As soon as we stepped inside, the party finally felt real, though I couldn’t help but pause in the entrance hall, caught by the Lunae family’s obsession with the sea. Paintings of ships and stormy waves lined the walls, and everywhere I looked, there were miniature ships—some so large they seemed to swallow the space, their hulls like the bones of some ancient sea creature on display. One battleship in particular dominated the room, its two primitive cannons jutting out the ship’s bow like the tusks of a beast, sails stretched so high and wide they nearly brushed the ceiling. For a moment, I almost forgot I was meant to be at a party and not wandering through the memory of a shipwreck.
The actual tea party, however, was held in its own room, where tea and cakes had already been arranged on a massive table from which the servants would bring the desired treat. There were so many different kinds of cakes, pies, and even flans that I started to believe each guest might have their own. The same went for the kinds of tea available, with each of the roughly fifty tables being served by its own servant.
I always thought tea parties were meant to be quiet affairs—just a handful of noblewomen gossiping over a few tables, the kind of gathering where secrets could slip out between sips. But Hildegard clearly had her own ideas about what a tea party should be. This was something else entirely, almost like she wanted to prove a point. The men had their grand hunting parties, tournaments, and so on, and Hildegard gave the Women of the Capital their own event so grand it could rival a royal wedding.
Rika and I had been seated at the same table in the middle, with several other ladies in our age group. At the same time, Hildegard, together with Olivia and the queen, sat at a different table at one end of the room where they could oversee all other guests. The rest of the Yuwen family was spread out around the other tables, but I was happy to see that Emilia and Martha were together and that there was no sign of that awful Elvira Tremaine, who had made Maggie cry, nor of her two daughters. It looked like they didn’t get invited, whether it was for the incident they caused or for the rumors Janus told me about them, I didn’t know.
The other women at our table all seemed to know each other and immediately began chatting, but Rika and I were a bit unsure of them. They knew her, of course, and made a few formal greetings; the same with me, but nothing beyond that. They appeared a bit nervous, as if simply talking to us was like walking on eggshells for them. Rika just ignored them and began talking to me instead. It was so loud, with everyone talking, that we had to lean in just to understand each other.
“So what did you mean earlier with breaking a girl’s heart?”
“Sigh. Hildegard made her daughter Gertrude walk me through the garden, and once we were out of ear reach, we fought.”
“Oh… well, I guess this was bound to happen.”
“Why does everyone say this? Even that man Theodore said the same before he ran after her to console her.”
Rika didn’t even blink at the idea that I’d come out on top in an argument with Gertrude. Instead, she just let the topic drift away, steering us toward Theodore as if she could tell I didn’t want to dwell on it.
“You met Theo?”
“You know him?”
“Are you kidding? He is one of the best knights we have in the kingdom. Every girl here would kill just for the opportunity to talk with him.”
“Really, he looked rather plain if you ask me.”
“That’s only because you have Janus, arguably the best knight and most sought-after former bachelor, as your husband. Overall, Theo is a good catch and has almost won every tournament he attended. But the real reason they all go crazy for him is that he is too loyal for his own good.”
Hearing that the girls here were even more obsessed with Janus than with Theodore made something flutter in my chest—a strange mix of pride and worry. It was flattering, in a way, to know I’d been chosen by someone so admired, but it also left me uneasy, as if I was holding onto something everyone else wanted. Janus was more than just a husband; the way Rika describes it, he was like an idol to them, and I guess to her.
“What do you mean? And are you much better than the others? You call him Theo instead of Theodore?”
Rika got a bit red before answering.
“He is honorable, smart, kind, tall, and has quite a lot of muscle, although he is a bit young for me. But to squash that stupid grin on your face, none of us have a chance because he only has eyes for Gertrude.”
For someone who claimed to hate matchmaking parties, Rika certainly paid close attention to a man’s qualities. Still, it was the last thing she said that caught at me, tugging at some old curiosity I couldn’t quite name.
“What?”
“Exactly. The only girl he likes has only eyes for someone else, and yet he dedicates each tournament to her, but all she thinks about is Janus.”
It all sounded like the plot of some bad romance novel, the kind you read on rainy afternoons when you want to feel a little less alone.
“Does Gertrude know he likes her?”
“!... Mhmmm, I don’t know? But I mean she should know it’s so obvious, right?”
Thinking back, it was painfully obvious—even after only meeting him twice—that Theodore’s heart belonged to Gertrude. Was this how it looked to others watching me and Janus fumble around? I suddenly felt like I should apologize to Rika later.
Just then, one of the side doors creaked open, and Gertrude slipped in, Theodore trailing behind her like a shadow that refused to let go. The room fell quiet for a heartbeat, every eye turning their way. Gertrude hesitated, shrinking under the weight of so much attention, and nearly collided with Theodore as she took an involuntary step back, then hurried to her seat beside her mother, eyes fixed on the floor. Theodore, ever the gentleman, pulled out her chair and lingered for a moment, glancing back at her again and again as he left. Gertrude never once looked up, answering her mother’s questions in a voice so soft it barely reached our table.
Once the moment passed, the room slowly returned to its usual hum, as if nothing had happened at all.
I leaned in and told Rika everything—about the church, Olivia’s parents, and the strange things Rosalia’s father had said about my dress. She listened with that worried crease between her brows, and even after I finished, I could tell she was still unconvinced, just like Janus had been.
“Will they really let you run your own magic school?”
“They have to. The potential rewards are simply too good to pass up.”
“Then what about Janus and the kids? Won’t you have to stay in the capital?”
“That’s… you think I will have to stay?”
“If what you told me is true, then they couldn’t really afford to let you go.”
“Maybe if they had someone just as knowledgeable as I am. Benjamin has made great progress lately, if his letters can be believed. So they will have to be content with him while I’m back home.”
“I’m not sure he will agree. He has spent all his life in Rosedorn, so maybe you can wrap it up as him becoming a priest?”
“Good idea! I will have to put that in my next reply.”