4. The Maid
Perhaps because a high-ranking noble had come to visit, everyone in the baron's household was on pins and needles, anxiously watching the faces of the guests who had entered the manor.
Upon arriving in the drawing room just like last time, the count and countess took their seats at the head of the table first, followed by the baron and baroness settling onto the sofa. Then the accompanying guests sat on the sofa opposite them, and finally, Olivier took her place on a separate single armchair. Emily stood demurely behind Olivier, her head bowed modestly.
The table was already set with due formality: four three-tiered trays for the tea party. Each plate on the trays was piled high with scones, sandwiches, an assortment of cookies, and neatly sliced pieces of cake. The spaces in between were filled with dishes of finely cut fresh fruit and colorful macarons—likely whipped up by the exhausted cook under relentless prodding from Sarah, the head maid, since the early hours of the morning—arranged on white plates.
Just like at any noble tea party, the table was formal, and teacups filled with deep Lapsang tea, its strong smoky aroma wafting through the air, were placed for each person. Once the count and countess lifted their cups and took the first sips, the others began drinking their tea and conversing.
The conversation started with a safe, common topic—the sweltering summer weather on the western continent—before moving on to local gossip and rumors, and eventually to family updates.
"By the way, it's summer break, yet I don't see your son anywhere?" the countess asked about Olens' whereabouts, and the baroness smiled faintly as she replied.
"Leon says the whole city gets so excited with the summer festival next month. That's probably why Olens only comes home during winter break. Spending his youth in this tiny mining village must feel dreadfully dull, after all."
The countess nodded and turned to her grandson. "The young master of this house is such a polite and handsome young man. It would have been nice to meet him this time—we're the same age, so we could have gotten along well. What a shame, Killian."
"I see," Killian replied simply in agreement, then quietly sipped his tea.
The countess turned back to the baroness. "This place really lacks entertainment for young people. Even going to Eliyum for some culture takes a full day. Our grandchildren seem to be getting bored too—they're spending next week in Eliyum, then coming back to Aucessiras to say goodbye before heading to Leysha. We're planning a modest party before they leave. It’ll promote the mine we’ve acquired, so we’re inviting not just acquaintances but nobles from across the western continent."
Olivier's eyes lit up at the word "party." Noticing this, the countess smiled kindly. "Olivier, judging by your face, you must love parties. At your age, who wouldn't? I'll make sure to send you an invitation to the dinner party in Aucessiras a week from now. The house is being spruced up right now. It'll be grand, so feel free to look forward to it."
Olivier shyly bowed her head in response. As the countess had singled her out mid-conversation, all eyes in the drawing room turned to her—including one that wasn't on Olivier at all.
Emily, who had occasionally met those quiet, deep dark brown eyes before, quickly averted her gaze to the floor. At first, when their eyes had met in front of the entrance hall, she'd thought it was a mistake—that he must have been looking at Olivier. But this encounter confirmed it wasn't. His face was turned toward Olivier, but his gaze fixed not on the girl shyly seated in the chair, but on Emily standing behind her. Feeling his unwavering stare boring into her face made her profoundly uncomfortable.
"Parties are a wonderful opportunity for young ladies to mingle with fine company, enjoy pleasant conversations, and show off their beauty. I thought such chances were nonexistent on the western continent, so thank you for inviting my daughter in her stead."
The baroness replied graciously on Olivier's behalf. The pleasant exchange with the countess continued for a while longer. As time passed, the food on the table gradually disappeared, and when the baron offered the count some wine from his collection during their discussion on mine operations, the two rose and headed to the study.
The countess then smiled and gave the baroness a knowing glance. "It's too harsh on the young ones to make them sit quietly among us old folks." She called Olivier in a warm voice. "Olivier, why don't you show our guests around the garden? It's nothing grand, just a small one, but there's cool shade from the summer sun and a long bench to rest on."
Olivier stepped out of the drawing room with the guests, and Emily followed behind with three or four servants from the count's household.
At first, the four walked together through the garden, but soon Ilroy and Evril struck up an animated conversation, naturally leaving Killian and Olivier to walk side by side, excluded from the talk.
Walking next to the handsome yet cold and rigid Killian made Olivier too nervous and shy to speak, so the two proceeded in silence.
After passing a short path, they reached the tree-shaded area with the long bench, where the group sat down. Beneath the afternoon shade, the midday heat had slightly receded, and a gentle breeze slipped in, softly tickling their hair.
"I heard you're two years younger than me, Miss Olivier. Will you be entering the Academia next year?" Evril asked, lightly brushing back the hair fluttering across her forehead.
