Sitting in her father’s study like an obedient daughter, Celeste fiddles with the broken pendant in her hands.

This cheap thing.

Suddenly noticing the dreadful silence, she wonders what her father has to say to her. The most distressing part of all this? It may be quite a list to touch upon. Celeste pities herself for the awful position she is in. 

She subtly flinches at the sound of the door behind her opening and closing. Her father’s footsteps are light as they come closer to take the seat across from her at the desk. 

“Nathan was heavily scolded tonight for involving you in court matters.”

So, this wasn’t about her visit into town?

“Will you continue to pretend you are not aware of what I am speaking about?” he asks calmly when she is too dazed to provide a response.

“I volunteered to help.”

“He should not have accepted it.”

She supposes, but that’s not the most important piece they should focus on, is it? “Was I of any help to you, father?”

If he had called her into his study to scold her, shouldn’t he look more dissatisfied?

He pauses before answering, “His Majesty was content with our proposal. It would have been unfavorable for us had we been unprepared.” 

Celeste remains hesitant to reply due to the unexpected disclosure.

“His Majesty also complimented the beautiful calligraphy,” her father adds.

“Nathan wrote most of it, father.”

“I can tell your handwriting apart from his. His Majesty and the court also noticed.”

“Does it reflect poorly on you, father?”

“Who dares to look poorly upon something that even His Majesty praised?”

Expressing pride and gratitude is rare for her father, so she is more than pleased with the direction of this conversation.

“How is your injury, father?”

“Your mother cares for it enthusiastically, so there is no need for you to be concerned as well,” he responds while placing his attention to the piles of incomplete paperwork.

There has not been a night for as long as she could remember where her father retired to bed early. Her mother still most likely does not feel well, so she wouldn’t keep him company tonight.  

“Would you like some hot tea?” she asks.  

“Are you the one brewing it?”

“Yes, father.”

“Something subtle will be nice… something other than what the duke kindly gave us.”

“Then I’ll return with tea brewed to your taste.”

“One more thing, Celeste– did anything happen in town?”

The noblemen cross her mind, but it was merely a trivial argument and not worthy of mention. “No, father.”

***

“The servants overheard that Duke Ellis was here the other night to notify His Lordship about some matter.”

Looking at Anne through the vanity mirror, Celeste asks, “What about?”

“Missing weaponry from the royal vault,” Anne answers as she continues to brush Celeste’s hair.

That problem seems to lie with the palace, so what does that have to do with her father? After that night, Celeste had much time to wonder why her father would be present if the duke had simply stopped by to return a silly pendant. The kind gesture is strange in of itself the more she thought about it.

The new information is mentally set aside when she remembers the letter she has not paid any attention to.

Isabel Fox? She is curious to see why she sent her a letter when they have never had an exchange in person. After finally taking a look, she is glad that she did not ignore it any longer than she did. 

“What is it, My Lady?”

“An invitation to teatime.”

“For when?” 

“This afternoon– today.” 

They take one look at each other before Anne runs off to find more helping hands. She could not possibly offend the marquess’ daughter by being ill-prepared.

***

Anne assists Celeste into the carriage before following her in.

“What excuse should I use this time to leave early?” she wonders aloud while looking out at the passing scenery.

“Didn’t you start enjoying teatime, My Lady?”

“When have I?”

“Well, that one instance you said you met a friend. You were very excited.” 

Celeste hums in thought. If she were to run into Emma Grant again, it would make the small useless talk with the other young nobles slightly more bearable. In a world of many noble ladies, she could not find anyone more similar to her than Emma Grant. 

“I pray that she’s there.”

Not before long, she arrives at her destination and is taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the beautiful manor. She had also overwhelmingly underestimated the size of the tea party and the presence of both young noble ladies  and men. How would she possibly find Emma?

Regardless of her wish to quickly find her place, she knew she still needed to greet the young lady who prepared the tea party.

“Thank you for the invite, Lady Isabel.”

“Ah, Lady Celeste– thank you so much for accepting my invitation. Your letter confirming your attendance arrived early this morning.” 

It was unprecedented and now she has to pay for her carelessness. “I apologize if I may seem rude. It was not my intention.”

“Not a problem, this tea party was prepared while expecting a large amount of participation. One or two nobles missing or arriving late would not have been a disruption.”

So, her mere existence here at the party is insignificant? Lady Isabel surely has a scathing tongue.

Taking no offense, Celeste smiles. “I am more than glad to hear that.”

“I hope you enjoy what I've arranged.”

“I am positive that I will.”

A servant directs her to an empty chair and she quietly takes her seat as the conversation between the young noble ladies continue at the table.  

The topic? The royal court.

Before Celeste has a chance to listen further, a voice appears behind her. “What do the young noble ladies know about politics?”

