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"...We apologize if we could not entertain you," one girl had said as quietly as possible, glancing to a table with a woman glaring back at her. The same goes with three of the girls, Lizzie assumed were their mothers.
"I can ride a Belcan horse," Graciebelle blurted to break the awkward atmosphere.
"...Good for you?" Lizzie rode her attempt.
"Mother said I'm the fastest... more than the boys."
"According to research, female Belcan horses are the fastest after giving birth," Luppe on her left added to salvage the atmosphere.
"...That's fascinating."
However, the atmosphere is still dead.
With that simple exchange, the weight of hierarchy haunted not just Lizzie, but the young girls whom their parents had great expectations of befriending a Norvillon.
And somehow, Lizzie felt more isolated. She glanced at the Duke quiet with his food. Garth and Erdan were listening to older nobles. But when Erdan talked, few paused, nodded, and forced a laugh.
It's the same for them too.
So Lizzie smiled at the girls just to ease their burdens. Pretension goes both ways. "Can I call you Ebigail?" She asked the palest girl on the verge of crying, and the same question for the others. "You can call me Lizzie."
Their faces brightened and the conversation flowed as smoothly as the whipped cream in her mouth. Tea parties came up and promises of invitation were exchanged.
"By the way, Lady Rosalia isn't here. She's usually present..." one girl could not finish her sentence and clamped her mouth.
Based on a few who would look away and the subject of her previous tutor was quickly changed. The rumors of Lady Davitt's temporary withdrawal from the noble society already spread and by now different speculations have been made.
In an attempt to change the topic, they talked about their favorite lessons. "Imperial History of the Alexander Calendar," was Lizzie's answer.
Aside from her seatmates "Oh..." there was a short gap of silence, then concealed with praises. "As expected of Lizzie," they said. "You also excel in academics."
She understood their hesitation. Aristocratic women were only taught how to read, write and basic arithmetic to manage the household. Other than that, their education was focused on etiquette, dances, and art.
Lizzie, although a liar for necessity, does not wish to color herself to blend in. She's interested in history, especially with the current emperor's achievements as to understand and hopefully grasp the hows and whys in the change of events that affected her own life.
"Surely His Grace is glad to have a brilliant daughter like you."
Glad, my foot. "The Duke said I draw well too." Well, he called it 'tolerable' and kept it on his desk. "The Duke also said I can read well." Well, this is true, after I read how he called the emperor an idiot.
"The... Duke?" Ebigail was the one to voice the other girl's confusion. "Don't you call him 'Father'?"
They wouldn't get her anyway. Calling him 'father' or Erdan and Garth by endearment was a hurdle for her, who was probably just a fleeting existence. In the first place, she was meant to die. "But the Duke is the Duke, right? It's the same."
Nobody responded to her cheerful answer, instead gaped at someone behind her. Lizzie looked up and almost froze at the chilling eyes. Aren't you pleased? In the first place, she never heard 'daughter' from him.
'This thing', 'it' and 'that woman's daughter' were much more abundant.
Lizzie was much kinder for calling him by his title and nothing else.
But why did he loom above her like a reaper about to slash her soul in half? "Duke~ Duke!" Lizzie raised her hand as a sign to be carried.
Screw the formalities. Don't scare people with that face and carry me. A short conflict glinted in his eyes and was about to say something but clenched his jaw. "Feliziia, behave yourself."
She froze and pulled her hand back. "Go straight to your room after this."
Then he returned to his table. But why did you come in the first place?
Lizzie, who considered herself a prodigy in acting, had her smile reign despite the awkward atmosphere at the table.
There you have it, girls, even a Norvillon gets embarrassed too.
Ebigail cleared her throat and opened a new topic about her dog. The others joined the conversation and somehow, stopped trying to make her the center of it. Nothing could be gained from a Norvillon without the duke's favor.
Lizzie was already full and couldn't wait to hole up in her room.
Despite the space of the garden, the green fine grass that could be mistaken as a carpet and fresh breeze, she was suffocated.
Some nobles who finished their desserts were now starting to round the tables. The Duke already left.
She was full and there was nothing else to do. Thankfully Garth was treading his way towards her table.
Though the girls were delighted, the boys at the table next to them had a more noticeable reaction.
"The real thing..." one said.
"It's the Laughing Devil," Graciebelle added beside her.
Younger children, especially boys, could not as much pretend like adults. She took the sparkle in their eyes as genuine.
Well, aren't you famous, too?
"It seems like you're fitting in well," he said.
Yeah, sure, whatever. "Lizzie had fun talking to them!" She then pulled his sleeves for him to come close. Garth bent to lend her an ear without as much refinery as he could.
"But Lizzie is tired," she whispered. It was a lie, of course. Aside from fulfilling her part to be introduced, pissing the Duke off for a reason she didn't know aside from her existence, she had nothing else to do in the luncheon.
Garth just then nodded. "I think it's okay to leave now." He helped Lizzie down from her chair. "Excuse us, ladies."
The little girls nodded respectfully with red ears.
Hand in hand, they walked the path back to the Fort, Fay and other maids behind them.
"Was it fun?" Garth asked.
Lizzie shook her head. Reaching her room, she rummaged her trinket box and handed her self-made bracelets with the maids' guidance.
It is a tradition for the ladies to cut a piece of their old handkerchief, bind it to make a bracelet, and give it to their lovers or relatives as good luck during the hunt.
Whoever started the tradition must be bored. Why make an accessory from the faultless handkerchief if one could make the bracelet without sacrifices?
So, after deliberation, she braided fine strands of rope with ends that could be tied and untied together to make a bracelet. Well, it didn't matter if the blue accessory came from an old sword tassel she found in the garrison during her unexpected visit to increase her adorable points.
Fay almost fainted when she found out it would be given to the Duke and her brothers as a gift. Lizzie ignored her suggestion of buying ribbons and glittery strings.
"Garthie, this is for you." She handed him the beat braid bracelet among the three, which objectively were as poorly made as others. She wanted it to be perfect, but her young small hands didn't think so. "This is the best, Silver! Look at this, you are a prodigy at this huh."
You liar. Women had probably given good luck charms to him even if he didn't ask for it.
"Give this to Erdie, and this to Duke, please."
"Why don't you give it to them before the hunt starts later? They would be happy."
She didn't answer and just pulled the bracelets back. Tch. She made it, why'd she have to work so hard to give it to them? "Okay..."
Garth was about to say something but stopped himself. He wore the bracelet that painfully stood out from his refined clothing and left.
She still got two hours before the hunt begins. So she stayed in her room to braid and rebraid the remaining two bracelets.
It looked worse. She lamented at the monstrosity, now with more strands lose and bumpy knots.
It's the thought that counts, she consoled herself. Hopefully, it would appease the Duke for whatever reason of his sour mood.
Yeah, as if it would stop him from feeding me to the monsters if ever.
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