Olivier nodded shyly. "Yes. I'm eagerly looking forward to the vibrant life at the Academia. As you can see, things here are so quiet."
"The Academia is always bustling during normal times, but it gets as silent as this place during exams, so you won't have time for homesickness. I'm in the same Eximia class as my brother. If it's not too rude, may I ask which class you're aiming for?"
This was news to Emily too, piquing her curiosity. She knew the Academia was a school for nobles, but hadn't realized it was divided into classes.
Olivier answered in a small, embarrassed voice. "...I plan to apply for Medio."
"Oh, I see."
Evril's lukewarm response trailed off into silence. From her reaction, it was clear that Olivier's intended Medio class was far below Eximia.
To break the awkward silence, Ilroy brought up a topic any young woman would welcome. "The dress and earrings you're wearing today suit you perfectly. They really bring out your beauty, Miss Olivier. Among the women I've met since arriving on the western continent, you're the most beautiful. Isn't that right, Killian?"
Killian glanced briefly at her earrings under Ilroy's expectant gaze, then replied indifferently. "I suppose."
Emily frowned, sensing Olivier's mood plummet at his apathetic response. The young lady had spent the entire morning primping in front of the mirror, only to receive such a curt reply.
As Emily, standing behind Olivier, shot Killian a glare full of displeasure, their eyes met again. Killian stared at her for a moment before turning back to Olivier. Then, with a slight upward curl of his lips, he spoke.
"The blue dress complements your fair skin splendidly, Miss Olivier. Today, I've been forced into the awkward position of retracting my long-held belief—upheld for over a decade—that no beauty could surpass my sister Evril's."
After Killian uttered words no one had anticipated from his cold demeanor, Evril openly furrowed her brow, Ilroy looked surprised, and Olivier—the recipient of the praise—blushed shyly on both cheeks.
"...Seeing these two beauties side by side, your words ring true. But since they pursue different kinds of beauty, I wouldn't dare say which is more beautiful. Evril has a noble elegance, while Miss Olivier here has a pure, innocent charm."
Ilroy glanced at the visibly downcast Evril and spoke soothingly. Killian offered no reply, maintaining his silence.
Unlike Evril, whose displeasure was plain on her face, Olivier beamed with joy. In the profoundly awkward atmosphere, Ilroy fidgeted, stealing glances at Evril.
Just then, a servant gestured from afar. Ilroy sprang up gladly. "Looks like it's time to head back. Let's go."
Back at the entrance to see the guests off, the baron's family bid them a courteous farewell.
As the count was about to board his carriage, Baron Belpharos cautiously spoke up. "I'm heading to Eliyum tomorrow for a few days to attend an auction for that Astar wine you enjoyed earlier. If it pleased you, I'd love to send a set as a gift for your next party."
The count smiled broadly. "Excellent. It was superb. I'd be most grateful."
Satisfied with the baron's send-off, the count entered his carriage. The Countess Loren took the baroness's hand regretfully. "I truly enjoyed our conversation today. Shall we meet again at the next party? A few gentlemen come to mind who'd suit you perfectly. I'm sure it'd lead to fine companionship."
"Yes, I'll look forward to it with pleasure."
After embracing the baroness, the countess boarded the carriage, and the white carriage departed. Killian, Ilroy, and Evril followed, promising to meet at the next party before riding off in theirs.
Once the count's guests had all left, the baroness asked Olivier how the meeting had gone. Olivier said it wasn't bad at all, flashing a grin, and when Emily mentioned that the two young men had complimented her appearance, the baroness's face visibly brightened.
The baron, who had quietly listened nearby, draped an arm around his daughter's shoulders and patted her reassuringly. "If things progress well with those young men, it couldn't be better. They're among the empire's most eligible bachelors, after all."
The baroness turned to Olivier with an excited voice. "You'll need to make a strong impression at the party in two weeks. A connection to the Loren family or Locksenfield would be ideal, but even if not, it seems quite a few high-caliber nobles will attend. Your father’s heading to Eliyum tomorrow, so we should order a new dress via him. Shall we go upstairs and pick a style? I have the latest catalog from Trevere in my drawer."
Olivier let out a loud cheer at her mother's words. "Wow, Trevere? That's the most popular dress shop in Eliyum! You're really ordering my dress from there—even though it's not for you?"
"Of course. You're debuting in society soon. I was planning to ask Leon's aunt Rosalyn for your debutante next year, but starting a bit early here isn't bad. Meeting Ashford nobles first won't hurt. It's not an opportunity we'll get again in Templton, anyway."
Seeing Olivier's light steps as she headed inside with the baroness, Emily followed with a joyful heart of her own. It had been a rewarding day, with all her morning bustle finally bearing fruit.