I couldn’t tell what was causing the exhausted look on his face—it could have been because his efforts had ended up being in vain, it could have been because of the radicals currently holding a grudge against him, or it might even have been because I had made such a strange sound.
Once Patrick and the group had passed each other, the other radicals fell back into formation, putting me back at the lead of the column.
We finally entered the audience chamber. I wonder if there are assigned seats or, rather, an assigned order to line up in. I’m sure those who regularly attend have designated spots, but I’m an irregular member, so... Technically, every aristocrat was allowed to participate, so there should be spots for even the provincial aristocrats.
As soon as I entered the chamber, I spoke to the official standing there. “Where do I go?”
“C-Countess Dolkness, you, um...”
“Please tell me where someone who’s just a count should be.”
“Since you are a provincial aristocrat without a designated court position...you are in the very back...” He blanched and then tried to backpedal. “Oh, and that is just in terms of being a participant of this conference; it does not mean that the officers of the Royal Palace aren’t taking you seriously... I-I’ll try speaking to my superiors!” The man was about to run away, but I grabbed his shoulders and brought him to a halt.
I just asked where I should stand, since I know aristocrats care about seating and things like that. I remember Daemon racking his brain over the seating chart for the wedding.
“I don’t mind being in the designated area. I’m letting you know that I’m fine with it,” I assured him.
“Of course! Understood,” he stammered.
Things are settled for now... Not. Those claiming to be part of my faction immediately dogpiled on the hapless official.
“You’re saying that Countess Dolkness belongs in the very back?!”
“Are you saying she’s no different from those who are mere provincial aristocrats?!”
Please stop. These kinds of things are going to bring down my image. The very back is the best place to be—I’ll finally get away from you all, and I won’t stand out.
I turned to the radicals. “Please stop. Today is the only day that I’ll be participating from the furthest row.” It’s just for today. Today is the only day I’ll be in the furthest row, because I’m never participating in this again, no matter what row I’m in.
Though I spoke the truth, the radicals took that to mean that I would be in the front row after today, and their eyes glimmered with hope as they let the official go. You guys really are easy to manipulate. Now I can get away.
I was guided to my designated spot. The front row was reserved for heavyweights like the marquess (who hadn’t arrived yet). After him was the margrave (who wasn’t usually in attendance anyway), followed by an annoying set of rules that governed which central aristocrat would stand where, based on a complicated calculus that took into account their rank and position. At the very back were provincial aristocrats, who lined up in order of their ranks only.
I had thought I could relax for a moment now that I was in the back row, but I still had noisy people around me.
“I can’t believe they would treat Lady Yumiella like any old provincial aristocrat.”
“The order of precedence might completely flip around during next month’s conference.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful. It’d be quite the sight to see us and the marquesses switch places.”
Right, they’ve all become radicals because they can’t get important court positions. Of course they’re in the back. Maybe the front would’ve been better, I thought regretfully as I waited for time to pass. There were no chairs, which meant that we all just stood around. Once the king arrived, I knew we would all have to get on our knees.
Seeing how empty the front rows were, I figured that the bigwigs were off in a waiting room somewhere until it got close to the starting time of the conference. Actually, we’re the only aristocrats here. The radicals aren’t treated very warmly.
“Until recently we used to enjoy our time waiting for things to get started while having tea with Hill—I mean, with a certain person, but things aren’t so nice these days...” grumbled someone near me.
I felt bad for Duke Hillrose having to socialize with these people on top of dealing with them politically.
I didn’t want to participate in this game of catch masquerading as a conversation, so I kept every ball thrown to me and maintained my silence. I ranked my favorite stew ingredients in my mind, and time dragged on. Once I got to number eight, onions, there was movement at the front of the hall.
One after another, aristocrats began to gather in the audience chamber. Count Archiam was there as well. Our eyes met, but we didn’t say anything to each other as he moved to a place in front of me and a little to the side. Ah, so your position is near the back too.
Tensions were rising, and the long-awaited Marquess Prynan finally arrived. He glanced over at me very briefly before looking away. Now that all the central aristocrats had arrived, the court conference began.
“Please kneel for His Majesty’s arrival!” cried a court official.
As one, the assembled crowd kneeled down and bowed their heads. I wasn’t sure about what I was supposed to do, so I watched those around me before I moved into position, trying not to lag noticeably behind. So this is why long gowns with voluminous skirts are a good choice for this sort of thing, I thought as I went to my knees and inclined my head.