“And where have the three of you been?” Marion asked with a vexed face. Roland did not deign to look at the three late arrivals.
The early courses, brought from an adjacent building, quickly assembled atop the table. Platters of rapidly cooling food were being laid out in front of the empty seats. Valentin noticed that some of the other attendants of the Tiarna’s dining area gave the Duvin’s a side eye and chuckled to themselves. Roland ignored his high born neighbors and attacked a loaf of bread with a knife.
Valentin quickly took his seat and furtively grabbed for some food himself. While the feast had a consistent reputation of being the finest meal one could have in the area, this part of Killicia was always Valentin’s least favorite portion. Not only was the conversation always pointed and antagonistic, it was the only time that he had to sit at a table to eat and he found the wooden benches uncomfortable. The Tiarna’s dining area was the only table in the entire Great Hall and only the direct honored guests of Tiarna Lunoult were permitted to sit at it. All other guests must sit upon the floor use large Hesrin cloth to place their food. He had been told that it was a form of supremacy over the other diners but he was unsure how eating in such discomfort was a form of privilege.
“I’m telling you that some of the vendors found it necessary to try to bargain this year. We spent nearly an extra hour trying to get through all the taverns,” explained Gilles.
“Impertinent,” Roland brooded. “We had negotiated those prices weeks in advance. After this is over, provide me with a list of the difficult parties and I will pay them a personal visit to remind them that any interaction with a Duvin is an interaction with me.”
Valentin didn’t envy his uncle’s precarious position. However he found this to be a reasonable punishment for Gilles’ treacherous act of turning his back on Valentin as he struggled valiantly against his sister’s affection yesterday. He hoped that Gilles reflected upon his actions and would make the proper choice in the future.
“Well at least the three of them are presentable,” Valentin’s mother commented, trying to find some level of consolation for the lateness.
“Sometimes I feel like you speak about me as though I am your child,” Gilles said jokingly.
“Sometimes I feel like you behave as though you are my child,” Marion rebuked without the playful tone that Gilles possessed.
Entertained eyes and ears observed the brief squabble between Roland and his uncooperative clan. While they avoided disaster, they were far too late for the customary introductions. A pointless act from Valentin’s perspective, it was still something valued by his father for the sake of his standing amongst his peers.
“It’s so good that you are prominent enough to allow your servants to join you and your wife at this esteemed table, Roland.” A voice from nearby remarked. “Oh, forgive me. I didn’t realize that your children were dressed so plainly.”
Roland took a deep breath and returned a cordial expression to the commenter. “Ah, Master Junal, I’m pleased that you were able to attend today. My children were diligent enough to help provide the festival with refreshments. When will Gerrard be attending? Or is he still working off that pesky debt in Briste?”
“I heard its Young Valentin’s Bloodstone Ceremony this year. May he take after his parents,” a woman’s voice entered the conversation.
“Perhaps he should take your own children,” Marion parried, taking a large swig of wine. “I heard that Leanne’s betrothal was recently called off. I heard that her heart is after one of your servants. I’m glad to hear that romance still thrives in your home.”
“Speaking of marriage, you should be wary not to squander Vincent’s affections for your daughter. There is only so much a spurning a young heart can take before it starts to seek comfort elsewhere,” the noble rebuked.
“There is no need to worry about-“
Valentin started to tune out the conversation and focus on the food in front of him. This is how the feast went every year for as long as Valentin could remember. His parents and other invitees of the Tiarna’s table would exchange barbed words and snide remarks in some sort of bizarre verbal duel. Between the fencing of sentences, honeyed words and compliments would shine down upon the host, Tiarna Lunoult and his family, in some attempt to curry favor from their liege lord.
He did not know whether or not it truly worked. He could only imagine what Tiarna Lunoult truly thought of the petty squabbling that surrounded him. However, for the ruler’s part, he only smiled graciously and returned compliments when given.
Valentin himself was an unassuming boy who rarely was the subject of conversation in this arena of words. His sister, unfortunately, was considered much more of an unorthodox personality. When combined with her talents in the mercantile world, she was often the focus of the comments delivered by the fellow guests. Jeanne had learned to counter the conversations around her with her own arsenal of sharp words and rival clan gossip.
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Even on the day of Valentin’s Bloodstone, it was still Jeanne’s romantic pursuits that earned the majority of the conversation. In any other scenario, he may have been jealous of the attention.
“Father, all the guests have arrived.” Vincent announced and gave his father a small bow before sitting next to his modestly dressed love interest.
“Excellent.” Tiarna Lunoult rose from his seat and the table went silent. The rest of the room copied their superiors and a wave of calm spread out over the Great Hall.
“Friends, we have all gathered here in the Great Hall to celebrate another bountiful cycle under the benevolent guidance of Killik. Though a humble agricultural spirit, he led humanity through their dark times and to the wonder that we experience today,” the Tiarna announced and paused to allow for the attendees to briefly praise their immortal patron. “However, the wisdom bestowed upon us would be meaningless without the efforts of all of you in this room. Your tireless dedication to your respective crafts and professions has allowed Roucotte to maintain a prosperity that lifts all citizens and makes High Tiarna d’Gauval proud. Please do not neglect to properly praise your clans and villages for our successes.”
The room burst into applause and ale sloshed and spilled from their cups. Parents clasped children on the shoulder and neighbors shared smiles. Those at the table exchanged courteous nods and diminutive gestures.
Tiarna Lunoult raised a regal hand and silence befell the crowd once again. He looked out thoughtfully towards his subjects. Distracted by the moment, he forgot all that vexed him. Even if for a short time, he looked unburdened.
“On this day we will feast upon our achievements and allow ourselves to feel respite before once again returning to our posts and beginning another cycle,” Tiarna Lunoult continued. “And, not to be forgotten, our ready youths will be tested by the Bloodstone to see if the Great Spirit has favored any in our region. Druid Relfon, if you would.”
From the side of the room, an aging man in furs strode to Tiarna Lunoult’s side. He possessed the four-line facial tattoo of an elder druid. Retired from such an esteemed post, he now presided over ceremony. He carefully carried an object obscured in blue cloth with gold tingled tassels. An embroidered golden star of d’Gauval sat in the middle of the cloth. A small gleam from a gap under the cloth revealed a glimpse of the Bloodstone hidden beneath. The druid uncovered the cloth protection and held up the clear crystal.
Druid Relfon kept the gem hidden beneath the ornate coverings. He held up the covered stone to the audience as a preview of what was to come. After doing a slow spin towards the four corners of the hall, Druid Relfon strode to his position to the side of the Tiarna’s table.
“Before such a ceremony and before the retelling of our origins. I have an important and very personal announcement to make,” Tiarna Lunoult informed. “I have received the wonderful news from Roland Duvin that my dear and beloved son, Vincent, is now formally betrothed to Jeanne Duvin.”
All eyes turned to a shocked girl who had leaned forward in her seat. Trained to not make any public outbursts, only her burning eyes betrayed the indignation that she felt.
“What is the meaning of this, Father,” Jeanne hissed in a low voice.
“You are too flippant, Jeanne,” dismissed their father, anger at her rebellious behavior etched onto his face. “We both knew that you were going to marry Vincent so I told Tiarna Lunoult for you. Blame yourself for lacking the decisiveness to do it on your own.”
Jeanne looked at her mother who did not return the gaze. Instead, Marion spoke to nobody in particular.
“It is what’s best for everyone,” their mother commented. “Vincent is a nice boy, he’ll take good care of you.”
Valentin sat silently watching the scene unfold in front of him. He knew that his father was a merchant and Louise’s marriage was performed in a similar fashion. Yet, it still felt like a betrayal in some indescribable way. This was not an act that was motivated by the love of Valentin or Jeanne and Valentin was unsure how he felt about Roland at that moment. Even his eldest sister was permitted to choose her husband.
He also had a selfish feeling that bubbled inside of him. The results of his Bloodstone Ceremony would likely always be overshadowed by this moment in the eyes of everyone, and he felt as though some injustice had been committed against him.
“J-Jeanne, I had no idea that this was going to happen. I was going to wait like you asked.” Vincent stammered quietly as he reached for Jeanne, Valentin could see that his face had been wrought into a look of confusion.
Jeanne allowed her new fiancé to touch her. Despite her best efforts, a look of clear displeasure was painted upon her face. Her brother had warned her of that potential the night before but it was clear that Jeanne had not expected her father to act in this rash fashion. Her emotions and feelings were not compatible with each other and a mix of rage and sadness over her father’s forceful decision fought with the genuine affections she had with Vincent for control within her mind. A collection of murmurs had spread throughout the room and the announcement had been spoiled immediately.
“It is a very emotional day for all of us,” continued Tiarna Lunoult. Close enough to overhear portions of the conversation, his face became less pleased than when he made the announcement. However, he still possessed some enthusiasm. “Now it is time to revel in our successes and remember our origins. Praise the High Tiarna, praise the Storm Sovereign, praise Killik, praise our Mother, and above all, praise the Great Spirit.”
The room started into an awkward and uncomfortable applause. However, Tiarna Lunoult’s vigorous clapping encourage the rest to burst into cheers and celebration. Large platters of food were hauled by an army of servants. Piles of food obscured the boy’s view of the rest of the room. Boar drenched in cameline sauce, roasted capon and pheasant spiced with Ampoli peppers, beef fumé, bubbling stews, and all matters of platter spread out in front of the boy. A medley of aromas danced across his nose and he reached out for the bounty in front of him.
The boy angrily chewed at the gamey meat in the brown sauce. The pleasurable flavor of the food almost removed the negative emotions that clouded his mind. So he continued to eat in the hopes that by the end of his feast that all those things that weighed upon him would cease to exist.