When Seria Stern was staying in the empire’s capital, she had resided in a terraced house belonging to the High Church.
The meals they served there were depressingly plain and bland.
So much so that I figured the original Seria spent every single night attending parties and balls as a way to seek out more appetizing cuisines.
The kitchen at Castle Berk, on the other hand, was like a culinary museum.
There was never a shortage of sumptuous, exciting dishes, as well as an ever-expanding array of new flavors.
I ate better than I ever dreamed a person could eat.
Thankfully, the constant trudging through the glacier helped me burn off all those calories, otherwise I might have had to say goodbye to Seria’s perfectly toned figure.
Now that I had renewed my pledge to continue serving House Berk as a Sterne, I would need to resume my inspections of the glacier.
Winter was still far from over.
“Your Grace,” I announced.
“I intend to return to the glacier starting tomorrow.”
“I think we can suspend the inspections for the time being,” Rouche said.
“What for?”
“For now, I would rather you act as hostess of the castle.
Temporarily, of course.”
I stared at him in wonder.
How could I be a hostess?
“The High Priest is due to arrive here in three days,” he informed me.
“He should have a proper welcome.”
“But three days, that’s too…” I trailed off, realizing something incredible.
“That means… will he be using the translocation stones?”
“Correct,” he confirmed.
I couldn’t believe it.
Seria had spent a lot of time with the High Priests, and in all that time they had never even considered using the translocation stones.
Except for the most urgent circumstances, such as delivering news of a death, such valuable resources were hardly ever put to use.
But after a moment’s consideration, I had to admit it made sense.
From the perspective of the High Church, the recent news coming from the dominion of House Berk must have felt like a thunderbolt––continuous, uncontrollable, and potentially damaging.
But there was one thing I did not understand.
“Your Grace, everyone must know about our marriage by now… but do they know about Marquis Hanneton and the Lady Saint?”
“Yes.”
“But how?”
“Well, you would not have known in your state, but Marquis Hanneton requested an annulment as soon as he returned to the castle.”
“Really?
But didn’t he—”
“If you would like to know more,” he cut me off, “then I suggest you ask your lady knight.”
At this sudden mention of Abigail, I gave Rouche a quizzical look.
“Are you not curious why your knight was absent from your side when you woke up?” he asked.
“Or where she has been since?”
Truth be told, I had not even considered Abigail’s whereabouts.
As a former assassin, she was always here one moment and gone the next.
There was plenty to keep her occupied, and she often came and went without my leave.
So her absence seemed perfectly normal to me.
“Go see her,” he said.
“I will have Sir Elliot take you.” His stoic expression never changed, which told me that nothing sinister had befallen Abigail.
Actually, no.
Rouche’s expression would show it even if she had been beheaded.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” I replied.
I rose, gave Rouche a bow, and walked towards the door.
So, Callis requested an annulment as soon as he returned.
And yet Lina had cheerfully and obliviously called out to Callis earlier in the corridor.
Did that mean Lina was unaware of what was going on?
Everyone else knew about it, so why was she the only one left in the dark?
And if that’s all true, then what happens from here?
Part 3.
The Incident at the Ball
I had not expected Abigail to be imprisoned.
She herself refused to tell me the story of how she ended up in the dungeon, but my guardian angel, Sir Elliot, was practically dying to tell me what had happened.
Abigail had apparently been livid about what Callis had done.
Seething like an angry serpent, she was prepared to strike the moment he returned from the glacier.
Not a physical strike, obviously—Bibi did not have a death wish—but she did mean to strike with a public insult.
And in Berk territory, throwing your handkerchief at someone was an unforgivable offense, considered to be the height of insults.
However, when he finally did return, Abigail had realized that Callis significantly outranked her.
If she intended to observe the knights’ code of honor, she could not insult such a highly-ranked knight to his face.
So, she did the next best thing—she threw ten handkerchiefs at ten of Callis’s best knights.
Now, if she had only done it once, she might have gotten away with it.
They all could have laughed it off.
But to ten knights?
Ten knights serving the Marquis of Hanneton?
This was a disgrace, and it would be viewed in such a light far and wide.
They had no choice but to make an example of her.
And that was how Dame Abigail was sent off to the dungeon.
Sir Elliot tried to comfort me.
“Don’t worry.
It is only meant to teach her a lesson.
She will be released in a few days.”
“But the dungeon must be so cold.
What if she freezes to death?”
“Dame Abigail, freeze to death?
Lady Seria, she has endured far worse than a few days in the dungeon.”
“Even so,” I said, biting my lip with worry.
“I would like to be there the moment she is released.
as soon as she’s released.
With warm stew and the thickest, finest cloak ready to warm her.”
“I will ensure they are prepared for you in advance,” he offered.
“Thank you, Elliot.
You really are like my guardian angel.”
“Being called an angel is not exactly flattering for a knight.”
