Chapter 50 ….
I’ll Think About It
To Lorelia, the Trisen estate was a new world. The rules and order she had known did not apply here. Even the units of measurement were different, so she had to relearn how many kilometers were in a mile and how many grams were in an ounce.
The people of Trisen measured length and weight by their own standards. The yardsticks she had used were useless here.
“Do you not understand that I am your vassal, not your liege?”
So Lorelia decided she would have to learn again. Even if it was unfamiliar and hard to understand, she had to learn the standards of this estate—his standards, his laws, his rules. It was the conclusion she reached after several sleepless nights of thought.
Let me try to understand him. I have to try harder. Then perhaps we’ll be able to embrace each other.
“Goodwill is like sunlight. Just as frozen ground melts under the spring sun and sprouts new shoots, a kind heart melts even the most frozen of hearts.”
Steeling herself once more, Lorelia looked straight ahead. Two thousand people filled the temple, all watching this way. Because she sat on a raised platform, she could clearly look down on them. She could even see the golden ornament atop the High Priest’s hat.
[As was once promised upon the sacred ash tree, may the grace of the Lord Heya remain eternal upon this land. Gods, bless Trisen.]
[Gods, bless Trisen.]
The voices of two thousand people chanting echoed against the high ceiling. Bless Trisen. Murmuring the unfamiliar prayer in the same language, Lorelia became aware of the man seated beside her. His lips remained closed; he made no sound.
Theobald sat to her left. As at their wedding, they sat side by side in high-backed ebony chairs, draped in red cloaks, facing forward.
The lord and lady.
Remembering the portrait hanging in the estate’s central hall, Lorelia straightened her shoulders a little more. She wanted to look as noble and dignified as Lady Anna.
Because today was especially important.
“Every year during the Sun Festival, the vassals gather at the temple to swear loyalty to the Grand Lord. It has not been held for the past thirteen years. Since His Grace’s succession, the Sun Festival banquet has never been opened.”
As the ceremony that began at noon reached its climax, Lorelia grew increasingly tense. She had never personally witnessed an oath of fealty or a swearing ceremony. She had not even been allowed to attend her brother Lederhart’s knighting— in the North, such rites were considered the domain of men, and women were not permitted.
[Now, vassals, swear your oaths with glorious hearts. Duke Ferbrante is the master of Trisen and the closest proxy of the Lord. Heya shall gladly bear witness to your loyalty.]
The High Priest declared solemnly.
At last, the oath ceremony began.
Moistening her dry lips, Lorelia watched the scene with fearful curiosity.
“The House of Dihof pledges its loyalty to you.”
The first to step forward was Eliya. Lorelia found it strange that she represented the house instead of her marquis husband. Was it because the marquis family was powerful? Or because she was the Grand Lord’s aunt?
As Lorelia pondered, she soon realized the truth.
Eliya had been named first for a simple reason.
She was Theobald’s heir.
“O Lord of Trisen. We shall protect you and your blood. For that purpose, we will offer even the last drop of our blood. You are our liege and master, and here we swear eternal loyalty.”
After reciting the oath, Eliya picked up a dagger and, without hesitation, sliced her left palm.
Red blood dripped onto the cloth the priest held out. Watching, Lorelia reflexively flinched her hands on her lap. Just seeing it made her own palm throb, yet the old knightly lady in noble attire did not even blink.
“The blood you have shed will not be in vain.”
Theobald responded and extended his right hand. Eliya took it and kissed the ring.
The blue diamond—the symbol of the sovereign.
The white handkerchief clenched in Eliya’s hand.
The dark crimson blood soaking into it.
The stark contrast of colors sent a chill through Lorelia—yet also relief.
Thank goodness. I don’t have to do that.
“Then… do I also have to swear loyalty? You said I’m also His Grace’s vassal.”
“The Lady of the estate does not need to undergo the oath ceremony. You have already shed the most precious blood for your lord.”
Yesterday, the steward had faithfully answered her question.
“Moreover, you will conceive the heir in your blood and shed far more for him.”
