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Journal of an Adventurer
Arriving at the Count's manor

Arriving at the Count's manor

There are the gate guards, being all guardy. I really dislike this, but I do have a piece of paper saying that I can be here. A stern guard holds out a hand and says, “Excuse me, sir, but the ball does not start until three hours after dusk.”

Need to wear these sorts of clothes more often. “Ah, my good man, I was summoned by Esquire Ludwig to come at four. Is he around?”

“Esquire Ludwig. Yes, he did mention that four individuals were arriving early. May I see your invitation, please?” I pass it over. He looks at it, looks up, and nods at Stillwater. “Head in and follow the page.”

Like magic, a page boy wearing something even more ridiculous than me appears. “Please follow me.”

Just like sheep, we move through the mansion. So many things, so pretty. It must be good to be rich.

Stillwater elbows me and whispers, “Lone, let me lead, okay?”

Gunnar grumbles, “Yeah, don't want your stupid mouth letting things slip, Halfy.”

“Sure thing, I feel a little out of my depth anyway surrounded by all these pretty things. I mean, really, it must be nice not worrying about food, shelter, or money.”

“Excuse me, sir, it would be better if you kept those types of opinions to yourself. There will be important people here tonight, and you do not want to make enemies.”

“Look, kid—”

“My name is Phillip Isenhart, not ‘kid’. I advise you, sir, to show respect to everyone you meet tonight. Even a page.”

Stillwater steps forward and elbows me in the stomach. Well, that hurt. She says to the page, “I'm so sorry, Lord Isenhart. It was not my stupid comrade’s intention to insult anyone of the court.”

This kid is related to the Isenhart family! My big mouth.

“No need, Sergeant Stillwater. And it is Page Phillip, not Lord Isenhart. I’m merely here to explain to you the proper decorum required at the Grand Ball tonight. Even though you will be seated at a table with lesser nobility, it would be inappropriate not to demonstrate proper dining etiquette.”

“Well then, we thank you for your guidance, Page Phillip. And it is now just Joan Stillwater. I left the Watch.” He looks shocked.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

We enter a small room where a table has been set for one guest. There are four glasses, four plates, and way too many knives and forks. What in the holy of the most Holy are we doing tonight?

“Please take a seat. I will go through each course that will be served tonight and which utensils are to be used.”

I look at Gunnar and WayWocket. Neither seem to be fazed by this. “Phillip, I have to ask, why four glasses? I mean, I really only need one, maybe two. I assume ale and wine should not be mixed.”

“You are correct, Master Solo.” I was called Master—very gratifying! “They are for ale, white wine, red wine, and dessert brandy. The servants will keep them filled. If you do not want something, simply hold your hand over the glass and they will not pour.” He demonstrates that to us.

“Can I not just say, 'I do not want wine?’”

Gunnar and Stillwater roll their eyes at me; WayWocket is just spacing out. “You are stupid, aren’t you, Halfy?”

Phillip shakes his head. “Do not interact with the staff. It is their duty to be unseen.”

Stillwater adds, “This is high society, Lone. The staff are not allowed to converse with the guests. They can lose their jobs. This isn't some downtown tavern, so just control yourself.”

“It seems a bit stupid, Joan.” She gives me a look of pure malice. That is more like it! That dress was starting to make me feel like she was not my Stillwater! “Sorry, hand over glass. I have got it.”

“May I please continue?” We all nod; well, except for WayWocket, he is still off with the fairies. “Good, there is much to go over and only a couple of hours before you have to enter the ballroom. For the starting dish, you will be using these ...”

The best thing for me to do now is just nod. So stupid, all this fluff. Yes, out to in, hand over glass if grog is not needed. Use bowl of lemon water to wash fingers and table linen to wipe hands. Such a waste of time. Damn rich people.

“Now I would like to go over table conversation; what is appropriate for a formal dinner.”

What? “You mean, we are not supposed to talk like normal people, Phillip?”

Stillwater looks about ready to cut me down to size. A glance from Gunnar. “Bloody Abyssus, Halfy!”

“Do not give me that, Gunnar. I do not know anything about this sort of thing! Where I was raised, nobody cared about this.” I shake my head. “Sorry! It is hard for me to grasp this etiquette affair, but I will try my best not to make too many mistakes, okay?”

Stillwater looks at me with sympathy, then WayWocket pipes in, “Tis’ no vexation, Dawn. Heart and Soul are guides to the true path.”

Concerned looks from Stillwater and Gunnar at WayWocket. Gunnar says, “Way, make sure you treat this like patrol duty, okay? Sober and quiet.” Tears drop from WayWocket's eyes, but he nods silently. I have no idea what is happening.

“Please, Page Phillip, tell us what sorts of topics are appropriate.” Stillwater always gets us back on track.

“Simple things, like weather or travel, but keep it away from politics and other risky matters.” This make me feel like a bug, watching this kid being more mature than me. You would think living like I have I would be the older one, but that is what it is like to have duty. “As you all do not have a title, you will be one of the first to move into the ballroom. My father will greet you and then you will mingle with the other guests until dinner is called. The award ceremony will be held after. Let us go over each course and the cutlery used, again.”

Great, how long will this take? I need an ale!