“It’s not?
I have been calling you my guardian angel every day since you stood up for me with the archduke.”
“Yes… it might be better if you stopped that, my lady.”
It was recommended that I not visit Abigail while she was serving her punishment.
So Elliot only led me to the dungeon entrance, and then we headed back towards my annex.
“Lady Seria!
Wait for…” It was Lennon rushing towards us with a thick bundle of documents in his hands.
He was panting so heavily one might have assumed he was heaving his final breaths.
The rumors of his weak stamina were evidently no exaggeration.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yes, yes,” he chuckled through his panting.
“Just fine.
Here you are.” Then he handed me the entire bundle of documents.
“What’s all this?”
“These are the details of the High Priest’s scheduled visit, including the expected formalities of the welcoming committee and the traditional offerings to the Church, as well as a few recommendations to make it all run smoothly.
It is of utmost importance that all decorations used for the year-end ball are taken down and these set up before the High Priest walks through the gate.”
“And I am to…?
Wait, what about a year-end ball?” I was still gaping at the stack of documents.
“Did His Grace not inform you?
Your wedding reception?”
I shook my head, oblivious to what he meant.
I had naturally assumed that the wedding reception would have been called off.
“Well, a group of noblemen suggested that, rather than cancel it, we simply repurposed it into a year-end ball.
In that way, we avoid wasting all the food, flowers, and wine prepared for the occasion.
And with so many nobles having come so far, we would not have to send them away without a proper banquet.”
“Okay…” I was unsure why he was telling me all of these things.
“When is this year-end ball?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“And the High Priest is coming in three days?”
“Correct.”
“But what does any of this have to do with me?”
“My lady?
No one told you?
You are the lady of the castle.
The hostess.
These are all tasks of which you must take charge.”
It didn’t make sense.
I could not calculate how such a transition could be made so quickly.
A visit by the High Priest was a solemn affair.
Parties of any sort were strictly prohibited.
There could be no more than three types of food.
But for a ball, the castle would have to be elaborately decorated.
Then, in no more than a few hours, all the decorations would have to be stripped down, replaced by reverential white drapes, and every single trace of the party completely removed.
In addition, there would need to be two vastly different meals prepared in less than a day.
Anything less would be seen as a terrible affront to the High Priest and his esteemed entourage.
And all of this had to be accomplished in less than three days?
By me?
So this is what Rouche had meant when he told me to take a break from my glacier inspections for a while.
“For now, I would rather you act as hostess of the castle…”
Delegating all his tedious tasks to me, was he?
Aside from being handsome, Rouche was also extraordinarily cunning, that was for sure.
But when I considered what Rouche had done for me, sacrificing his first marriage to save the life of someone who was meant to die a horrible death, how could I not want to reciprocate his kindness?
Thinking of it that way, taking charge of such events wasn’t too big of a price to pay.
However, as I began to flip through the documents, noting the endless array of details that needed to be dealt with in such a short span of time, I seriously wondered whether I was up to the task.
* * *
I had to go over all the food for the ball, inspect the wine and silverware stored in the cellar, and check that the tablecloths, flowers, and curtains for the dining tables were laid out correctly.
I also had to replace the fabrics on the chairs and sofas, which required a thorough exploration of the castle’s underground storerooms.
After a few hours I was so exhausted that Sir Elliot ended up having to wheel me around in a kind of wheelchair just so I could continue.
After all, it wasn’t that long ago that I had collapsed from significant blood loss during the wedding.
Not even a day had passed between my regaining consciousness and being put to work preparing for two enormous social gatherings.
When I finally returned to my chambers, utterly spent, the maids brought me a warm dinner.
“My lady, please take your meal now.”
“You must be so tired.
We have prepared it especially for you.”
The scents filling the room both soothed me and gave me the energy to eat.
Warm gingerbread, piping hot mushroom stew, and goose meat topped with applesauce.
After eating, I could feel some strength returning.
Then the maids brought me a pie topped with fruits preserved in sugar, and my mind became clear again.
It was curious how a satisfying meal could not only replenish me but also inspire the motivation to continue with my exhausting labors in the morning.
Whether I had the motivation or not, I had to finish.
I owed that much to Rouche.
While I relaxed with a cup of after-dinner tea, I responded to Begonia’s message about altering my dress for the ball.
I also opened two letters that had been delivered in my absence.
One was from Callis and the other from Lina.
I expected a letter from Callis, but not from Lina.
And the contents of Lina’s letter were quite unexpected—repeated apologies and a desire to become good friends with me.
Friends?
What was she thinking?
I could not even imagine being on friendly terms with the lover of an ex-boyfriend, let alone being pals with the woman who had stolen my fiancé.
But with all I had been through that day, sleep took precedence over all those things.
I was too tired to dwell on any of it and, luckily, too tired to be bothered by such things either.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep.