The tea party arrived in less than a week. Milly hadn’t lifted a finger toward preparing for the event since the previous council meeting, but plenty of work had clearly gone on.
At ten o’clock on the day itself, the grounds bustled with staff rushing to finish the setup. When Milly arrived early to survey the venue in the courtyard, Gilbert, at her side, widened his eyes at the sight.
“They managed all this in just two days? What an incredible display.” His gaze swept over the spectacle: row upon row of glittering decorations, so lavish it was hard to believe this was merely a school event.
Milly had to nod in agreement. “It really is. Almost a shame it’ll all be over in a single day.”
Everywhere sparkled. Seeing it, Milly understood why the students grew excited about this every year, regretting skipping out on the tea parties during her three years before the rewind.
Behind them, Lucius trudged along, looking like he hadn’t slept. “Ha, of course you think it’s marvelous. The reason it looks so splendid is because the knight cadets worked to the bone hauling it all together!”
“Why do you sound so put out, Lucius?”
“Because I got dragged into it as their overseer, and it was a nightmare! Never again!” Lucius, still looking thoroughly exhausted, didn’t bother to hide his irritation.
Milly gave him a sidelong look. “Oh? You, in charge? I suppose we should be grateful none of the teapots ended up laced with poison.”
“Honestly, I almost slipped something into His Highness’s teapot myself. Maybe a little brew to make cat ears sprout. Shame I wasn’t allowed near the tea set,” Lucius muttered.
“Tell me you’re joking,” Gilbert said flatly, fixing him a flat stare, before adding to Milly, “Don’t encourage him.”
Lucius’s deadpan tone suggested he wasn’t entirely joking. If nothing else, it made clear just how much of a headache the setup had been. Still, it said plenty that someone so young was trusted with wrangling a troop of fresh knights. He wouldn’t have been given the role had his talent not been recognized. Quietly, Milly adjusted her estimation of him upward.
“Lady Milly.”
The call drew her attention. Nicholas and Edgar were approaching across the courtyard, clearly there to inspect the grounds before the festivities began.
“Nicholas,” Milly greeted. “Good morning.”
“Morning. And forgive me for the other day—the situation with Ike, and all.”
Milly’s lashes lowered in embarrassment. “Think nothing of it. I lost my composure as well.” The memory of that scene in the council chamber made her cheeks warm. Being goaded into anger was childish. She would not allow it to happen again. “Besides,” she added with a faint smile, “you saw the notes I left, didn’t you? The teas and cakes on display were all on my list.”
They must have pored over that mountain of notes, Milly thought. When she offered a simple “Thank you,” Nicholas rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, well, honestly, you saved us. Left to ourselves, we’d never have come up with anything decent.”
“I see.” Milly wasn’t used to being thanked so directly. Having lived almost entirely on her own, such open appreciation made her uncomfortable.
The air had just begun to turn warm when Edgar barged in. “Notes aside, what was with those sketches? I nearly choked when I saw the real cakes today. They look nothing like your doodles. Have you been getting into abstract art, or what, Milly?”
“Pfft!” Lucius couldn’t hold back and sprayed laughter. Milly shot him a withering glare, but he only muttered, “Why me?” and looked away.
“I used to think you could do anything, Lady Milly,” Edgar went on mercilessly. “But clearly your sense of aesthetics is hopeless.”
“H-Hopeless?”
Nicholas stepped in hastily, hands raised as if to placate a wild beast. “Er, what Edgar means is, it’s part of what makes you charming. Anyway, we should be going. See you later.” Clearly sensing danger, he grabbed Edgar by the arm and hustled him off. The blatant attempt to smooth things over somehow made it sting all the more.
“Uh, well,” Gilbert offered, “I suppose one could call your renditions...distinctive?”
Lucius tried and failed to stifle his laughter at Gilbert’s half-hearted attempt at reassurance. Milly drove her elbow into his side, resulting in him letting out an “Oof!”
She’d been merciful, aiming for bone rather than anything soft.
“It’s not like I care what they said.”
“Liar. If that were true, then why do you look so sour?”
“Because you laughed. Sure, I know my sketches aren’t masterpieces, but they’re not that bad.” She turned away with a huff, every inch the sulky child. And when the two boys exchanged a look, as if they were silently agreeing on something at her expense, she only dug her heels in deeper. “Anyway, Sierra’s waiting for me. See you later.” With a sharp about-face, she stalked off. Her stiff shoulders and clipped steps radiated irritation.
The boys watched her go, and when she was far enough away, they both broke into helpless chuckles, for they remembered the bratty girl who once chased Gilbert around with bugs. It was oddly heartwarming to see her acting like an ordinary girl her age at last.
As for Milly, already out of earshot, another thought gnawed at her. Do I need to be good at drawing to be a proper final boss? Maybe I should ask father to hire an art tutor.
Of course, Milly wasn’t embarrassed about her drawing skills. Perish the thought. But still, a final boss whose sketches looked primitive just didn’t sit right. That much, at least, she had to admit to herself.
Resolutely planting her steps to keep the doubt at bay, she went off in search of Sierra. She was not ashamed. Definitely not.