The day of the banquet was graced with clear weather. Guests wandered from table to table, drinks in hand, engaging in pleasant conversation. The members of House Clarke did the same, staying together at first but dispersing the moment the duke concluded his speech.
Having yet to make her debut into high society, Liliana stayed in a quiet corner of the venue with Marianne, enjoying tea and sweets as she watched the guests mingle. Most attendees were already acquainted, so there was little need to size each other up, though people still tended to cluster with others of similar rank. They moved freely between the courtyard and the great hall, which featured a fully open balcony. Liliana’s grandparents and other high-ranking nobles stayed in the great hall, while her mother’s relatives lingered in the courtyard.
Marianne had gone to great lengths to ensure Liliana was impeccably dressed for the occasion, outfitting her in a simple yet high-end dress. It was both pretty and elegant, with sleeves shaded in a soft seafoam green gradient. Her jewelry—set with a light-green peridot and a dark-green tourmaline—perfectly complemented her youthful charm. The ensemble drew plenty of eyes, though Liliana was too absorbed in her thoughts to notice.
Petra must be relaxing in her room right about now. I’m a little jealous. I wish I were in my chambers, my nose buried in a good spellbook.
Alas, her father had instructed her to wait in the corner until she greeted the crown prince. It was all a farce—one Liliana was thoroughly fed up with—but Duke Clarke clearly knew what he was doing. Nobody who had heard his opening statement could possibly guess the truth of his relationship with his wife, or the other tensions simmering within their family. Belinda had worn a stiff expression the entire time, yet she still strained to play the role of the perfect mother her husband wanted to present to everyone.
Gratitude for his wife’s devotion, expectations and encouragement for his son due to inherit his title, consideration for his daughter—a candidate for the crown prince’s fiancée—and appreciation for the previous head of the family and his wife... To many nobles, father must seem flawless.
Liliana casually scanned those gathered in the courtyard.
Is that man speaking with my brother one of our distant relatives? If I recall correctly, the highways in his barony are notorious for monster attacks.
Clyde went around, affably greeting other relatives as well as nobles to whom he or the family owed obligations. Belinda, having lost both of her parents, had comparatively few conversation partners, limited to her remaining relatives and longtime friends. Though she was in the far corner of the courtyard, Liliana could still tell she was bragging about her jewelry—and that her companions were doing the same in return.
Some of those pieces must be worth a fortune. And a few of those pendants are unmistakably magical.
Liliana recalled the report she had read on her mother’s recent spending habits. Some of the jewelry Belinda wore must have been newly acquired, and several pieces might even have been enchanted.
There was northern blood on Belinda’s side of the family—and since the northern peoples were rumored to possess powers unlike anything seen in Slivegrandia, it was a point of pride among them. Apparently, many of Liliana’s maternal relatives were skilled in magic and hexes. For better or worse, however, Liliana knew almost none of them personally.
Among members of House Clarke, only my father and I should possess any “powers” of note, if the events of the game are anything to go by. Even then, it’s solely due to our vast reserves of mana.
Liliana was pondering the matter when she noticed something unusual. Her mother’s conversation with a friend must have struck a nerve—Belinda’s face flushed, and she trembled visibly. Even from across the courtyard, Liliana could tell she was furious.
I wonder what happened.
Acting even slightly inappropriately as a member of House Clarke was certain to earn a harsh lecture from the duke. Belinda should have known better, yet she failed to keep her emotions in check. Instead, she sprang up in an ill-mannered fashion and departed, leaving the women she had been speaking with exchanging looks and shrugs.
As much as Liliana wanted to know what had caused the scene, she couldn’t risk using a spell to eavesdrop. Her father and brother were present; in the worst-case scenario, they might discover she could use magic.
Those men talking with father... I don’t believe I’ve seen them before.
They were high-ranking nobles, from the look of their attire, yet they behaved too formally to be relatives. Liliana guessed they were her father’s colleagues from the palace. One figure stood out among them—a small, broad-shouldered, middle-aged man in a purple robe similar to Petra’s, though far finer, with a golden pendant hanging at his neck.
Is he the mage from the ministry my brother mentioned...? Liliana wondered. He seems quite close with father, though.
The man carried an air that clearly set him apart from Petra—but she was so unusual that perhaps it was to be expected. From her current distance, Liliana could judge him only by his clothing.
As she continued to watch, doing her best to remain unnoticed, Liliana saw her father exchange words with the robed man. He then spoke briefly with his other acquaintances, and the pair broke away from the group, heading straight for the corner of the courtyard where Liliana waited.
Do they want something from me?
Though Clyde had seemed intent on helping his sister regain her voice, Liliana knew better than to expect the same from their father. Abram seemed to want her out of the running for crown princess, which would explain his complete lack of effort to hasten her recovery—but whether that was truly his intent, she couldn’t say. The thought alone made her bristle.
“Liliana,” Abram said, wearing the mask of a gentle father.
She went rigid—her father only ever referred to her as “you,” never by name—but managed to maintain her composure. Since she couldn’t speak, the best she could do to greet the mage was rise from her seat, smile, and bow. Marianne, standing at her usual post beside her lady, quietly stepped back.