章節 94: Vol. 1, Side Story 1
Women—
Widowed women, especially, were expected to grieve and look after the kids and let the other male of the family take care of other things that didn't involve household. But one particular lady bounced back after a week of grieving to take over the position his late husband vacated—the Marchioness Maudeee Berdwell.
Following her mother's recognition as the best tactician and strategist in Osmea, Christa made herself just as well-educated and informed about the current happenings in the duchy. Whatever her mother knew, she did as well. Taking up physical defense lessons were her mother's idea. A lot of the people around them were against it, but the Marchioness often made the duchess a great example of how ladies should be able to at least keep themselves safe.
Her motto always was, 'It's better to be prepared than none at all.'
"So how was the meeting with the duchess?" Christa turned to face her mother. She was handsome, as most would describe her. Structured jaw and deep scrutinizing grey eyes were always something people didn't like about her. They said just looking at her mother's eyes were enough to give them the chills. She's like a war goddess reincarnated; compared to her mother, Christa always felt a little… inferior.
She's also a bit on the shorter side which made her envy her mother's stature even more. She'd spent her childhood drinking not just one, but two glasses of milk everyday—one in the morning, then one before bedtime—hoping to be just as tall as the marchioness, but alas, she grew up just like her father with her slightly round face and dark brown eyes.
Honestly, if she wasn't smart like her mother, she won't have any other redeeming qualities.
"Well… It was fun. I was expecting her to be more—regal? I don't know. She doesn't seem like a duchess to me."
Maudeee Berdwell chuckled, "Did you expect her to be look down on you and act a little snobbish? Or maybe a tad criticizing?"
"Not exactly. But I wouldn't deny that the moment she came in she reeked of superiority, though it quickly faded away. She wasn't as reserved as I thought."
"She is just around your age, so it couldn't be helped. But you should see her during council meetings. All the ideas spilling from her mouth like the world was her canvas is amazing. I never thought that I'd ever set foot in that council, but when your father died, I knew I couldn't just sit still and let someone take over. The duchess' younger than me by decades, yet she's a ruler. So, I thought, why can't I be one too?"
Christa listened with her mouth shut. Her mother told her about how Amelia inspired her a hundred times before—no maybe a thousand—but she couldn't cut it short and hurt her mother's feelings.
Today, they were on their way to a small gathering hosted by a prominent family from Orhbelle, third biggest town in the Capital, and the one closest to the border of Thuenia.
Speaking of Thuenia, rumors have been going around that the increase of visitors and new establishments in Eblon were because of the duchess' engagement with the Duke of House Florence.
"Mother, what do you think about the rumor between Amelia and Duke Clement? Do you think there's some truth to it?"
"She denied it during the council meeting. She's young, he's young. They're equals." Maudeee exhaled and looked out the window. "If she said that's not true, then it's not."
"But the sudden increase in visitors? Osmea's isn't someplace brimming with entertainment. We're but a simple duchy. We're surrounded by mountains and farmlands!"
"There could be an agreement between them that happened, or maybe the innovations presented by our duchy's what keeping the visitors interested. You should always think about things in a positive light."
"But if the rumors were true? If…" Christa emphasized.
"If there's some truth to it, then let them be!" Maudee waved a hand, "There's always a first in everything."
"Mother!" Christa reprimanded. She couldn't believe she's hearing it directly from her mother—someone she looked up to who she trusts would make the soundest of decisions for the sake of both the people and duchy. "It's against the law!"
"The law is there to be broken, my dear." Her mother laughed but Christa wasn't a bit entertained. She could feel her blood boil and her brows furrowing. "You can think of it this way, if the duchess and the duke were really engaged in secret, both duchy will merge, and they will benefit greatly from each other."
"No, mother!" the lady's put a firm foot down. "The law is the law. Yes, it can be broken, but it's there to keep balance of things. It's not something that could be disregarded on whim."
"You are too stiff, dear," the Marchioness reached out a hand and caressed her daughter's reddened cheek, "You're only looking at the side you want to see. Open your eyes and see the possibilities; they're all over. Now, let us not ruin our mood with this silly rumor."
Christa almost rolled her eyes but she stopped herself. Instead, she returned her gaze to the changing sceneries outside as their carriage passed by small towns and villages. She have to acknowledge her defeat against her mother again this time. She always have a positive mindset, but sometimes it gets a little annoying.
