Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 206

The Queen's Tea Party

Connie exited the room and saw Sebastian standing nervously before Lihua, who was staring him down.

“She is asleep now. When she wakes up, tell her that I’ll be waiting for an answer.”

“An answer for what, Mistress?”

“She’ll know,” Connie replied bluntly, before describing what the woman was suffering in gruesome details.

“C-can you heal her?”

“I will try. But I do not make any promises. If she had let herself be examined by Healers or Clerics before it got to this stage, she might have a chance. But at this stage, her chance of living is very…very slim.”

“I – I see,” the Head Butler deflated upon hearing her answer.

“That’s that then. Contact me only when it’s important.”

“…” Sebastian put on a tired smile. “Why don’t you stay awhile, Mistress? I have some refreshments prepared.”

“I’ll have to decline,” She answered swiftly. “I’m a very busy person. I have something else to do after this.”

When they were back in the mansion, Connie gave a few brief instructions to Lihua, who immediately left to do her bidding.

Connie then called out to Arryn, who appeared as if out of nowhere. Connie smiled at her movements, which told of her hard work. “Arryn. I want you to personally watch for any changes happening to the Steelheart mansion. Especially take note any sign of correspondence with outside forces.”

With an audible clasp of hands, Arryn confirmed her order.

Illumca had not been home for a few days; and despite being busy with her work, Connie missed her presence near her. It felt…uncomfortable.

Presently, Connie was on her way to the Palace in a Spring-themed suit. Lihua had made it clear that she was not to wear her usual garments to the Queen’s Tea Party and made her wear a simple pastel coloured dress suit with a fitting cream vest. She had complained that if Connie were to willingly wear a dress, she would have much better options. But as the blonde youth had no desire to wear anything that could make her feel the wind between her legs, the concerned Head Maid had to relent.

She brought with her, Martell, who would be acting as an attendant. He was sitting languidly in front of her, his eyes moving rapidly as he scanned the writings on a small booklet.

“What do you think?” She asked. While they were in the carriage, Connie gave Martell a small booklet in which she had jotted down her thoughts and values. Things that would be added to the teachings of the Questioning Heaven Sect.

“It’s…a bit hard to understand, Mistress. The thoughts you poured into this book wouldn’t easily be understood by the masses.”

“Ah, I thought so. I’ll have to trouble you to dumb it down so that laypeople could understand.”

“Leave it to me, Mistress,” the boy said with pride. “When I’m finished, even the dumbest man on Grea would be able to understand your marvelous teachings.”

“One step at a time, Martell.”

It was not long before the carriage was over the bridge; the small bumps of the uneven street cobblestones replaced by the smooth clacking of the palace courtyard. “We are here, Mistress,” Martell said. He got off the coach and offered his hand, which Connie took lazily.

Already, a number of carriages bearing different coat of arms could be seen on the courtyard.

A servant came over to them and greeted them with utmost politeness. “Greeting, Lady Steelheart. We are glad that you are able to join us this fine afternoon,” with the same tone, the servant added. “However, this Tea Party is invitation only, so I must ask that your attendant wait in the room that we have prepared. There will be refreshments prepared for them.”

Martell nodded and said. “I’ll see you when you are finished, Mistress.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” the man smiled and called a young footman over. “Please escort Mr. Martell to the South Parlour.”

Martell was mildly surprised to hear that the manservant called him by name, but said nothing further.

“This way, please.”

After the use of the Dragonbane Cannon, the Mana contained within the prized back garden was depleted. Not even weed would grow on it. To save face, the King ordered that a new garden was to be made at the east side of the Palace while the old garden was made into a training ground. This was the fact that Connie gathered through her brief conversation with the manservant. Of course, he was not using those exact words.

And so, Connie was brought to the East Garden. The Queen had planted roses of all kinds in there, as she was following the current trend. Their heady fragrance was muted by the cool weather. Connie shuddered to imagine what would happen when Summer came.

As soon as she arrived at the venue, all eyes fell onto her. No one made a move to greet her, as if she was something that needed to be avoided at all costs. Or perhaps it was because they did not know what to think of her.

Hostility, curiosity, indifference. Ah, there it is. The High Society. By the gods, it’s like looking at a microcosm of the Calendian factions. Only in the forms little girls trying to look like adults.

As she walked, she spotted Henrietta, who was about to stand up to greet her, but Connie shook her head and signaled for her to stay.

Connie was led by the servant to a table which was located at the back, where insignificant Nobles or new Nobles were seated. Clearly people with ill-thoughts about her was the one who planned the seating.

This works for me, Connie thought to herself. I can see everyone from here. From where she sat, she could see that the garden had been decorated with pleasing, white colours and ribbons, with the scent of black tea and sweets that tantalized the senses.

Other than that, she could also see the things under the veil. The fact that the daughters with Noble-leaning and Royal Family-leaning families were seated only with their own people. And those who were supporters of the Hero or Neutrals were seated with the other two factions, as a way to suppress them.

She might not be able to say it with one hundred percent certainty, but by the uncomfortable body languages some of them had, she hit the mark.

There were six girls seated around the table. As soon as Connie took her seat, some of them looked incredibly awkward and were pointedly trying to ignore her.

“Good afternoon, Lady Steelheart,”

“G-good afternoon, Lady Steelheart.”

There were two exceptions, however. A spirited looking woman with light green hair in simple, but well-made blue dress, and an awkward one with wheat-colored hair who was wearing an old-fashioned lacey dress that was a bit ill-fitting.

