6. Traven
“My goodness.”
Olivier murmured. At the end of her gaze stood a throng of carriages brought by nobles, with servants, coachmen, and soldiers from each noble house gathered together, drinking wine.
“Judging by the number of carriages, it looks like every noble on the western continent is here. If things go badly, I might run into everyone I met at that party in Eliyum and have to rack my foggy brain to recall their family names, digging them up like buried relics while cursing my stupid memory.”
As Olivier frowned, holding her fan wide open to her forehead to shield her eyes from Astar’s intense sunlight, a servant from the count’s family approached and bowed.
“Welcome to the Traven Count’s estate. Please proceed to your prepared guest room. This way.”
Olivier nodded toward Emily, who stood beside her. Following the quiet servant’s guidance, they passed through the entrance, crossed the lobby, and ascended an ornate arched staircase. The Traven Count’s estate boasted tremendous grandeur, befitting a high-ranking central noble family in Ashton. Even compared at a glance, the overseer’s residence in Exangciras where Olivier lived seemed no bigger than this place’s stables.
More like a massive fortress than a mere mansion, the imposing stone building was covered in ivy climbing thickly up its walls, gleaming in the blazing sunlight to evoke a cool sensation alongside the stately atmosphere unique to ancient structures.
“I never imagined I’d end up here. I’ll surely cross paths with Lord Literven, to whom I sent that refusal letter, and Lord Crushross too. The one silver lining is that Lord Crueve won’t be here. He’s a noble of Templton, so he has no reason to visit the Traven Count’s family in the Ashton Empire.”
“Well, the master is a Templton noble too, but he came anyway.”
“That’s because Baron Loren passed along the invitation. Speaking of which, I hope Baroness Loren’s health has improved.”
Olivier worried about Baroness Loren, who had been forced to skip the hunt due to deteriorating health. Just three days prior, a personal letter had arrived from the neighboring Auseciras mining district, requesting a meeting with Baron Belpharos. The baron had immediately set off by carriage for an hour’s ride to the Loren estate. There, Baron Loren had handed him an invitation to the Elsk hunt. When Baroness Loren fell ill with an early-summer cold, and considering the box of wine the baron had gifted before last year’s dinner party, the baron—famous among Astar’s wine enthusiasts—had gladly passed it along.
During the Elsk hunt, the Traven Count’s estate provided unlimited high-quality wine, and even sold it to attending nobles at half the price of Eliyum’s auction house.
When Baron Belpharos consulted his wife with the invitation in hand, the baroness—who was parched for noble socializing amid their dull rural life—ordered Lotte and the servants to pack immediately. Beaming with excitement, she told her husband, “It’ll probably be a gathering of nearly all Ashton’s nobles, so Olivier should scout for future prospects too, don’t you think? We must pray to Isildur that she finds a fine husband.”
The next morning at breakfast, Baroness Belpharos informed Olivier with a smile that they’d be leaving for Astar’s Elsk hunt. Olivier, who had already sent a refusal letter to Lord Literven a full week earlier by post, had frozen stiff.
“Whew, so we ended up coming after all. Massive beasts charging at full speed and plummeting off cliffs, splattering blood everywhere... just thinking about it is horrifying.”
Guided by the servant to the guest room next to Baron and Baroness Belpharos’s quarters, Olivier sighed. Emily, following behind, eyed the luggage bag by the bed, which nimble servants—well-seasoned in hosting this annual grand event—had already swiftly placed there.
“You can sit toward the back where you won’t see the base of the cliff.”
Emily walked to the window and yanked the heavy curtains wide open. A vast landscape unfolded beyond the glass: the rear garden and endless vineyards stretching out behind it. The Traven estate’s backyard featured a large winery, fronted by dozens of oak barrels the size of a grown man’s torso stacked up. Beneath nearby large trees’ shade, tables and simple benches were set out, crowded with nobles and their attending servants.
The Traven servants were plugging casks on the spot and pouring fresh wine into glasses, which the nobles’ own servants bustled to carry back to their masters.
