Quenton was surprised by how comfortable it was to travel in a horse-drawn carriage. Soirees turned out to be a type of evening party, so Quenton had spent some of the day desperately going through the library and the rest being primped for the party. He was going to a big and fancy event, where his own reputation and that of his family relied on him being charming and refined.
Think of it as one hell of a difficult tutorial mission. I have to learn how to play the game before I can grind my stats. He thought rapidly as the landscape flew past the carriage. Seeing the soiree not as an obstacle but as an opportunity to learn, had been the conclusion he came to after spending an entire day fretting about it.
In the carriage with him were Rosalind, Viola, Ivy, and Tomas. The two twins Camilla and Lyndon were apparently still too young for an event like this. For the occasion, Rosalind was dressed in an absolutely stunning pink dress with a rather noticeable neckline and an elegant dragon pattern made out of pearls. Ivy was attired in a billowing white dress with a grey bonnet, Tomas wore a gray suit with a long jacket and a ruffled button-up shirt and bib thing. Viola was reading a book while traveling, but she was dressed in a rather nondescript marine blue dress with an accompanying bonnet.
Which left Quenton dressed in a seafoam green dress with a trim of lace at the bottom and pretty blue beads embroidered on the skirt and bodice. Aliss had also outfitted him with a hat drawn in some kind of netting and boasting a smattering of blue-colored feathers.
He had never been attired in something so lavish and elaborate in his life, not even when he tried to dress up as a black mage for an anime convention. That outfit had just been a black cape and an eyepatch along with an emblemless black shirt and pants. But this outfit included what he now knew was a petticoat (a slip which kept up his skirt, a corset, underdress, underskirt, socks, a belt thing to hold up his socks, and a pair of lace-up boots. Not even to mention the job Aliss had done with his makeup and hair. At the end of the process, he had felt like a store mannequin, dressed up and put on display.
Yet the outfit made him feel slightly more confident than he had before being dressed up. Quenton had looked at himself in the mirror and had to his shock, liked the way he looked. He had felt a twinge of gratitude towards Aliss, he wouldn’t have had a clue how to manage Briony’s appearance by himself. Not the clothes, or the jewelry, and especially not the hair and makeup part.
She along with some of the other servants were riding in a carriage behind the one Quenton and his “family” were in. He felt a bit more safe knowing he had some backup with him even if Violet wouldn’t be there to guide him through the party itself.
He was grateful to have Viola beside him. He, somehow, doubted that his “parents” and Rosalind would be much help to him during the soiree. Ivy was staring at him like he was some kind of endangered species while slowly vibrating with obvious anxiety. Quenton did not want to poke that pressure cooker more than necessary. Tomas on the other hand, looked out the window, a look of vague interest on his face. He’d barely paid the sisters or Quenton a glance.
Rosalind seemed like someone who knew her stuff when it came to these things, but Quenton was both too intimidated to ask her for help and too uncertain she actually would help him. At least Camilla isn’t with us, she would probably make it all worse. He kept that last thought to himself as he considered the party coming up.
The carriage had been impressive enough of a sight, a white and gilded construction shaped almost like a raindrop. It was pulled by three horses with perfectly trimmed manes interwoven with golden ribbons. He suspected that this must be like what Cinderella felt in the movie when she went to her first ball.
But if the carriage looked like something out of a fairytale, then the area around the mansion of the Warwin family looked like it had been pulled out of myths. He had thought the manor of House Moray had been extravagant or at least compared to the cramped apartments he was used to. If the mansion was like the gardens then the Moray manor would be dwarfed in size and absolutely obliterated when it came to grandeur, by the Warwin estate.
The gardens leading up to the manor were perfectly trimmed and maintained, with the lawn being so precisely cut it looked like one could balance a coin on the grass. Flowers and bushes were elegantly woven into breathtaking displays along the road, and at one point beautiful rosebushes were elevated up to form a sort of tunnel arch above the road.
Driving through it took them into a world of crimson as the carriage was surrounded by blooming flowers on all sides, and when they passed through it the next sight truly stole the breath out of Quenton’s lungs.
The hedges and trees around the manor itself had been shaped meticulously, and that would be impressive enough. Seeing tree after tree shaped into perfect ovals standing in almost military-like ranks. No, what attracted his attention were the hedges shaped into animals. The sculpted plants weren’t standing still, they actually moved around like their real-life counterparts.
