12 gmr
The carriage stopped in front of the castle, extensively decorated and filled with high-class nobles and, of course, the rich.
Felix advised Iris to stay close to Hecate. He was not as tense in her presence as he was earlier. Diantha would come later, alone. Iris agreed; she would find being with Hecate peaceful, especially how stiff this place felt.
“Yeah, stay with me. We will eat, dance, and sing.” Hearing Hecate’s words made Iris immediately regret the decision.
“I think I would rather find a quiet corner to hide,” Iris replied. If she knew anything about these kinds of parties, solely from tales told by Winny, it would be tiring and pretentious. She would not engage with people there. Or rather, they would not engage with her.
Their carriage stopped in front of the red carpet. A servant opened the door, and Hecate jumped out—she was happy to be released from the bindings. Iris followed behind her. A man seemed to be outside to help her climb down but it turned into an awkward gawk as he stood on the right side. Hecate, of course, pulled her into the castle before she could feel any embarrassment from the situation.
“Let’s find a seat,” Hecate said, her hand clenching Iris’s tightly. Was she nervous?
“I’ll go meet with my cousins,” Felix excused himself. In this party, every noble in the state of Gracia was present. That meant all the vassals of Lancaster and the other two houses, except for any member of her personal Knight Legion. She had left them home to defend the estate in case of a siege, though she did not think it was likely to happen.
“And you?” Hecate asked her.
“I’ll be with you, of course,” Iris replied.
“Great!”
The hall was divided into two parts, with half the hall being the first part and the second part being one step above the first part as if to show the disparity between where they stood. At the end of the hall were stairs leading to the second floor. To the right was a snack area, and to the left, a stage was erected with seats laid out for the nobility to sit.
Hecate made a beeline toward the seats, not even greeting anyone. She was silent. As she stepped onto the upper part, a voice interrupted.
"Ah, behold who has chosen to join us at last—Hecate 'Raven' Meredith. Even after casting a shadow upon her Lord, she possesses the audacity to present herself in the gathering of gifted and loyal vassals.” His tone was condescending and loud enough for others to hear. He spoke with an air of superiority, a smirk on his face as he watched Hecate shake and take a step back involuntarily.
A twisted laugh escaped as he looked to his side at another magenta-haired boy. This was followed by a few more laughs among the people. The mocking laughter was directed at them, or more specifically, at Hecate. He was dressed in a red suit with an insignia, ‘Flower stabbed by Knife.’
Iris did not like this situation. It was evil to make Hecate feel humiliated. Hecate squeezed her hand and looked at her with a smile. “Senior Reeds, my lady is very much proud of my actions. If your Lord, however, finds preserving your dignity shameful, then perhaps you should evaluate whether you're a vassal or a slave,” Hecate spoke gracefully and calmly, unlike her usual self.
Iris had not expected that sharp reply. Hecate did not seem like someone capable of thinking rationally in the face of such an intense situation.
“How will she be ashamed?” Reeds began, unperturbed by the comeback, “When all she ever does is murder unsuspecting and innocent blood relatives, and, of course, strips in front of the Roundtable. How far has the Lancaster’s fallen, barbaric vassal and a whore mistress, truly a magnificent combination of lowly Kreens.”
Iris felt her blood boil. She did not like what he said about Diantha. Iris liked her. She took a step forward, knowing she couldn't harm him physically, but that didn't mean it would be her fault if his mind couldn't handle her presence.
“No, Iris, let’s just leave. They want me to hit him so they can disqualify me,” Hecate spoke at the top of her voice, “After all, they know that even with all the stipulations, rigging, and underhanded methods, they are incapable of beating me. Let them cry.” Hecate pulled Iris, yet Reed stepped in front of her.
“Iris? What kind of name is that?” He shoved Hecate aside, “One, two,... Six stripes, don’t tell me!” His eyes widened in horror, “Is your lady so mentally impaired that she thought this runaway slave could pass as Level 6? Or did she really sell herself to a Level 6, and he tossed this broken thing as payment?”
He puffed his chest, trying to appear as big as possible in front of Iris, who barely reached his chest. Was he trying to seem intimidating? “Hey, slave! How dare you enter this sanctuary? Go and clean the stable in the back.” He snickered, the scowl on his face making it very tempting to just go for a punch. Along with him, half the hall erupted in laughter. Few people were uncomfortable, the unrelated party and others loyal to the Lancaster house had their heads down and fists clenched.
Iris, again, had the urge to make this man disappear from existence. She was not angry, just repulsed. ‘Don't burn everything to cinder,’ Hecate, whose veins were visible on her face from anger, repeated in a low voice. Iris thought she would deal with Reeds and his entire family later.
“Let’s go,” Iris sidestepped and pulled Hecate along with her. “You’re lucky that I’m bound to a treaty. Had that not been the case, your entire house would have been erased from existence. Should you utter another word, I’ll erase your house and the house you hold loyalty to.”
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The hall was eerily silent as they made their way to their seats. Reed did not approach them, his ghostly face told everyone he had been done in for the night.
Soon, the hall was filled with music and chatter again, though it was far from lively, except at the table toward the center where Reeds and most who had laughed earlier had gathered. Iris very much wanted to return to the streets and feel the warmth of ordinary people.
Hecate was not particularly enthusiastic about eating anything, for which Iris ironically found herself grateful. The food from last night still had her belly full. A very concerning matter, except Iris thought it was within reason. Even within the Labyrinth, if she ever found a single untainted fruit, it would last her weeks. She did not have a fragile physical body without a reason, after all. To Iris, it was bizarre that people ate three times a day and that much.