“Hmm, it’s really buzzing. It feels like every noble from Poenneu Street in Eliyum that I saw at year-end is gathered here.”
Olivier, now at the window, murmured while peering down from the third-floor room. She lifted her gaze to the distant vineyards, rows of green vines neatly spaced and shimmering.
Under the clear blue sky, the grapes just beginning to ripen glowed deep green, sparkling in the sunlight. The trip was two days and one night: the first evening a party for nobles flocking from across the western continent to mingle; the next day, the hunt proper—formally called Jump Watching.
Jump Watching exploited the Elsk’s herd behavior: traveling in single file at set intervals, and upon spotting a threat, charging forward under the lead female’s command. Once a year, western continent nobles gathered beneath fluttering tents at Astar Valley’s high cliffside viewing spots, sipping fine wine while watching the massive beasts plummet to their deaths below.
“It’ll be such a gruesome sight.”
Olivier shuddered. Emily responded cautiously.
“Still, they say it’s necessary to cull their numbers through hunting to prevent harm to people. Elsk breed so prolifically they multiply in an instant. Especially around here, famous for vineyards—if the swelling plains herds ravaged them, the damage would be immense.”
“Is that so? Even so, making them fall from cliffs twenty times a person’s height is too cruel. And hosting a party to watch it? Sickening taste.”
With that, Olivier turned from the window to survey the room. The luxurious guest quarters were impeccably tidy. Free of fussy decorations yet far from shabby, thanks to outrageously expensive furniture placed just so— as if the sleekest, cleanest pieces from Eliyum’s Poenneu Street mansions last winter had been curated here.
“Count Traven’s taste is so quintessentially high nobility. That’s why nobles trek all the way from across the western continent to his county for Jump Watching.”
Astar in the western continent lay a carriage ride of three or four hours from Eliyum. Like other regions, it was effectively autonomous noble territory free of direct imperial administration, so it was also called Traven County after its de facto owner, the Traven family.
“Did you know? Count Traven hasn’t remarried in over a decade since his wife’s death. Mom said he’s pushing fifty. With only one daughter, his title and fortune might go to a relative after he passes.”
Emily replied while unpacking the luggage bag by the bed.
“That’s quite rare.”
Having observed nobles’ lives and habits closely as Olivier’s maid, Emily spoke with genuine surprise. With no inheritance or succession rights for daughters, nobles thirsted for male heirs to preserve bloodlines and wealth intact—making Count Traven’s behavior unusual. When a high noble above count rank lacked a son, overripe ladies swarmed for the widow’s spot before her grave was even covered, eager to bear an heir and secure status.
High noble spouses were always in hot demand. Olivier circled the room once more, then returned to the window. Staring at the clusters of nobles deep in socializing in the garden, she suddenly narrowed her eyes, frowning slightly as if focusing on something.
“Emily.”
She called softly. Emily, organizing by the bed, approached the window, where Olivier pointed at the nobles.
“Yes?”
“Over there.”
The two she indicated were tall young nobles. One was exceptionally tall, with a balanced build still filling out. The other was shorter—average male height—but beside the ash-brown-haired tall handsome man, the brown-haired noble’s figure curved with feminine grace and beauty. Both wore large swords at their waists.
“Hmm. At least amid all the old fogies, they’ll be easy on the eyes.”
Olivier’s lips curved up brightly as she watched them.
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To bid farewell to their guests, the baron’s family stood at the entrance, offering polite goodbyes. As the count moved to board his carriage, Baron Belpharos spoke cautiously.
“I’ll be heading to Eliyum for a few days starting tomorrow for the Astar wine auction. If it pleased you, I’d love to send a set as a gift for your next party.”
The count beamed in response.
“Excellent. Quite excellent. I’d be most grateful if you did.”
Satisfied with the baron’s send-off, the count entered his carriage.
Heading down to the countryside tomorrow T_T The conversation where the baron and Baron Loren exchange wine is in episode 31. Thank you for reading. Thanks for the manuscript coupons! +_+ ^^