He saw green lions stalking after a herd of deer, while an enormous elephant stood proudly surrounded by lesser “animals”. And not all of the hedge sculptures were based on mundane animals, the carriage drove past two hedges shaped like enormous heads who winked and grinned at them as they passed. I am really in a magical world, thank fuck.
“Contain yourself Briony, gawking is unbecoming of a Lady,” Ivy snapped at Quenton and he quickly shook himself out of the reverie. His new mother stared at him like he was the source of all her woes before she continued. “Can’t you take more after Rosalind, display your interest without being vulgar.”
Quenton glanced over and he did indeed notice that Rosalind looked out of the carriage window with an almost bored look on her face, but something told him that this was just an act. She might not be as excited as he was at the sights, but she was probably awed as well.
Welp, the mansion did live up to the hype. Was the first thought that entered his mind when the carriage slowed so the passengers could see it in full view. It was a beautiful marble structure that stretched out like a halfway coiled serpent through the landscape. Several stone protrusions stood out from the roof and fixtures of the house and were almost like a crown in that each was tipped in gold.
Rather than having torches or conventional lamps lighting up the building in the evening gloom, magical lights shone in the air as they floated around the manor grounds. Almost looking like strange spirits rather than just lights. By the front of the manor, there were several ancient gray statues of various men that looked like Ancient Greek and Roman statues that Quenton had seen on tv.
In spite of, or maybe because of their appearance that were so clearly withered with age, they carried with them an air of importance and grandeur that the gold and magic of the surroundings could not match. In front of the house stood a long line of servants led by a handsome middle-aged man with silver hair and sea-green eyes.
The carriage came to a smooth stop before the open double doors, the driver hopped from his seat and swiftly opened the carriage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ivy tighten her lips while Tomas creased his brow as the two exited the carriage. Viola sighed and closed her book before stepping out and Rosalind seemed more to flow out of the carriage rather than conventionally exit it.
Quest: The Warwin Soiree
Description: You have been tasked with attending a soiree at the Warwin family estate without losing any social status for yourself or your family. The Moray family is of inferior status to the Earl of Warwin, be wary.
Objective: Go through the entire soiree without being a source of embarrassment for your family. Additional hidden objectives may be achieved.
Reward: 100 Experience Points
Accept: Not applicable
Quenton blinked as he began to make his way out of the carriage as an entire goddamned quest notification suddenly appeared in his vision. Thankfully, he had always been a quick reader so he didn’t lose his stride as he tried to gracefully step out from the carriage after having read and closed the notification.
At least I have a quest system here, that makes things far more convenient for me. Hopefully, I can use this occasion to grind my stats up and maybe even get a level up if I do well. Quenton thought rapidly as he got into position next to Rosalind as the family lined up before the smiling man in a suit.
“Welcome to Warwin Estate, will you require an escort to the ballroom?” The Butler spoke with a warm and almost silky-sounding voice with a layer of such complete sincerity that Quenton almost didn’t notice the dismay that flashed across Ivy’s face. He had been that distracted by the grandeur and the beautiful voice accompanying it.
“We are…happy to be welcomed here, and uh, an escort would be splendid.” Tomas eventually said before the silence could become awkward. The butler nodded encouragingly before gesturing to the line of young and handsome men standing in the back. “The Footmen here are happy to see to whatever luggage or belongings you have brought for the duration of your visit.”
He smartly stepped to the side and made an inviting gesture towards the massive opening in the mansion and the Moray family stepped courtly after him towards and into the building. The interior was somehow even more splendid than the outside of the house. As the moment they passed through the doors, his senses were assaulted by innumerable new sensations.
The sounds of several miniature indoor fountains, elegant and slightly glowing paintings on the walls, statues that sang in a low rumble as the family walked past them and gilded furniture that looked so fine that he wondered if people were afraid of touching them. He could faintly hear the sound of music and laughter from down one of the vast halls.
The butler led them down two series of long halls of pristine marble before pausing before a grand set of double doors. The doors were elaborately fretted in dark gleaming wood and someone had carved a detailed stag onto the midsection.
The butler opened the doors with seemingly great effort, music, the clinking of porcelain and cutlery, and the simultaneously quiet and loud rumble of many people speaking in quiet conversation, struck him like a sledgehammer.