Felix returned soon, and he was not in any better mood than Hecate. Iris could imagine he might have had a worse time than them. “Hey! How did your greetings go?” Hecate asked, feigning cheerfulness.
“It went… lukewarm. Even my cousins had a hard time in this city due to the non-violence treaty. The Laurents are unusually proactive about this; it seems the Inspector is sidelined in this ordeal.”
“I can tell…”
“I don’t understand, How does Reed think he will get away with insulting someone like Lady Diantha?” Felix voiced, sounding hopeless.
“They believe Lady Diantha would be stripped of her title, so it is no risk. Until the tournament is done, Lady’s hands are bound, and that worthless pest can say anything he wants without consequence.”
Felix stared at Hecate, his mouth gaping comically. “Are you Hella? When did you become so smart?”
“Hehe, I am always smart; you’re just realizing it now. Master gave all the lectures yesterday,” Hecate proclaimed proudly. She was back to her usual mood.
“Still, how can they be blatantly disrespecting the Grand Duchess?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll beat the heck out of him after the tournament.”
“Is he not participating?” Iris questioned. She was very hopeful to destroy his pride, and if she had a chance to do it in front of an audience, even better.
“Nah, he’s Level 2, no way he will even qualify in the prelims,” Hecate replied and laid her head on the table.
Soon the performance started on stage, but Iris didn't pay it any mind. Her thoughts still lingered on what Hecate had said about Reed. He was not Level 2; she could tell from a glance that he was much more than that. She didn't understand his existence. She would ask Lady Ilona about it, hoping she, who was staying here, would have an idea.
After the final performance of the night was over, everyone clapped, the performers bowed and took their leave.
...
Now, it was time for the entrance of the heads of the three houses and, of course, Inspector Huang, 13th in line to the throne.
He stood atop the stairs. Huang was an old man with a belly big enough to fit a dozen of Iris in it. His bald head shone under the light of the chandelier, and the excess mass on his face covered his eyes completely.
“Welcome back, everyone, to another year of the Trinity Festival. Today, we officially begin celebrations for another prosperous year of Gracia, even though Sangfroid has been doing it for weeks already,” his words were graceful and pleasing to the ears. Iris shook as she tstruggled to process both his appearance and his voice at the same time. “But, first, let us welcome the leaders of our humble yet worn-out home.”
Everyone stood and gave a bow as he descended the stairs, his short legs struggling to support his oversized body. Iris did not stand; apparently, as a Level Six, she was exempt from most of the formalities. Except in the presence of the Emperor, when she would have to behave like everyone else. Diantha had explained this to her while doing her hair.
Huang gestured for everyone to sit down.
The first to enter was a tall man in his fifties, his grey beard and sturdy body gave him a commanding and wise presence. He looked calm and kind. Everyone stood again. Iris briefly met eyes with the man. Well, he just glanced at her, the only person in the hall who was sitting.
Iris wasn't sitting to mock him or his power; that idea didn't cross her mind. She simply failed to grasp the tradition of standing in respect for someone so... ordinary like him. She would gladly stand in respect and bow if it were Ilona or someone similar.
“Greetings, Lord Lambert.” Everyone whispered in a practised manner.
The man took the stage, “Thank you for such a warm welcome, please don’t stand on ceremony. Today, we are celebrating another year of prosperous standing in this state, so let’s make a toast in the name of our Mother, Grace Lancaster.” A servant presented a glass of wine, “Cheers.”
Everyone in the hall followed suit.
“Now, I shall make haste, for others to say their piece,” he gracefully left the stage and took a seat beside Inspector Huang.
The second person to follow was Hestia Laurent, a woman in her thirties. Her presence was attention-grabbing, from her high-slit dress that left little to the imagination to her bold makeup and hair. Everything about her exuded an intoxicating invitation, one that none dared to accept as they neither had the courage or status.
Everyone stood again, although Iris noticed a few people had lowered themselves behind the table, their forms somewhat quivering. She wondered what that was about. They had stood just fine when the old gray man had entered.
…
Hestia Laurent's eyes did not miss anything. She knew what they were trying to hide but cared little. She also noticed someone who wasn't standing—an unknown figure, unfamiliar to her. Hestia did not know this variable, but she dismissed the thought as she noticed the person was blind. Hestia was magnanimous, and she would not make that pitiful individual's existence even more miserable. Ignoring the unknown person, she climbed up onto the stage.
..
Laurent didn't bother having others sit down. She looked down at everyone as she began, “Dear Vassals of Gracia, it is another auspicious festival to commemorate our mother’s birthday. Today we are not of the Three Houses but children of Grace. We are famil—”
Iris stopped listening as she felt the hollowness in Laurent’s voice. She didn't consider them anything, let alone family. Her voice lacked the warmth that Winny or Mayumi had when they talked about family. Iris found it insulting to have to listen to her.
After half an hour of nonsensical, fake flattery to her ego, Iris grew tired and just climbed down from the stage. She didn't bother waiting for the people who were still bowing to sit down.
But, as soon as she sat, everyone else decided to do the same.
“She was doing this to make Lady Diantha wait, that—” Iris pretended not to hear Hecate mutter the most vile thing Iris had ever had the opportunity to hear. Hecate was right, but not completely so. It wasn't just to make Diantha wait, but also to provoke Hecate. They were trying to make her angry. To the caster, anger was poison when casting spells.