“What do you suggest we talk about then, Lord Michael?”

Celeste looks to see where the retort came from and a young woman, who she believes to be Lady Maude Hall, comes into view.

“Lady things… like your hair and flowers–,”

Refusing to hear the rest of his words, Lady Maude responds, “We have unfortunately exhausted that subject, but we are so grateful for your suggestion. Now, where was I–,”

“Michael, do not bully the ladies.”

An all-to-familiar face emerges beside Lord Michael.

How displeasing.

Pretending he had just noticed her, he directs his next words to Celeste, “My Lady, it is nice to see you again.”

Must Gregory Smith be everywhere? Does he not bother staying at home or out of her sight? She thought she had ample time to put their last encounter behind her, but she is certain he is back to be vexing once more. Apparently, she has not taught him an appropriate or deserving lesson.

“If there is anyone who has a lot to say about politics, wouldn’t it be Lady Celeste of the Lane family?”

Just as she had anticipated, he is up to his old antics again. And thankfully, she finds it easy to earn the ire of Gregory Smith. It may be petty, but it is appropriate payback.

“I apologize, but have we met?” Celeste asks. 

He bites back a scowl. “Gregory Smith, My Lady.” 

She lets out a sound to feign recollection. “That is right. It was Lord Gregory– I wouldn’t say I am that knowledgeable about the courts.”

“Strange– wouldn’t you know exactly what your father is planning?”

A look of recognition appears on Lady Maude’s face. “Count Lane's proposal that was presented in court? I have also heard of it.” 

Others immediately join in, now more interested in the current conversation. It seems her father remains to be the talk of the kingdom like usual.

“Did the court officials voice support? Did His Majesty accept it?”

“Why is there a need to be lenient towards enemies who killed and wounded our knights?”

“What about the mothers and fathers who lost their sons in the war?”

"What does Count Lane know about loss? He never entered the battlefield."

It just continues to snowball from there as Celeste watches from her seat. She becomes completely overwhelmed by the many people and their many opinions. Especially ones that disparages her father. In front of her, no less.

“I would not have expected that to come from a war aide.”

“I overheard that Duke Ellis Stone is not too pleased with it either.”

“If you were in his position, would you? He fought in a war that lasted many years only to come back and have his kingdom pamper the enemies.”

Gregory drops to her level and quietly whispers into her ear, “Just because His Majesty sang a few praises, your father has certainly gotten more arrogant.”

She was certain that she left him trembling in his boots in town the last time. So, where is he getting such courage from to harass her again for a third time?

"Say it aloud and proudly, Lord Gregory," Celeste says. 

He leans back and scoffs. “Pardon?”

“Why do you mutter under your breath? Do you fear that others can see exactly what you are doing?”

As much as she wanted to snap, she knew it would only reflect negatively on her father and her family.

“How disappointing," she says with a sigh. Despite her anger, her voice remains stable and seems to do enough to stop their current rambling. “I thought this would be a stimulating conversation, but all I am subjected to is an onslaught of ignorant criticisms directed towards my father.”

“Ignorant?”

“Well, would you all know more about what is best for the kingdom than His Majesty?” she asks.

“My Lady, you are twisting our words.”

“No, those are your words. My father was appointed as a war aide for His Majesty, by His Majesty. It was merely a proposal my father set forth and would only be passed with the royal court and His Majesty’s agreement. If and when it does, would you not say that once it becomes a law in this kingdom, it will then represent His Majesty’s word?"

Not a single word is utter in response.

“So then would you not say that you all were overstepping?” 

Without waiting for an answer from the surrounding group, Celeste gets up from her seat. 

“Seeing how you all have nothing else left to add, I am no longer in the mood to further discuss.” 

***

Celeste pities the kingdom’s people for the future that awaits them. For if the future includes those nobles she had just met, it will not be so bright.

Arriving home, Celeste makes it just in time for dinner. She finds the three members of her family already present in the dining hall.

Her mother greets her with a smile. “How was the tea party? Are you still hungry?”

The older woman looks much better now that she had some time to herself.

“I am not, but I will stay.”

Having dinner as a whole family has been rare and she did not want to miss it by returning to her room. Fortunately, her parents did not ask many questions about teatime for she did not want to reveal the conversation that took place. Instead, they discussed mundane topics and she took joy in that.

After dinner and once Celeste settles into bed, she finds herself lying awake.

The derisive words spoken today at teatime repeat over and over again. Sighing, she hopes for a few minutes of a clear mind. Just enough so that she could fall asleep tonight.

Somehow, Celeste manages to do so.

For only a moment.

The manor, which had been expectantly quiet except for the soft breathing that accompanies slumber, is now shaken by a frantic scream resonating through the dark hallways.