The trip lasted for almost an hour before their carriage was welcomed by massive metal gates. Servants assisted them as they disembarked, and her mother inhaled the fresh country air as she smiled to the host who greeted them at the entrance.
"Marchioness Berdwell!" a lady younger than Maudee Berdwell held her arms open and the Marchioness gave her a short embrace. "It's so good to have you here. I thought you wouldn't be able to come."
"Oh, you know I wouldn't miss such occasion since you're rarely here in the Capital."
"And is this your daughter?" the lady looked past her mother and locked eyes with Christa.
"Yes, my one and only," her mother replied, reaching out to her and placing a hand on her back, "Christa, meet Madame Ester Normyn. Our families have been friends for decades. They rarely stays here in the Capital lately since they've got a new business at another kingdom."
"It's nice to meet you, Madame Normyn." Christa curtsied low.
"Oh, what grace!" Ester noted, her hand covering her mouth and her mother beamed proudly. "You should meet my son, Cornelius. He came with us this time after much pushing. I bet you two would look good together."
The young lady flashed an awkward smile. She didn't know that she'd be set up with a man she barely knew. Christa looked at her mother and it seemed that she was taken aback too since she couldn't help nodding slightly.
"Why wasn't I told that I'm meeting her son?" Christa whispered when they were ushered to a large drawing room.
"I didn't know either. But she has always told me that she wanted me to meet her son. I've never saw him once because he grew up in at his grandparent's estate in Bruiles."
"Mother, I don't want to meet him." the young lady said between gritted teeth as she smiled at whoever they passed by.
"Just go with it. Meeting him once doesn't mean you'll marry him. Smile and enjoy the company." Sometimes, Christa really hates how her mother thinks about certain things.
When they finally entered the drawing, all eyes were immediately on them—her mother especially. She's someone who always took anyone's attention. Christa, however, would rather just melt in the background, but she knew she couldn't. Her mother went around greeting everybody, tagging her along and introducing her. She bowed and curtsied so much that she's about to hurl. Guests kept on coming and the more they came, the more she had to be dragged all over.
Tired, Christa excused herself from her mother and the circle of people who came to converse with the infamous Marchioness. She was walking through the crowd and into a corner for refreshments when Ester suddenly caught her attention. Christa didn't mean to lock eyes with her, but she just did.
It was already too late to bail.
Tall and slightly blonde with plain brown eyes stood in front of the young lady. Ester introduced him as his son, Cornelius, then she left them to just sort things out themselves.
"Well, this is awkward," the young man said, his hand on his nape. "What would you like to drink?" she asked, suddenly turning his back to choose from the array of drinks laid on the table.
"I… already have one." Christa showed a small smile, raising the glass she's holding.
"Oh, right… Sorry about that. I didn't noticed." He chuckled.
Cornelius was cute, like a cuddly puppy wagging his tail, but puppies were the last thing Christa would describe his ideal man to be. She like decisive men. Looks doesn't matter that much, though it's a plus. As a friend, maybe he'd consider Cornelius, but the meaningful smile Ester gave her back then when she left was enough for Christa to understand her motive.
The two talked until Christa finished her drink—and she finished it fast. There was nothing notably interesting in the topics that Cornelius brought up, so the lady either nodded along or let out short answers. When the gong for dinner sounded, Christa was so happy about it that she ended up clapping her hands. She quickly excused herself, saying that she needed to attend her mother who's picky with food—which, of course, wasn't true, but she could think of a better reason.
The bountiful dinner started and ended with private musicians the Normyn's hired. After they had their fill, they were invited at the back garden where to connecting large gazeebos where filled with decorative lights. The musicians also went and transferred at the small dais prepared for them, and there the conversation continued where only now wine was served.
Once again, Christa was dragged by her mother until she found herself some people interesting enough to converse. But as the night grew deeper, the conversations became scarce. The young lady didn't want to stay at one place and be approached by Cornelius again who has been eyeing her for some time now, just waiting for her to be free.
"Good evening…" Christa turned back at the cool voice that emerged from behind her, and because of her height, she was forced to look up a little.
"Good evening," she mouthed as she stared at a pair of smokey gray eyes.
