Valentin considered whether or not it would be best for him to leave the carriage first or last. On one hand, he had most certainly broken the only rule provided to him by his uncle as he did not return by zenith before the Steward. However, it would be extremely rude for the guests of the visit to be forced to depart a carriage before the host.
The traveling woman, disinterested in Valentin’s hesitation, hopped out of the carriage. She took two large steps before throwing her arms above her head and stretched her body like a sunning cat.
Tiarna Lunoult tapped Valentin on the shoulder and motioned towards the exit. The two departed the carriage and onto the property. Lunoult was aware enough to have Valentin step out before him. Vincent assisted the Steward from his seat and the carriage lurched slightly from the cumbersome movement.
Valentin’s father strode towards the carriage and gripped Valentin quite sternly by the back of his tunic. He forced the two of them into a bow. Valentin gulped because his father was fully within his merchant’s persona and would be holding onto his anger until a more appropriate time. It was worth noting that the anger Valentin’s father left to stew was always worse than an immediate punishment.
“Steward Anton Tressavie, it is our greatest honor to host an esteemed guest such as yourself.” He shook Valentin a bit violently but maintained his cheerful exterior. “I apologize if my son caused you any inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience?” Tressavie said with distinct surprise. “Was it not your idea to have your son greet me at the entrance?”
The Steward walked past the incredulous father and son pair and towards the entrance to the manor. Euna, finished with her stretching, swiftly moved to follow the Steward.
“It’s something that’s been happening more in the Northern territories,” the Steward informed, his eyebrows furrowing by the sheer fact that he had to explain anything. “Euna here had been telling me about it. It shows me you’ve been doing your due diligence with emerging etiquette. Excellent.”
“I was taken off guard that the customs of Eivin had reached so far south,” Euna complimented and bowed towards Roland and Valentin.
Valentin felt the grip on his back loosen almost entirely and he let out a sigh of relief. He lifted his head and noticed Vincent give him a sly smile from the corner of his eye.
Steward Tressavie approached Valentin’s mother and sister and offered a slight bow. “Good day, ladies Duvin.”
“Good day, Steward Tressavie,” Valentin’s mother responded in kind and the two women returned a gesture of respect. “I am Marion Duvin and this is Jeanne. It seems that you are already acquainted with my son, Valentin, so I will spare you a reintroduction.”
“Yes, yes. Quite the precocious boy,” Steward Tressavie said with a laugh. The man gave himself one quick strike to the stomach making a loud thud. “Now, then. I have been greatly looking forward to this prepared feast since daybreak.”
“Oh of course, Steward. Right this way.” Valentin’s mother ushered the Steward inside and Jeanne followed.
Roland let go of Valentin entirely and gave Tiarna Lunoult a cautious look. Anything that was amiss on this important day would be met with great scrutiny. The amount of cycles they had been friends meant nothing in the face of what Roland could gain from this visit.
“Bernard, I was not expecting you to accompany the envoy as well. Is something amiss?” Roland asked.
“Nothing in the nature you anticipate,” Tiarna Lunoult replied, denying any sort of issue. “I had simply mentioned to Tressavie that I had been so occupied with Killicia preparations that there were few opportunities to discuss recent business with you. In his graciousness, he insisted that I join him to visit.”
Roland nodded but was seemingly dissatisfied with the answer. He then motioned to Vincent.
“And what of him?”
“His reasons are much more of a single mind. Or perhaps single body is a more apt phrasing,” Tiarna Lunoult responded and the two men stared at Vincent who was scratching at the back of his head in slight discomfort.
“Is that so?” Roland asked with narrowed eyes.
“Come, Valentin, let’s not miss the meal while it’s hot,” Vincent ordered the boy with rapid speech. He snaked his arm over Valentin’s shoulder and gave him a desperate smile. He squeezed Valentin. “Right?”
“Well I am pretty hun-” Valentin began.
“Great!” Vincent then dragged Valentin towards the doorway and the two fathers followed shortly behind.
Valentin spotted the escorting horsemen dismount and meet with servants that scurried out of the ether. After passing the reins to the servants all of them went to the back of the carriage and lifted a massive black wooden chest. It no doubt carried all of the Steward’s belongings. Valentin wondered what kind of items such a man thought necessary to bring along.
Euna had also moved to the back of the carriage and removed a much smaller case. As she was opening the case to inspect the contents, Valentin was interrupted.
“Have you gotten any good presents yet?” Vincent asked Valentin casually.
“A couple, but I imagine that I will get much more tomorrow,” Valentin answered, his eyes glittering with the prospect of gifts. However, he quickly stifled that emotion in favor of the humility that his father had impressed upon him.
“I think I have something picked that you will enjoy,” Vincent replied with a grin. “I hope that you stay a few nights in Roucotte, I will be sure to take you riding.”
“Really?” The boy asked with a shining expression.
“Of course, of course. It would be my pleasure to take you with me. Valentin, we’re friends right?” Vincent asked quietly with a faux warm smile.
“Sure we are, Vincent. But your face is scaring me a bit.” Valentin made sure to return the volume level that was used to him.
The smile dissipated like a fog. It was clear from discoloration under his eyes and his relaxed posture that sleep had not been a regular visitor to Vincent’s chambers. The acknowledgement of his condition only seemed to make him worse, as though the comment is what made it suddenly manifest. He sighed and looked over towards the doorway.
“I’m just a bit nervous.” Vincent admitted and leaned even closer. “Say, has Jeanne talked about me at all recently? Has anyone else come by to talk to her?”
“Huh?” Valentin spat in confusion.
“Don’t start acting coy on me. I want to know if anything strange has happened, if her heart has strayed towards another.” Vincent looked anguished when the words passed his lips as though the truth had already been decided for the worst and he was preparing himself for his pitiable fate.
Valentin went into deep thought for a moment and felt Vincent staring at him intently. Vincent had tried to win his sister’s heart for some cycles now. ‘A natural transition from childhood friends to life partners,’ was how Vincent tried to explain it when he first arrived with a bouquet of blooming peonies.
In truth. Valentin found the entire matter a bore. Jeanne rarely spoke of her preferences in suitors. She spoke far less now that she reached the age where their father began to take those words more seriously.
“She did have a visitor recently,” he admitted before casually shrugging. “But I didn’t really pay attention. She gets visitors all the time.”
“I will cut off your hands,” Vincent quickly replied in a way that felt only half joking.
“It wasn’t romantic I swear!” Valentin clutched his hands close to his body. “What are you so worried about?”
“I tried asking her about…” Vincent trailed off for a moment. “I tried asking her about our future and if we could start that future now. And, I’d like to make it clear, it wasn’t an outright rejection. But I’ve been thinking about it ever since.” He had since removed his arm from around Valentin and had nervously been locking his fingers together and rhythmically tapping on his knuckles.
“Oh.” Valentin had never really experienced whatever Vincent and Jeanne were going through but wanted to cheer him up all the same. “If it helps, I like you the best out of anyone Jeanne’s ever talked to. I can tell her that for you.”
“You would?” Vincent gave Valentin a constricting hug that the younger boy immediately tried to indignantly wriggle his way out of. His eyes crazed, giving him the appearance of a trapped animal. “You must truly be blessed by the Great Spirit and every ancestor. A kind boy that anyone would wish to stand behind their back! I will give you a hundred, nay, a thousand gifts tomorrow.”
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“Vincent, you mustn’t ingratiate yourself so aggressively to the boy. Or do you plan on gaining his endorsement over Roland’s.” Tiarna Lunoult chastised.
“No offense to Master Duvin, but if Jeanne lived in Roucotte with me, I feel that she would insist that Valentin move in with her.” Vincent provided an overly deep bow towards Roland. “Though I would love your preference as well.”
Roland did not appear to be in the mood to discuss anything other than his guest and pushed past the two boys with Tiarna Lunoult following shortly behind. Valentin moved to enter the door but stopped when he saw Vincent with a concerned expression on his face.
“I didn’t know it meant so much to you.”
“It’s something that has caused many sleepless nights over the past days,” Vincent replied, replacing his gloomy expression with a wide smile. “Moping won’t change her heart. Now is the time for feasting.”
Vincent and Valentin walked through the threshold of the Duvin estate. In truth, it had been the first time that Valentin had entered his own home in days. It had a strange gleam to it that the boy had never seen in all the cycles that he had spent in this place. All of the wood had been restored to a condition that Valentin had never before seen from the flooring to the window sill to the settle bench. Familiar imperfections within the home had been removed completely.
Whose home is this? This place had all of the familiarities of his home but at the same time it had felt foreign to Valentin. How much effort goes into impressing someone like the Steward?
The Steward and the rest of Valentin’s family had already made their way into the dining space. Six cushions were arranged around a vibrantly blue dining cloth. Were the cushions redone? The colors appeared more vibrant than normal.
The large, arching windows allowed for much of the natural light to spill over the eating space. Gilles sword was mounted to the near wall above the shelves of wine and spirits intended for casual meals and familiar guests. On the far wall was a painting of a ship that his maternal grandfather painted many cycles ago. Compared to the majority of homes in the d’Gauval region of Strettia, this one would create deep envy. However, the sight of the opulent carriage had left the space feeling oddly barren.
“Mistress Duvin, how is it that the Duvin clan came to construct this home? The structure reminds me more of a fort than a manor.” Steward Tressavie had been inspecting every aspect of the home.
“These are ill advised remnants of the Terekulo clan before the region was unified,” Valentin’s mother explained, entering into the lecture reserved for every guest that asked. “The story goes that the Tiarna at the time was convinced that surrounding their territory by forts in each cardinal direction would keep the lands safe. However, the clan lacked the resources to build four forts quickly; they had at most enough for two. So, instead of having two stout fortresses to the north and east that would deter their more powerful rivals, they had four unfinished forts and no coffers.”
Marion placed her hand on the cool stone and glanced about her ancestral home. “This southern fort was both the most foolish and the least finished of the four with only this building standing in an incomplete state. The Terekulo clan was destroyed in the next couple generations mostly due to unrest with their territories. Before the Duvin clan existed, my ancestor was one of the stonemasons from the town of Sarve that worked on the eastern fortifications and heard of the abandoned building from a tavern rumor. During the unrest, he moved into this building and spent the rest of his life finishing it. The village of Orsulie and the vineyards came generations later.”
“Your ancestors made the correct decision,” Steward Tressavie complimented. “I am also beginning to truly understand how deep the original culture is steeped into this land.”
“Speaking of differing cultures, I have heard that in the provincial capitals, it is common for the esteemed to use tables and chairs. In the homes of the provinces, we still dine on the floor. I hope you understand and forgive the downgrade,” Roland bowed to the Steward apologetically.
Steward Tressavie rumbled with a deep belly laugh that made the entire room flinch for a second. His golden cloth made one more tour around his face.
“Roland! Roland! No need to bow so deeply or apologize with such remorse,” Steward Tressavie reassured Valentin’s father. “I have come to see already that the villages here display deep levels of humility. So something such as this is no great surprise to me. If anything, perhaps this will be an opportunity to reconnect with how the nobility of old used to dine.”
“It seems that my luxurious reputation has caused you much consternation. Please fret not. Such lifestyle choices as the ones you display are not an affront to me.” Tressavie continued, plopping down on one of the cushions and clapped his hands atop his knees.
Roland nodded and sat opposite of the Steward. He motioned at the servant that was present in the area.
“Maggie, please bring three more sets for our additional guests,” Roland ordered.
“Two will be all that is required. Euna will not be sitting,” Tressavie immediately corrected. Valentin had wondered if Euna was in some sort of trouble. He looked towards the doorway to see the woman standing in the entryway, seemingly unconcerned by the Steward’s seemingly harsh words.
“Since we are uninvited guests, Vincent and I will not complain if you provide us with the daily set.” Tiarna Lunoult added. Maggie bowed and quickly departed the room.
“Bernard, you do not need to use the common set. Valentin can use the common set,” Roland stated and urged the man to sit. Marion had already settled herself next to her husband and Lunoult had moved to sit between Valentin’s mother and the Steward.
Jeanne who was in the process of sitting immediately straightened back up. She looked towards her brother with a familiarly sympathetic expression that filled him with a sharp desire to begin running for the hills.
“In that case, Valentin may have my set and I will use the spare with Vincent.”
“There’s no need to do that-” Roland began.
“Then he may sit in my lap,” Jeanne beamed, hands at her hips.
“There is even less need to do that,” Valentin complained with a sour expression on his face, falling easily to his sister’s provocation. That would be worse than eating alone outside. A complete humiliation before one of the most powerful men in the region.
“I will take the spare with Vincent.” Gilles stated firmly as he entered the room, Euna followed shortly behind with the box that Valentin had seen her inspecting. He bowed before Steward Tressavie. “My greatest apologies, Your Eminence. I was completing some business before zenith ended. You do not mind using the regular dishes do you, Vincent?”
“I do not mind,” Vincent said flatly with a shrug. “I’d prefer the lap offer though.” Vincent tried to say the last part silently but Valentin was still standing right beside him.
Valentin thought Vincent to be an unbelievably hopeless man at that moment. This cannot be the man to look up to, surely. If Vincent believed that this hopelessly pathetic routine was the key to Jeanne’s heart, then Valentin may do very well to revoke his offer to vouch for the young noble.
“If that is what you all agree to, I will say no more of this nonsense,” Roland dismissed. Valentin saw his father’s usual irritation peek through his calm, performative exterior. However, he had to try with more vigor than normal to regain his composure.
“This home certainly is lively,” Tressavie grinned widely. “There is a warmth here that cannot easily be faked. I would know.”
With that, two more settings were brought in and everyone was seated. Valentin found himself sitting between Jeanne and Vincent. The energy in this gap was strained and awkward with confused love. This surely would harm the flavors of the meal. Perhaps the common set would have been preferable.
“Jeanne, I wish to trade seats,” Valentin whispered to his sister.
“Hmm? What’s wrong with this arrangement?” Jeanne asked, pretending not to recognize the issue at hand.
“What’s going on with you and Vincent?” Valentin hissed, possessing no patience for this lover’s tiff. “I thought you liked him a lot. Did something happen?”
“No, nothing is wrong,” Jeanne answered with a guilty expression. She glanced at Vincent who provided her with a nervous smile.
“Alright, let’s swap,” she agreed.
The siblings swapped seats. Valentin ignored his father’s icy stare and got into position at his new spot next to his mother. She ruffled his hair and gave him a sweet smile.
“Before we may begin in earnest,” the Steward began, looking directly at Valentin, “I was informed that this Killicia will be of exceptional import to you. And it would be a stain upon my reputation if I did not provide you with something to mark the occasion.”
The room turned on Valentin who was not expecting the attention. What could it possibly be? Something within the chest outside perhaps? Valentin felt that he was now very excited at the prospect of receiving a gift from such an important man. And one cannot fault a boy who has his imagination run away from him when there is no limit to the possibilities that could arise.
“I spent much time in my study thinking of what sort of thing would benefit a boy on his journey to become a man. There were many material options that came to mind but none seemed truly beneficial. But I finally received my revelation,” Steward Tressavie explained. He then pointed at Euna standing towards the entrance of the dining area and all heads turned once again.
“You’re gifting me a woman?” Valentin asked incredulously.
“He absolutely isn’t!” Jeanne shouted, aghast. Valentin found it off putting that his sister seemed to be more shocked than he was.
“I’m not giving you the woman,” Steward Tressavie corrected and cackled at the confusion of the room. Euna herself seemed to be laughing quite heartily herself. “I’m giving you her skills. Her service is in providing culture and hopefully makes you a more well-rounded young man.”
Valentin noticed all the color drain from his sister’s face. Was she about to faint?
“Euna is a troubadour from the provinces near Jervin. She uses a vielle and has a growing reputation for her knack for musical storytelling,” Steward Tressavie continued, undeterred by the constant interruptions to his explanation. “She has recently made her way south and making quite a name for herself. I saw her performing outside of one of the amphitheaters in Briste and thought that something like this would make for a perfect gift for someone of your aspirations.”
Euna revealed the stringed instrument from her wooden chest along with a bow. The material of the instrument appeared to be made of multiple types of timber. Valentin wondered if that in some way contributed to how the instrument would sound.
“The Steward oversells my ability,” Euna responded without a hint of humility. “I benefit greatly from telling stories that the regions of the South are not familiar with.”
“Will you be playing a Northern piece today?” Tiarna Lunoult asked.
Euna nodded. “I will be playing a rendition of a fairly well known story from the Vessaire region in the Herican style. It is titled The Woman of the Hollows. It is similarly known as Origin of the Death Mother Tree. Have any of you heard this story before?”
Nobody responded in affirmation to Euna’s question, including Steward Tressavie. This revelation of a fresh audience seemed to entice Euna greatly. She grabbed a string of bells and tied it around her ankle.
“What is Herican?” Valentin felt the need to ask before the performance began.
“Herican style is a style of musical storytelling where the player speaks the story plainly and uses the instrument at given opportunities to establish the setting and the emotional weight of the scene,” Euna responded. Valentin swore he saw a small smile pass by her lips at his cluelessness of the subject.
When Euna lifted the instrument to her chin and prepared her bow, the first course entered the room. Decorated bowls of glass full of steaming orange liquid sat atop wooden trays. The rare metal utensils had been employed for this meal and two spoons and a knife flanked each bowl.
The first course was pumpkin soup. Valentin sipped the rich soup happily. They had prepared this batch with extra cream and herbs and the flavors danced upon his tongue. As he supped, the music began to play. An upbeat and cheerful tune floated through the room and Euna began to tell the story of the village of Bregan.