“Lord and Lady Moray, accompanied by their daughters Viola, Rosalind, and Briony.” His voice snaked its way through the massive crowd like a serpent, making everyone aware of the new arrivals yet at the same time still free to proceed just as they had been.
Briony couldn’t help but exhale loudly as the family entered the ballroom, her corset constricting around her, it was somehow even more extravagant than the rest of the manor combined. It looked almost large enough to contain an entire football field and it was practically packed with people all finely dressed. Stationed throughout the room were elegant male servants in black suits holding trays of drinks, canapes, and other treats.
The floor was somehow spotless to the point that it shone and further highlighted the snow-white marble. Hanging from the ceiling were several chandeliers all lit with multicolored magical lights. On the walls hung all sorts of grand paintings and displays, but the western wall was dominated by an enormous painting that covered the entire thing. It depicted four kneeling boys and a stern father standing tall above them with a diamond crown.
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Quenton gulped as he looked out through the throng of hundreds of people. And here we go. He thought as the family and him made their way into the ballroom.
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Quenton had to admit, surviving a huge party like this one was not nearly as difficult as he had expected. There were no complicated dinner rules or difficult conversations for him to navigate. The majority of the room’s occupants were dancing in the middle of the room with a large crowd lingering on the sidelines talking. Neither group paid him any mind.
Still, he clung leech-like to Viola as Rosalind and his parents dispersed to socialize. Viola had briefly left him standing by himself as she fetched drinks, returning with two silver flutes of wine. Quenton sipped his drink gingerly, he had seen far too many shows where the main character got sloppy drunk after reincarnating due to inexperience with alcohol.
“The Warwins certainly know how to host if nothing else,” Viola murmured, just loud enough for Quenton to hear.
“No kidding.” He muttered back, watching the dancers. He’d never attended high school proms but he imagined this is what a millionaire prom would look like. Countless pretty girls in billowy dresses spun with sharp-dressed men and a band of violinists and a pianist played an upbeat classical sounding song.
“Are you going to dance?” He asked Viola, nervous she would leave him.
She gave him a flat look. “Have you ever known me to dance? No, I should think not, I’ll leave the dancing to Rosalind.” She took a long sip of wine.
“You might find yourself a partner though, I know Rosalind casts quite a shadow but there are plenty of men who would spare a dance.”
He flushed. “I don’t think so,” Quenton murmured, he couldn’t picture himself face to face with some random man with his hands on his waist. The mental image alone made him shudder.
Viola sipped her wine and smiled wryly. “We truly are hopeless,” she sighed. “It’s no wonder mother is driven to despair.” Quenton crossed his arms. searching for a snappy response as Viola sighed. “I suppose that was ungenerous of me, I know you are trying Briony.”
“Right.” He mumbled looking down at his feet. He didn’t know whether this was a response to the original Briony or to his imitation of her, either way, he was surprised to feel a twinge of hurt at Viola’s words.
“Oh,” Viola exclaimed. “There’s Lady Juliana, her mother must have worked miracles to get her an invite.” Quenton followed her gaze to a short plump girl with mousy brown hair. Viola looked to him expectantly. “You are going to greet her, aren’t you? Unless you’ve had a falling out.”
“Sure,” Quenton mumbled, taking a guess that he was supposed to be friends with this girl. He approached Juliana awkwardly, curtsying the way the manners book he’d found said to. “Hello, Lady Juliana.” He said, feeling foolish.
Juliana’s previous nervous expression gave way to an excited grin. “Ah! Lady Briony, I was so hoping you would be attending.” She said cheerfully, taking Quenton by the hand. Her hands were soft and warm and weirdly Quenton didn’t feel the usual nerves that accompanied a girl’s closeness.
“To tell you truthfully I was worried you’d grown bored of me, you haven’t answered my letters.” She said though Quenton could tell she was trying to sound casual her face betrayed real nervousness.
He smiled at her. “Of course not, I was just sick for a bit.” He lied.
Relief dawned on Juliana’s face. “You’re well now, I hope.” She asked, smiling. Quenton nodded and met the girl’s rather pretty green eyes.
“So…how are you?” He asked after a moment, guessing that small talk was appropriate. His relief mounted as no headache developed. Score one for Quenton. He thought satisfied.
