after-dinner cup of tea, some were indulging in a stiff drink, and still others were engaging in friendly conversation or playing a game of cards.

For my part, I was having tea with Miss Verbena; Miss Iris; Miss Amaranth, the daughter of Marquis Nastersham; Miss Peony, the daughter of Earl Columbine; and Miss Sati, the daughter of Earl Krokusse. Indeed—the entire Soirée Quartet was present and accounted for.

Miss Iris and Miss Amaranth were both the daughters of a marquis, while Miss Peony and Miss Sati had been invited thanks to their fathers’ work connections.

Their party attendance rate sure was as high as ever.

I’d been on a first name basis with the group ever since they’d urged me, “We want to call you ‘Vi’! And you should call us by our first names too!” It was only just recently, however, that it had started to feel natural. Using first names certainly goes a long way toward bridging the gap between people! It seemed that Miss Verbena wanted to call me “Vi” herself, but for whatever reason, she chose to watch the others enviously instead of just going for it. And here I would’ve loved to hear her say it.

Mr. Fisalis was having a friendly chat over drinks with Celosia and a few other gentlemen. The circle of young men seemed to be having the time of their lives.

My husband shot me a wink when he noticed me glancing his way, and I returned it with a small wave of my hand.

“The invitees were permitted to bring their unmarried sons or daughters,” Miss Verbena commented with a sigh when she saw what I was looking at.

“That’s a rather specific stipulation,” I replied, a blank look on my face. I wasn’t quite registering what the point of that would be.

Since we received a separate invitation from my husband’s parents, I suppose we count as a special case? Does that mean that if Father and Mother Fisalis had been the only ones to get the invite, we (or rather, Mr. Fisalis) wouldn’t have been allowed to come?

I did my best to puzzle out the purpose of that restriction, only to have my questions answered when Miss Verbena whined, “That father of mine is back on my case about finding myself a good man! He’s setting me up, I tell you!”

“Ohh...”

Huh, so this was a matchmaking party disguised as a housewarming all along. Duke Argenteia sure doesn’t know when to quit.

“Now, now. If your father insists on throwing parties for you, the rest of us are more than happy to take advantage!” said Miss Iris, giving a bright, elegant laugh in the face of Miss Verbena’s fuming.

Fair enough. Leave it to the Husband Hunters to pounce on any opportunity they see.

“All I want is to meet a man as wonderful as Vi’s some day.”

“There, there, Miss Sati.”

“If only. Men like that don’t exactly grow on trees.”

“Don’t put it like that, Miss Peony! You never know where you might find the perfect match!”

I did my best to reassure my crestfallen friends.

I was the only married woman at the table. What made matters worse was that I hadn’t set out to find my soul mate or anything—I’d stumbled into happiness by sheer luck. The guilt was eating away at me.

“I’m done fussing over ‘the perfect man’ or ‘a guy who ticks all the boxes.’ As long as he’s decently good-looking, decently well-off, and has decently high standing, you won’t hear a complaint out of me!” declared Miss Iris, balling her hands into fists. Was it just me, or was that still a pretty tall order?

“If only the right guy would just fall into my lap,” said Miss Verbena beside her, the picture of someone who had already given up.

I don’t think you want anyone falling into your lap—that sounds highly inappropriate! Oh, what do I do? The mood just keeps getting worse and worse!

Yikes, this calls for a subject change.

“B-By the way, Miss Verbena! We struck out with the weather today, but I heard it’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow. I’d love it if you could show me around your beautiful villa.” I brought up the tour, clapping my hands together as though the thought had just occurred to me.

“Oh, that’s right! Of course—it would be my pleasure! We’re planning to hold a tea party in the garden too,” she replied, her face lighting up instantly. Operation Subject Change was a success.

“That sounds like fun!”

“I can’t wait to get a look at your lovely garden!”

“I’m looking forward to the tea party part too.”

“Will anyone else be joining us?”

“Yes, we’ve invited the rest of the girls as well. How many were there, again?”

Miss Verbena gave a quick look around the dance floor and started counting up people. There seemed to be around ten young (meaning marriageable) ladies in total. The fact that there were a lot more single men here than women spoke to Duke Argenteia’s consideration for his daughter. (“I didn’t ask for any of this!” —Verbena)

When I followed Miss Verbena’s gaze around the venue, I spotted a handful of young noblewomen looking over at us and whispering to each other. Were we being too loud?

Just as I was thinking that I ought to bring my volume down a few notches, Miss Iris broke into a mischievous grin. “The other girls keep glancing our way hoping for a chance to get closer to you, Vi.”

Huh?! They want to be friends with a plain Jane like me? No way.

But hey, new friends are always welcome in my book! No need to keep such a distance, girls—I don’t bite! Should I go up to them and ask them to join us? Eh, nope—that’s not happening! I’m not extroverted enough for that!

“What a shame for them that we’re keeping you surrounded like this,” remarked Miss Verbena, smirking. “At this rate, tomorrow’s tea party is going to be a fight for the seat next to Miss Viola!”

“For sure!” the rest of the girls chimed in.

“Uh, I don’t know about that one...”

I responded to their obvious flattery with a shake of my head, only for Miss Amaranth to shoot down my protests. “Well, I do!”

“Okay. Sure.”

If you say so. I mean, c’mon...they’ve got to be more concerned about spending their time with a nice young man than with me.

I was still having a hard time buying this whole scenario, and my lips twisted into a pout. That was when Miss Iris leaned over and whispered in a voice only I could hear: “Those girls ordered themselves imitations of your jewelry, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Take a look.”

When I followed Miss Iris’s gaze, I saw that the ladies facing our way had an oddly familiar accessory draped around their necks.

Oh, it’s exactly the same as the necklace I have.

I forgot what party I’d worn it to, but I remembered that design. It’d be hard not to—these days, I was promoting our Viola Sapphires every chance I got. Business was booming, in case you were wondering☆

Every accessory I wore was an original work from our jeweler, so it was impossible to get your hands on the exact same product unless you commissioned a copy for yourself. Interesting. So their necklaces had more than just a sapphire in common with mine—they’d replicated every detail, right down to the design.

“Your go-to jeweler claimed that he’s been getting a flood of orders for necklaces just like yours,” Miss Verbena jumped in.

“Oh, wow... Thanks for your purchase?”

“From the sound of it, it’s especially popular with the younger set.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“The value of the gem certainly doesn’t hurt, but I hear some girls have been praying that wearing it might bless them with a catch as good as the one you landed.”

“Huh?!”

How long have they been praying like that?! If you go looking for a “catch” like mine, you’re going to wind up in a contract marriage... Oh, whoopsie! That’s supposed to be a secret.

“I suppose I can’t blame them. It’s easy to see why they’d want a perfect imitation of everything you have.”

“Still, fashion is all about expressing yourself by putting your own spin on things!”

The critique of the other girls’ necklaces seemed to be turning into a debate on advanced fashion techniques. Huh? What did I think, you ask? I always leave it up to my maids to dress me, duh.

“I fought down my desire to match Vi and changed up the design. I plan to wear mine to tomorrow’s dinner party,” said Miss Iris with a smile.

“Oh, me too.”

“Same here.”

What a surprise—the rest of the girls chimed in one after the other.

“Seriously?! Every single one of you?!”

It seemed Miss Verbena, Miss Iris, and the entire Soirée Quartet had all bought their own version of my necklace who-knows-when. Heavens be praised...or something!