When visiting the Nightfellow villa for tea, I took extra care not to draw too much attention to myself. Having said that, going incognito would make me stick out like a sore thumb, so I took the princess carriage there. My driver was the one who had given me the smoothest ride ever to the junior ball—Karl! I just had to request him this time, since I wasn’t able to have him drive us around for the survey.
I took as few guards as possible—just a couple passionate soldiers on horseback to ride alongside the carriage. Once I arrived at the villa, I would have just Klifford by my side.
The question of what kind of security detail a royal would take with her to visit a duke was actually a rather sensitive one. If you took a heavily militarized approach, that made for a rather touchy situation. It was basically advertising, I don’t trust you, bitch. Got it? Wanna fight? Major threatening vibes. Hella toxic.
Meanwhile, if you answered a formal invitation with barely any guards, it was like, I super trust you, bestie! Love you! Hella BFFs.
It varied from noble to noble, of course. For ducal houses, you could basically take the above interpretation, and that was why I visited the Nightfellow villa with the latter model!
Also, given how snippy my father was with Uncle Dearest yesterday, I wanted to project just what a good relationship the royal family and the Nightfellows really had!
“Good afternoon, Princess Octavia. We’ve been expecting you.”
After about a thirty-minute gentle jostle in the carriage, I arrived at the Nightfellow villa, and Derek greeted me with the impeccable manners of a duke-to-be. This was nothing new, however. His manners always left nothing to be desired.
“As I thought, it was you who sent the invitation, Derek.”
I was secretly thrilled that my detective work was right. And by the way…my outfit’s okay, right? I’m kinda worried Derek’s impeccable dukeness is upstaging me.
I lowered my gaze just a little, then looked up again. My left hand was gloved and safe as long as I had a bandage around it, which was a necessity whenever I went out. In my right hand, I held Blackfeather closed.
I was wearing the third dress I’d tried on at Melinda’s shop. It was predominantly red with black mixed in. In style, it resembled the one I wore to the junior ball. Melinda finished the alterations early and it was delivered first thing this morning! And since I didn’t have to leave for tea until the afternoon, I tried it on then and there. It was a perfect fit! I had bought it to wear as an everyday dress, but even as an outing dress, it did not disappoint!
I also got Sasha’s seal of approval.
“Your ensemble is perfect as the goddess of wrevens herself!” she said.
……Wait, huh? Now I’m starting to think that wasn’t a compliment…
I snapped Blackfeather open for an emotional reset.
“Well, to be honest, our relationship is a bit odd, Princess. Surely people would talk, and I wanted to avoid that,” Derek explained.
And yeah, I could see his point… Me visiting him on my own without my brother was a little sus. I could definitely imagine tongues wagging. Since Sirius was there when I received the invitation, he wouldn’t think anything of it, but anyone other than him would surely let their imaginations run wild.
“I asked my mother to—” Derek blinked and cut himself off. His brown eyes shifted to where Klifford was standing, a few feet away. “……At the junior ball…”
Hmm? The junior ball, what?
“…you said you would give Alderton a tassel for his sword…and I see you’ve done just that.” Derek smiled lightly—his nobleman’s smile.
I always thought Derek didn’t feel any creep factor regarding Blackfeather, so I assumed he wouldn’t feel uneasy about the wreven feather tassel, but maybe I was wrong? Derek was an expert swordsman, after all. Maybe he felt that putting wreven feathers on a sword was another matter entirely, or something like that?
I tended to forget just how unlucky wrevens were considered. Having a man who made a living off fighting affix wreven feathers to his sword was basically like happily putting one of your feet in a bucket before a battle. But you see, by making a point to use wreven feathers, you could say that death is on your side on the battlefield! And Klifford seems cool with it, besides. Take that, superstition!
“Why, yes. Was there ever any doubt?”
Derek shook his head.
“No, I didn’t exactly doubt you…” His polite smile vanished. “I’m just…surprised, I guess,” he muttered, scratching his cheek.
“Derek! Why are you making Her Highness stand outside?!”
A voice rang from the villa entrance and out appeared a lone noblewoman. She wore an elegant purple dress—it was Lady Lucinda, Uncle Dearest’s wife! As Derek’s mother, she had brown hair and eyes just like his.
