Euphemia of Nussex was literally the last person the Avallachs wanted to see in the busy Midwinter season. She was the only daughter of Marquis Barnabas of Nussex, the younger brother of Orderic’s late wife Annota. Barnabas and his wife were unable to have more children. Therefore Euphemia was their everything and unfortunately spoiled rotten by her over-doting parents. Although her petite build, her big grey eyes, her upturned nose, and her golden locks were indescribably pretty, the beauty regretfully didn’t extend to her character. At least you’ve got to hand it to her that her acting ability was able to cover up most of her flaws. In her own four walls, her selfishness and extravagance knew no bounds though.

“Dearest uncle, you look as dignified as ever.” Euphemia greeted Orderic with a wide smile.

When it came to Parcie she rather turned up her nose at him. Nonetheless she said amiably: “Cousin Parcie, I see that you are as, uh, well-trained as ever?”

Going to Mortimer next, her attitude did a 180.

“My most beloved cousin Mortimer!” Her smiling face was brighter than the sun. “You are even more dashing than in my memories. My word! You must be the most desirable bachelor in the whole kingdom.”

If it hadn’t already become clear from her attitude, Euphemia had a massive crush on Mortimer. Unfortunately it was unrequited – or rather a blessing for the margravial family who hardly couldn’t stand having Euphemia around them at the moment, what more day in and out.

“Oh, nice to see you again, cousin Violant.” the guest ended her greetings snippily. Euphemia regarded Violant as her rival in vying for Mortimer’s affection, the more so as the girls both were about the same age. It didn’t matter how much the other might reject the idea. The feelings Mortimer and Violant had for each other were just at the level of normal siblings after all. The redhead reciprocated the dislike though, albeit for other reasons. She just couldn’t stand her obnoxious cousin.

Violant felt a massive headache coming, but even if she would’ve remembered the nuisance’s visit – in fact she hadn’t – there was nothing she could do about it.

The biggest headache surely would be Mortimer’s though. Although he obviously disliked Euphemia, even going as far as openly giving her the cold shoulder, he doubtlessly would be followed around all day by this bothersome admirer, much to his chagrin.

Euphemia was like a whirlwind causing chaos wherever she went, be it intentional or unintentional. She likely hadn’t done a single constructive thing in her whole life, and when, then it was something like half-hearted charity to keep up appearances. There was simply no way that Euphemia, selfish to the bones as she was, had a single charitable thought in her heart.

Violant knit her eyebrows while looking at her face in the vanity mirror, checking it for wrinkles caused by stress. It had been three days since her distant cousin’s arrival, three very hard days for everyone in Avallach Castle.

Euphemia just had to cheekily stick her nose where it doesn’t belong, thus hindering the Midwinter preparations rather than helping out. Especially as she always knew everything better. In the capital this, in the capital that. That was her perpetual litany.

Just that Avallach simply wasn’t the capital and had other customs and traditions. Not that Euphemia would have been in the capital more than once or twice, but her mother Georgina of Herinald was the daughter of court nobles and had brought the style of the capital to Nussex.

“Just persevere, Milady.” advised Abigail, the young lady’s dumpy human maid who was taking care of her mistress’s unruly morning hair at the moment.

Then she continued spurting chatter as if she was well informed: “Most likely Lady Euphemia will leave after Midwinter and not stay until New Year. We have precedents that she may well overstay her welcome – begging your pardon, Milady, even a single day of Lady Euphemia visiting is definitely a day too much – but not excessively. But we, lordship and servants alike, can count us happy that we don’t have to deal with her on a daily basis. Have you seen Lady Euphemia’s maid, Milady? I have met her by chance in one of the corridors yesterday. What a poor thing she was! Her face was deadly pale as if from overworking, her eyes had lost all radiance, and she wore a resigned expression as if none of Lady Euphemia’s absurdities could surprise her anymore. The gods be blessed that we don’t have to bear with her every single day!”

Violant chuckled. Abigail always knew how to lift her mood. Although the chatterbox of a maid always spouted a plethora of half-truths at best, she never had any malevolent intent and managed in her good-naturedness to disperse her mistress’s sorrows. Although some of the utterances coming from Abigail’s mouth better shouldn’t leave her lady’s chambers, for some of her thoughtless words might come dangerously close to lèse majesté.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Thank you, Abigail.” Violant expressed her gratitude.

Her maid’s encouragement couldn’t change the fact that she had been invited to a ladies’ afternoon party by Euphemia though. Even if or rather because the event was set to take place in the red haired girl’s own home, she had hardly the option to turn the invitation down. Although the afternoon party was designated as an event for socializing among relatives, its true agenda surely would be to remind Violant of her place in the (fictitious) competition for Mortimer’s heart.