“I’m doing…I’m doing well.” Her smile wavered. “It’s been uh…it’s been rather difficult since Myra…well…you are aware, I’m sure.” Quenton nodded as if he knew what she was talking about.
“Father’s not taken it well.” She admitted, her voice nearly a whisper, looking around to ensure no one was listening. “He’s been drinking more, staying out for days.” She paused, her eyes glimmering. “It’s all been quite…quite dreadful.”
Quenton squeezed her hand sympathetically, sympathy welling for the girl. He hadn’t fully expected the rich to have problems like she’d described. He guessed some things were just universal.
After a moment her face brightened. “But enough about me, how are you? I feel as though it’s been ages.”
Quenton smiled concealing his nerves. “Oh…I’ve been well.” He lied, then turned his head, distracted by a cruel high pitched giggle.
“Lady Henwick seemed to bear the impression she was of some importance, I simply dispelled her illusions. After all, it’d be terribly cruel to allow her fantasies to humiliate her further.” A melodious voice could be heard drawing closer to Quenton and Juliana.
“A himedere.” He couldn’t help but murmur. That laugh. That familiar bone-chilling laugh, he had heard countless times. It was a cold and almost exaggerated laugh that was the staple of the anime world. Every rival girl and evil alpha bitch of note had that laugh. The noblewoman’s laugh.
This was not someone he wanted to meet on an evening like this, he had seen enough anime to know where this was headed. Someone with that kind of laugh was practically born to prey on an insecure and low-status girl like himself, and if she humiliated him before the entire ball he could fail the quest and lose his first chance at some xp.
The owner of the voice came into a view. The girl looked as though she belonged on the front of a fantasy book cover. She had gorgeous scarlet hair, high cheekbones, and a perfect heart-shaped face from which peered brilliant light blue eyes. Her gown was the richest he had seen, a violet number with gold chain webbing on the bodice and wine-colored silk sashes on the billowing skirt. Behind her were several other pretty girls though none were as beautiful as her.
He simultaneously tried not to gape and to formulate an escape plan as the girl approached. Next to him, Juliana’s breathing had grown quick and her grip uncomfortably tight.
“That’s…that’s Aliza Warwick.” She murmured, her voice half a squeak. Quenton settled for staring at the girl, Aliza, like a deer in the headlights. Moving now would only certainly draw her attention whereas standing still might allow him to be passed by.
“Well, well, Lady Tufont; I must admit I am surprised to see you here.” She said, a cruel cheshire grin on her face. Juliana released Quenton’s hand, her face pale and eyes wide.
“Good…Good evening, Lad….Lady Warwin.” She stammered out, curtsying clumsily. Quenton did the same, echoing her words, though without the stammer.
Aliza looked over him dismissively before turning back to Juliana. “So tell me, is your dear father in attendance?” She asked.
Juliana flushed. “No, Lady Warwin.” She said softly.
“What was that? I’m afraid you must speak up.” Aliza said, her eyes positively gleeful.
“N…No, Lady Warwin. He is not in attendance.” She repeated, her voice shaky.
“Ah, of course not. We’ve heard that he is taking on charitable intentions, why, he's donated to every wine-sink in Tetrigard. I am certain your mother is proud of his…charitable spirit.” She said lightly, gales of laughter from her ladies following her. Quenton’s hands drew into fists. He had always hated bullies, could never stand to see other people picked on.
“And your dear sister, tell me dear, I hear she’s taken to hosting in the street and flophouse. Why, I hear they even pay her for such…conversations.” Juliana’s blush had spread to her ears and neck but though she opened her mouth she said nothing. He wanted to say something to comfort her but he didn’t want to draw Aliza’s attention.
I can’t let Juliana just get beat up on like this, what kind of hero would do that?
“And you, well, one can see why your mother did not accompany you, you’re more than enough to fill a room. Aren’t you?” Juliana’s eyes had begun to well but before she could respond Quenton had opened his mouth.
“Leave her alone.” He forced out, almost paralyzed with nervous anticipation. Aliza paused her smile widening before turning her gaze onto him, Quenton’s forehead was tinged with sweat as he stood under the gaze of Aliza and the small crowd behind her.
“Why, such a loud mouth on such a little girl. But then again, if one cannot attract attention with her looks she must find some other way, I suppose. Lady Juliana and I were merely exchanging pleasantries, do you take some issue with that?” She said, her voice flippant but her face avid.