Derek sighed softly. “My mother has prepared a simple tea. Would you care to join us?” Then he suddenly slipped into escort mode. “Your hand, my lady. Let me take you there.”
When I saw his extended left hand, I hesitated for a moment. He really didn’t have to go that far on my behalf…but I guess it was one of those social graces a true host owes his guest. In Esfia, it doesn’t matter which hand you offer, but he was offering his left instead of his right because my left hand was wounded. He was taking care not to hurt me.
Funny, seeing how up until very recently, the very idea of Derek escorting me like a perfect gentlemen seemed ludicrous.
I gave him my right hand, Blackfeather and all, and with a quick glance behind me, Derek smiled.
I walked the familiar halls of the villa on Derek’s arm. I used to come here often. And as we walked, it became clear to me that my memories of the place were not at all rusty.
As a ducal family, the Nightfellows had money and power, but their villa in the royal capital was surprisingly quaint in design and size. The walk from the property line to the house itself was short, but aesthetically, the garden was the best or second-best in the land. Though the house itself was not necessarily gorgeous to look at, it only contained items worthy of a ducal family.
The adjoining lands that housed the Nightfellow private army were also quite vast. The house itself may be quaint, but when you took the land in its entirety into account, that was another matter entirely.
There was a spot in the villa with a great view of the training grounds—the perfect nook for some BL fantasizing. The other bonus was in the summer, when the men trained shirtless and you got to admire some abs.
As I reminisced about those summer days, we arrived at the location of our little tea party—the villa courtyard. Unlike the other gardens on the property, this garden was inside the house proper. Inside a gazebo adorned with stained glass, Lucinda was waiting for us.
She was seated with someone else I recognized. The other guest was about twelve years old, with fluffy silver locks and green eyes. It was the girl I’d met at the Sky Chamber.
So Uncle Dearest took her in then and there…back to the Nightfellow villa for safekeeping. She’s blind, I think. She seemed scared back at the Sky Chamber…and she hadn’t looked too well, but now she looks quite calm and healthy. Does she know her Adjutant, Emilio, was captured…?
Perhaps he wasn’t much of a substitute, but at the moment, she was being assisted by the redheaded young man Steyn. He was positioned so he could assist her at the drop of a hat. From the look of it, he was waiting on her, too.
“Mother…I hate to tell you, but Steyn makes a horrible bodyguard.”
Two empty chairs waited for us. Derek pulled out one for me as he groaned and then threw his mother that remark.
“It doesn’t matter, because he isn’t acting as a bodyguard. Besides, Her Highness is here. Save your complaints for later.”
“Yes, yes. A little too late for that, I’m afraid.”
After I sat down, Derek was the last to lower himself into his seat. Klifford was on standby diagonally behind me. Taking that as a signal, Lucinda broke the ice.
“Welcome to our home, Princess Octavia. Do forgive the sudden invitation. Truly, I hope we didn’t offend? My husband and son both lie to me all the time, so I don’t trust them.”
“Hey, don’t lump me in with Father.”
Lucinda was the same age as Uncle Dearest. She was an elegant lady with her hair up—and it need not be said she was also a beauty. She had an air of sophistication, yet she was gentle. Neither was she pompous—but it was a well-known fact that she could be tough as nails when needed.
“Oh, it was no lie, your grace. I was the one who broached the subject of a visit with Derek to begin with.”
“Well! Then I suppose I shall trust his word. Now, Your Highness, I hope you and I can have a nice chat. Since the invitation was sent in my name, I do wish to give you a warm welcome. I’ve prepared tea and sweets for us all. I hope you like them.”
Steyn proceeded to pour tea into our cups, and on the table was a spread of goodies just begging to be eaten.
Oooh! It’s the villa’s personal chef’s specialty, eba! I looked forward to it every time I came, since it could only be eaten at the Nightfellow villa. Every time eba is presented at the table, I’m always the one who finishes it! Eba are so profound, there’s a variety of delicate flavors one can achieve with variations in the recipe. They even had some working-class favorites, too—it was obvious they chose the menu to suit my tastes.
Lucinda was friends with my mother, so she knew most of my favorite foods. Having said that, whenever I visited my mother…I always took full advantage and requested all my favorite foods! All the best working-class cuisine Esfia had to offer! I made my mother sick of the stuff. Anyway, Lucinda had come to visit my mother on one of those occasions.