“Dearest cousin, I am greatly delighted that you could find the time to accommodate this Euphemia’s whims.” spoke the afternoon party’s host with a big smile.

Alone by stepping into the event venue, Violant felt how her smile she wore for courtesy was at risk of cramping. Euphemia had managed in a matter of hours to turn Avallach Castle’s fireplace room, originally the late margravine’s woman’s chamber, into something indescribably, well, Euphemia-ish. The whole room was lavishly decorated with velvet and silk as if to show the host’s superiority. Violant only felt completely dumbfounded though.

“The pleasure is all mine.” the margravial young lady replied “I hardly could stand to wait for this afternoon since you have gone through all the trouble to prepare all this just for me, dearest Euphemia.”

What she really meant to say was this though: You think I would voluntarily show up to your stupid afternoon party if it wasn’t for you consistently pestering me since yesterday morning? Dream on! If it was up to me I’d rather concern myself with my part of the Midwinter preparations which are coming to a standstill since you had to drag me to your useless socializing event. Go home already, you pain in the neck.

“Please take a seat.” said Euphemia, giving the perfect host. Her smile was as faked as her cousin’s though. “In preparation of this event I have brought sweets and pastries with me that are highly sought after even in the capital. I hope you enjoy.”

Accordingly she thought: You have done well to turn up, you devil’s child. Now let’s do some straight talking. You will never get even a single hair of my Mortimer!

Violant continued her act, gracefully taking a seat on the chair near the fireplace room and tasting the pastries. Lady Alse’s pain-in-the-neck etiquette lessons had borne fruit after all.

“Truly exquisite!” she adjudged.

“Isn’t it?” Euphemia inquired “I could hardly wait to see your pleased face, dearest cousin.”

Ha! Can you now see the irreconcilable difference between us, you country bumpkin?

“I really have to thank you for this treat. But if the chance arises you must definitely taste our local specialties too. I can guarantee that they won’t lose out to whatever the capital has to offer.” Violant cringed internally while trying to play a blasé young noble lady. But it would only be one afternoon, for lowering herself on Euphemia’s level was still preferable compared to confronting her head-on and just fueling her delusions of superiority.

Her true thoughts were: Don’t you dare believing that Avallach is just some backwater place even if we don’t have the strongest ties to the capital culturally. Don’t forget that we are cutting-edge regarding trends from the other march. Those trends are reaching the capital sooner or later after all. And more importantly, how dare you think about what would be your future home if you were to marry Mortimer. Not that he would take you as his wife even if you were the last woman alive though.

“Dearest Violant, you can be certain of many more such treats when I am your sister-in-law.”

As if! I will marry Mortimer and then I will see to it that Avallach becomes the second capital in its splendor. Get lost, you uncouth barbarian. For you and that creepy demon’s pack there will no place in my love nest.

“That would be quite welcome. That is, if you manage to win my brother’s heart though.”

You surely are dreaming! Avallach simply has no need to be the second capital. We are responsible for the other march and that is our very pride. You always try to woo my brother but you don’t put his thoughts and ideals in your eyes at all. The day he marries you is the day of the apocalypse!

“Ohohohoho, you must be joking. Can’t you see that we are already very much in love?”

Can’t you see that I have already won, you nuisance. Go crawl back into that hole in the other march were you originally have come from.

“Mortimer won’t marry you until hell freezes over. Get that into your stupid head once and for all, you useless waste of space. Avallach doesn’t need an unbelievably incompetent margravine like you who only knows how to spend money like water and to play pretend with her little noble lady friends while looking with contempt at the territory she should help govern. You might be right that he would rather marry me, his sister, than some kind of louse like you. Not that I have any interest in it though. Who with her head at the right place would voluntarily marry her sibling, even if he might in fact be her cousin? You better get lost, you scarecrow, for there will be no hope for you until the end of days.”

Oh my! When will the wedding take place, dearest Euphemia? Pray tell.

Euphemia suddenly fell silent, her mouth agape like that of a carp, tears welling up in her big eyes. Only then did Violant realize that she had managed to accidentally leak her true thoughts.

The insulted girl stood up, shivering all over. Then she pointed at her opposite with an exasperated gesture and threatened with a tearful voice: “I will make you pay for today’s humiliation, you spawn of the devil! Mark my words! You will come to regret deeply that you have taken me lightly and insulted me with such vicious intent!”

Immediately after she had spoken, Euphemia stormed off. She surely would try to cry her heart out at Mortimer’s side in an attempt to appeal to him by invoking pity and sympathy.

Violant, however, stayed back in a dumbstruck state. She never would have thought that the afternoon party would end in such a way due to her carelessness, although she had expected some kind of éclat since the whole event was organized with ulterior motives in the first place.