Quenton swallowed hard. “Just leave Lady Juliana alone.” He said again. Juliana gave him a wide-eyed look, torn somewhere between gratitude and terror.
Aliza and the crowd burst into laughter. “Oh my, I see now. You’re envious of poor Lady Juliana. Well, worry not dear, I’m certain a girl as bold in manner as yourself shan’t soon be forgotten.”
Quenton glared at her. “What would you know about manners anyway?” He asked, his voice taut with anger.
Aliza’s eyes widened slightly and her smile sharpened as she giggled at his comment. “Oh my, such wit! I forget sometimes how that vulgarity has become fashionable in the lower ranks. I’m afraid I don’t know your name and title dear, presuming you have them of course. By your way of speaking, I might guess you were a lady’s maid in a cast-off gown.” She said sharply.
Quenton felt his face flush and anger like molten metal flooded through him. “I-” he started, wanting nothing more than to take a swing at her.
She interrupted him. “Don’t take offense, it was but a jest. Besides, I think it’s rather amusing when one of low breeding seeks to improve their rank.”
Quenton searched desperately for the right words but found his anger clouding his mind, after a moment Aliza tilted her head and looked at him patronizingly. Just like so many people had before. He thought as he saw all the faces that had sneered down at him reflected through Aliza.
“Nothing to say? What a pity, ah well, I suppose it was foolish of me to expect more.” She turned to leave. But, for some reason, Quenton could not let it go. No, I am not letting this bitch waltz over me on the second day of my new life. Quenton thought bitterly as he looked at the red-haired beauty and he tried to lash out.
“Not the only foolish thing you’ve done tonight.” He responded, trying to sound fierce. He succeeded at least, in keeping his voice hard and steady.
She turned and her posse turned with her, her eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh my, but you are impertinent.” To Quenton’s chagrin she still sounded amused.
“You remind me a bit of my gardener’s hound, ill-tempered and illbread but rather cute in your incivility.” Her girls laughed and Quenton breathed deeply, angrier than he’d nearly ever been.
“I will be certain to pass on stories of your conduct, I have many gentlemen callers who would be entertained by you. They do, after all, find novelty in childish ineptitude.”
She turned away, her red hair swishing elegantly, and walked away as Quenton fumed. Juliana stood quietly for a moment as the posse disappeared into the throng of people, before she spoke hesitantly. “Thank you Lady Briony, but…why would you do that?” The question came with a slight warble of emotion entering her voice.
Quenton took the moment to compose himself and actually considered the question. Yes, why did I do that? He thought to himself for a few more seconds and then Quenton turned to smile at Juliana. “Because…because I thought it wouldn’t be right to have you stand there alone.” The reply came with more certainty than he felt, but he hoped it would be enough.
Lady Juliana on her end seemed speechless so Quenton took the moment to cleverly conduct his escape. “But I apologize, I think I see my sister over there and I have to attend to her. T-write to me some time.” He said and rushed away into the ballroom to avoid the awkward conversation that would follow.
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A few hours later and Quenton could sigh in relief as he along with his family exited the party and into their carriage. Lord and Lady Warwin had been too preoccupied to personally send the Morays off, but their Butler had expressed that they apologized profusely for that fact.
So while the carriage sped away into the night and his new parents fumed. Quenton could only smile as a rush of pleasure flowed through him, along with a prompt that said.
Quest Completed: The Warwin Soiree
You have survived your first notable event as a Lady and done so without causing any long-term damage to your prospects. The Moray family are not pleased with your performance, but nor are they displeased with it. In addition, you have initiated your first social conflict and as such achieved one of the additional quest objectives.
Additional Objective: Start a social conflict that initiates a rivalry with another Lady.
Rewards: 100 XP, +1 to Composure for having survived the verbal onslaught.
Quenton stared at the quest completion prompt that had appeared before him and audibly gulped as he thought back to the party. “Oh no.” He muttered as he realized that things would not be settled with Aliza Warwin any time soon.
“Do not mumble Briony, it is vulgar. A Lady speaks clearly and with proper diction or not at all.” Ivy snapped at Quenton and he bowed his head in response and meekly said. “Yes, Mother.” And they spoke no more as the carriage rolled through the night.