It took another half an hour to reach the Selwyn estate, where a modest – but by Artemisia’s standards, still large – manor was framed by square gardens of topiary hedges and pristine lawns. Magic lanterns illuminated the drive in blue light, giving the approach a mystical feel.

Artemisia wasn’t sure whether excitement or nervousness was making her hands shake. A real old-fashioned party!

As the carriage came to a stop outside the entranceway, Emile gave Artemisia one last piece of advice. “Remember, nobody will want to offend you, and nobody can make you do anything against your wishes, even Countess Selwyn.”

“Thank you, Emile.” Artemisia smiled gratefully, and waited for Emile to leave the carriage first, with Christopher appearing to offer his hand to her. He then extended his hand for Artemisia, who hesitated for a second, and then took it.

As she stepped down onto the gravel and took a moment to readjust her dress, he bent down and whispered in her ear. “Don’t do anything foolish, and you’ll be fine.”

“Huh?” Artemisia looked up, flabbergasted and offended before she caught sight of his cheeky smile. “Hey!” She smacked his arm. “I’m no fool!”

He shrugged. “If you say so.” Then he offered his arm to Emile, and the two of them paraded up the steps to the front door.

Artemisia took a moment to absorb the atmosphere, before she heard the sound of another carriage pulling up and hurried to join the two ahead of her.

“Lord and Lady von Lindt!” A plump, dark-haired woman stood just in the foyer, who could be no other than the countess. Indeed, a cameo necklace depicting a pine tree rested on her chest. “And Lady Artemisia, too! How lovely to see you all.” She motioned for servants to take their outerwear, and as Artemisia handed off her shawl, she was suddenly surprised by Countess Selwyn sweeping forwards to clasp her hands in her own.

“How are you, my dear Lady Artemisia? I am awfully glad you were well enough to attend.”

Artemisia glanced at Emile, who smiled and motioned with her head.

“Than… thank you, Countess Selwyn,” Artemisia stammered. “I am well, thank you for asking. And you yourself?”

“Oh, better than ever! It’s my dear Archibald who’s been unwell – the foolish man had to get himself caught in the pouring rain last week and has been unable to shake a cough ever since.” She tutted. “I forbade him from attending tonight, to prevent him from pushing himself.”

“For shame,” Emile sighed. “I’m sure he would have had much to share tonight.”

“Indeed! But do not fear, he has instructed me on the passages he wanted read aloud,” Countess Selwyn said, tapping her chest. “I intend to implore Lord Welby to orate; he has such a lovely timbre.”

The countess passed them onto a servant who escorted them through the foyer and into a large room furnished for entertaining. A fire blazed in the large fireplace, with seats arrayed in an arc around it. People milled about, exchanging small talk as they waited for the event to truly begin. A long table had been set up at one end of the room with refreshments, but it was quickly obscured from Artemisia’s view as people promptly descended on their party of three.

“It has been too long, Lady von Lindt! How is your darling daughter?”

“Did you receive the tea I sent you? It was sent by my cousin who is currently in the south – isn’t it simply marvellous?”

“Sir, how goes the business with the Sargassians? I am hoping to hear good news soon – currently the price for importing sealskins is simply unsustainable!”

The sound of multiple people talking at once threatened to bowl Artemisia over, and she took a step back to distance herself from the crowd. Unfortunately, that only seemed to draw attention upon her.

“Lady Artemisia!” one brave soul began. “You look well!”

“I am, thank you. So do you yourself…” Artemisia searched her memory for the identity of the young blond woman before her. “Miss Veretitas.”

“Thank you, miss.” Miss Veretitas dipped a curtsey. Artemisia remembered the name from the letters she had received, although she had not written a reply. She was the first daughter of a baron, a relatively small fish in the grand scheme of things, but apparently the most senior among the group.

Or maybe just the most confident. Anyway, it’s time! Noble lady mode… on!

“No, I must thank you for your kind letter. I dearly appreciated it.”

“You flatter me,” Miss Verititas replied, failing to hide her smile behind her hand.

Clearly, a compliment from me means a lot.

“Did you read mine, Lady Artemisia?” a young man asked bluntly, attracting strong looks from those around him.

“I read all my letters,” Artemisia said diplomatically. “However, due to me not being at my best, I was unable to reply to all of them.”

The small group around her nodded sympathetically.

“...You seem physically hale, Lady Artemisia. Were you not injured?”

“Don’t be rude! But it must have been awfully traumatic, my lady.”

“If there’s any possible way that I – or any of us – can assist you, even if it is just to be a kind presence, please, feel free.”

As far as I’m aware, nobody knows the exact circumstances of my accident, only that I was bedridden for a week and then mostly secluded since then. I bet they’re dying to know exactly what happened… but it’s not like I can help there. But I believe we managed to prevent anything about my memory loss from leaking beyond the estate.

“I hope you all will not strain Artemisia,” Emile said, detaching from her original group. “It would be terrible if she overstretched herself tonight.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it!” exclaimed Miss Veretitas, seeming to speak for the rest. “We simply wished to inquire into Lady Artemisia’s wellbeing!”

“And now you have seem she is well, I hope you will not mind my stealing her away,” Emile smiled as she half-dragged Artemisia over back to Christopher and a few older looking individuals.

Hey, I thought I was doing pretty good there! Artemisia was tempted to speak that aloud, but before she had the chance, Christopher stepped forward and introduced Artemisia to his conversation partners.

“You’ve met Lord der Parres before, of course,” a man in his mid-to-late thirties nodded, “but not, I believe, Baron and Baroness Mercuré.” He motioned to the remaining couple, a very tall man and a very short woman. The woman’s skin was very pale, and her eyes and hair dark, the set of her features more applicable to northern Asia than the primarily white European ethnicities of all the people Artemisia had met since her transmigration.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Baroness Mercuré, dipping a curtsey.

She’s so quiet, I can hardly hear her! Artemisia curtseyed back, although not as deeply. Lord der Parres is a business partner of Christopher, and the Mercuré house I definitely remember, but what for… Artemisia noticed the fine lace shawl that Baroness Mercuré wore, and the lace on Baron Mercuré’s cravat. Lace! They patronise master laceworkers, that’s right!

“We finally meet your lovely wife!” Emile said, sweeping forwards to clasp Baroness Mercuré’s hands in her own. “Do you remember when we saw the marriage announcement in the paper, Artemisia? I’m sure you will join me in wishing you both a much belated congratulations!”

“Um, thank you,” Baroness Mercuré stuttered. “Thank you very much.”

“Yes, thank you. You know…. this may be the first time we’ve been introduced, but I remember attending the Candlenight festival ball in the capital the same year you debuted,” said Baron Mercuré, speaking loudly as if to make up for the timidness of his wife. “You danced to almost every single turn – I heard quite a few comments on how impressive your stamina was! How many years ago was that, now?”

Artemisia snapped her vision to Emile, signalling for help with her eyes. What’s with the sudden reminiscing?! I haven’t a clue!