It sounded rather terrifying when put that way, but in any case, she was relieved she would not have to cut her hand every year.
The oath ceremony was repeated fifty-three times. The heads of fifty-three houses knelt before the lord in turn and cut their palms, kissing his ring while clutching bloodstained cloths.
After the second—Margrave Apel—Lorelia already felt sick enough to want to close her eyes, but the man seated to her left seemed completely unfazed.
Isn’t he afraid of blood? Even though this is his first time too?
Throughout the endless spectacle of blood, Lorelia’s nerves remained on edge. The thought that she would have to watch this every year filled her with dread.
It was a foreign and horrifying tradition, but there was nothing she could do. All she could do was struggle to understand these new rules and standards she could not comprehend.
Over the past few days, Theobald had occasionally wondered why the mere sight of the woman irritated him.
“I think it would be best to postpone our departure for Kingsburg by about three days.”
That must be why.
Her audacity in daring to try to change his decision.
It was certainly a situation Theobald had never experienced before, and it was more than enough to sour his mood.
In this estate, no one defied him. No one questioned orders he had already given or demanded explanations. Others’ opinions were something he requested when needed; no one dared offer their views unprompted.
Besides—
“If we leave the estate so early, all these guests will be terribly disappointed.”
Why are you taking the guests’ feelings into consideration?
“Your courtesy.”
So he did not show leniency. Forgetting the proper courtesy of withdrawal was something he could have overlooked, as he had in the library. Yet he deliberately called her back.
Because she irritated him.
“You forgot to thank me for permitting your leave.”
When the woman who had been standing with her back turned faced him again, his mood improved slightly.
The reaction was so immediate and clear that even he found it unexpected. It was a pleasure similar to solving a difficult problem or completing a carefully crafted painting.
So he looked at her with satisfaction.
Lorelia stood there, at a loss, unable to meet his gaze. She was obviously trying to hide her embarrassment, and watching it was rather entertaining.
Her pale face.
Her fluttering eyelashes.
Her restrained breathing.
He liked those very much.
Shall I try once more?
“My lady.”
Calling softly, he took one of her hands. It was the first dance signaling the start of the ball. After the lord and lady began, the observing nobles joined in, and the floor soon grew lively.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
She answered politely and looked up at him. She was short, so she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. Not only was she small in stature—her hands were small too.
After briefly glancing at the tiny hand resting against his palm—
“Did you not hear me tell you to take Helene as your maid?”
He gazed intently at the woman’s wavering eyes, as if appreciating them.
There was only one reason he intended to attach his cousin to her.
It seemed his wife had grown inconveniently close to Eliya.
It had been within his calculations, but now that it had happened, preventive measures were necessary.
The best person to check Eliya was Margrave Apel, and since he could not enter the ladies’ social sphere, his daughter was the most suitable choice.
Theobald’s cousin would become the lady’s maid and keep watch on her—so that his aunt and his wife would not grow too close.
Helene would gladly accept the role as Lorelia’s maid. Once she occupied the lady’s reception room, she would no doubt find creative ways to vent her resentment at losing that position.
And I, perhaps, will gain more varied amusement as well.
“May I… ask why?”
Lorelia asked.
When he merely looked at her without answering, her face stiffened slightly. It was already amusing.
“Why do you wish to… make Miss Helene my maid?”
When she asked again, Theobald realized what she was thinking.
Lorelia was conscious that the margrave’s daughter had once been his strong marriage prospect.
So you know that much. Yet you still don’t understand the meaning of the wedding gift you received.
Thinking this, Theobald answered without hesitation.
“Because I like her.”
Seeing the woman’s eyes widen, he added once more—
“I like the girl. I want my dear cousin to become your maid.”
Lorelia lowered her gaze.
Theobald saw her lightly bite her lip. Keeping his eyes on those pink lips, he continued the dance. Their small palms pressed together as they slowly turned.
One turn.
Two turns.
Three turns.
And when they faced each other again—
“I’ll think about it.”
With her eyes lowered, the woman replied.
For a moment, he doubted his hearing.