"I've been wanting to talk to you, Lady—" he trailed off, leaning closer a little to listen as Christa gave her name. "Marchioness Berdwell's daughter?" he then asked and the lady nodded, still speechless. She knew perfectly well who's standing before her, all tall in his perfectly tailored suit and sleek hair.
Christa gulped. She's heard so much about him from the other ladies she spent time with that even though it was her first time seeing him, she knew who he was right away.
"Piers," he took Christa hand and lightly kissed the back of it, "It's an honor to meet you Lady Christa. I am good friends with your mother, and she always talked fondly of you." He flashed his perfect set of teeth and the young lady couldn't help but hold her breath.
"It—it's a pleasure to meet you too, Sir Piers Mulford. I didn't know you were here." Christa stammered and she rarely does it.
"I just arrived in place of my brother since he had some other important things to attend to."
"Do you want to speak with my mother? She's…" Christa turned around to scan the crowd, but the second Mulford son stopped her.
"Not really." He said and Christa looked at him confused.
Why would someone like Piers Mulford want to talk to her? She heard that he's a playful one but was given the position as the Vice Commander of their knights' fourth division at a young age. They're in charge of patrolling through towns and solving petty crimes, and he's been rumored as a monster with a hand of steel like his brother.
"Uhm… I… Have you had dinner?" Christa felt her cheeks warmed up when he heard Piers chuckled.
"No need to be so stiff. You're a friend of Lia's, right? I mean, Amelia—Duchess Amelia?"
"Ah yes," the lady bobbed her head then she turned to the side just to wander her eyes elsewhere. Looking at Piers directly took a toll on her mental health. "We had a picnic once, then we send gifts and exchange letters sometimes."
"Are you perhaps waiting for someone?" Piers tilted his head then looked at the direction the lady was looking. "I saw Cornelius looking this way with a grim face. If so, I don't mean to interru—" Christa suddenly faced him.
"No. St-stay here—I mean, if you're free." She said with her head down, embarrassed of the hand that she placed on the duke's son to stop him.
"Oh… I see," he said, "You don't like Cornelius? He's a good champ."
"It's not that I don't like him…"
A small smirk ran across Piers' face and his eyes twinkled in amusement, "Then why? He's handsome—not as handsome as me, but you have to give credit—he's got a good head on his shoulders, he's from a wealthy family, and he might looks shy but he's sociable enough."
"He's just… not my type, I guess?" Christa shrugged her shoulders. She didn't even know why she's telling Piers such a thing. She didn't even know what exactly her preference was except for that one thing—decisiveness.
"Oh?" Piers sounded before he brought his drink to his mouth. "Let me just move here a little," he said as he stood closer to Christa that she could already feel his body heat reaching her. "Since you don't like him, what do you like then?" there was a teasing in his voice.
"I don't know," she whispered.
"Oh? But you know enough to decline Cornelius." Piers smile widened. He took a step forward and bent down to reach Christa's ear. "Would you…" His voice tickled the side of her ears, "…like me to help you get away from him?"
"What do yo—" Christa wasn't able to finish her sentence when she turned to her side only to come face to face with the Mulford son.
He was so close. Really, really close. So close she can even feel the tip of his upper lip against her.
"I am terribly sorry, Lady Christa," Piers quickly recovered from being equally shocked and moved a step back. "He was looking over her and I wanted to tease him a little, so I leaned a closer."
"It's okay… I—"
"Well, you seemed to have acquainted yourself with my dear daughter," Maude suddenly emerged out of nowhere and Christa felt like glaring at her mother. Though at the same time, she was quite thankful for her interference. Piers only flashed a curt smile and bowed almost parallel to the ground.
"Marchioness Berdwell," he said.
"I hate to break your little chat, but we have to go, darling." The lady said, placing her hand on her daughter's back. Christa looked at her confused. She thought they'd be staying the night.
"It's already late, and it's dangerous to travel at this time."
"I have some urgent matters I have to attend to tomorrow."
"Why don't you let me, and my men escort you back to the Capital?" Piers spoke and both ladies turned their heads in unison. "I don't like parties, so I'll think of this as my excuse for leaving early."
Christa and her mother looked at each other. The young lady said that they couldn't possibly bother him, but he insisted saying that he couldn't let Amelia's friend travel so late.
"Are you okay with that, my dear?"
"Why are you asking me? You're the adult here." Marchioness Berdwell agreed after some thinking but the young lady's thought that this wouldn't be the last of it.
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