“Good afternoon,” Connie said, rather surprised. “I’m afraid you have me in a bit of a disadvantage. May I know your names?”

“I am Meredith Arden, from House Arden. And this shy one over here is my good friend, Cathy Morrisey of House Morrisey. Our families came into Nobility as Counts not more than two generations ago, so we don’t have the prestige of being an old Nobility. That’s why we are sitting here at the back.”

“M-merry! Don’t say that!” the girl named Cathy mumbled rather loudly as she nudged on her friend’s side.

“Hehe, you’re correct, Lady Arden. But, that kind of thing should not be spoken out loud.”

Though the boisterous girl seemed not to care, it was clear that she said that to break the ice.

“You can call me Lady Cornelia.”

“But you are the heir of a Dukedom! We are several levels under you in Nobility. It would not be appropriate.”

“My dear, I thought that I’d have to be content on sampling the sweets alone for this event. For you to be approaching me, is a welcome gesture. Think of this as my personal request.”

“That’s great. Then you can also call us comfortably.”

“My thanks.”

“And, although I might not look like it, I’m privy to all of the gossips regarding most of everything in the young ladies’s circle. Ask me anything!”

While Connie was enjoying tea and chatted with her new friends. A young girl in very expensive white dress and well-groomed hair came towards her.

She opened a golden-rimmed fan and covered her mouth as she greeted Connie with a voice that grated in Connie’s ears.

“It has been a while, Lady Cornelia.”

“It has been indeed, Lady Serin.”

The moment the girls on the table saw her heading towards Connie, most of the them made excuses to gracefully run as far away from her as possible. Meredith, however, stayed out of morbid curiosity. Her pitiful friend, unfortunately, was slower on the take and did not manage to utter any excuse, and by now it was too late for her to leave, as doing so would invite undue attention upon her.

“You’ve skipped so many events these few years, I thought you’d skip this one as well,” Serin spoke with words dripping with sarcasm. “And wearing trousers like men, too.”

“I’m not aware that there are rules on the invitation that discourages trousers. Or perhaps I was wrong?”

“…it should be implied,” Serin said, clearly incensed by her rebuttal. “You are a lady, despite everything. Perhaps you’ve been too busy to learn proper etiquette doing Junnaveil knows what in that…what’s the name of that little town in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know much about the countryside, Lady Serin,” one of Serin’s followers answered, laughing behind her fan.

“Why yes, thank you for asking!” Connie said with a spirited smile. “I was indeed extremely busy with my territory. Eradicating Demons, curing the townspeople people from drugs, beheading an Ur-Nagud. You know, very normal stuff. Perhaps my deeds were not noteworthy enough in your eyes, but I do try my best. What about you?”

Serin was planning to ridicule her about how Connie reduced herself to living in a town in the middle of nowhere. She did not expect for her to nonchalantly rebuff her and countered with a question of her own. If she was to answer honestly, she would be compared with the hateful blonde. And she could not have that.

“Lady Serin is a refined, cultured young lady. She has no need to concern herself with such matters,” Lady Julia, who was standing beside Serin answered.

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed that matters regarding Demons and their invasions are everyone’s concern. Please, accept my apologies.”

The fake apology infuriated Serin further. While she was thinking of a retort, Meredith - who had been watching the scene with all the innocent look she could muster – let slip a smile when she saw another group of girls making their way here. Ooh, here they come.

“Good afternoon, Lady Cornelia,” the young girl made her greeting with a friendly smile. The same smile turned into a cold indifference the moment she uttered Serin’s name. “Lady Serin.”

The lady leading a posse of the opposition was a beautiful, ginger-haired girl with a prim bun and a pastel green dress. Her eyes were as green as grass meadow in spring. Her posture was a bit hunched.

“Oh, if isn’t Lady Courteney. I thought you’d be too busy with your paintings to attend.”

“Perish the thought, Lady Serin. I wouldn’t dream of missing a party your people have arranged.”

“I think you’ve made a mistake. This is the Queen’s Tea Party,” Serin replied curtly.

“Oh, my. Perhaps it is my imagination that Lady Cornelia was seated very far from the front? She is the daughter of a Duke, and that means, our peer.”

“Mayhaps there is a mistake?” Serin answered, her fan had started to warp with how tight she was holding it.

Connie watched the two traded barbs with amazement. Unlike with Connie, Serin did not bother to hide her disdain towards the Lady of the Ainsworth House and attacked without restraint.

Before it got too heated, Julia tapped on Serin’s elbow and whispered in her ears. Serin glanced at the guards that had started to come in and spoke. “It seems that the party is about to officially start. We should return to our seats.”

“If Lady Cornelia wants to, I would be glad to have you join us at the front,” the green-eyed young lady said.

“I am perfectly fine here, Lady Courteney. Thank you for your invitation.”

“Very well. Let us return,” she gave friendly nod before returning to her seating.

“Well, that just happened,” Meredith was having the time of her life. Clearly, she enjoyed it more than she enjoyed the sweets. While her friend was positively sweating cold sweat. It was the first time she had experienced such hostility.

“Didn’t even take a glance at us. Hahah!”

“Who was that?” Connie asked Meredith as she sat down.

“That is Lady Courteney Ainsworth. Second daughter of Duke Oliver Ainsworth, the head of the Royal Family’s supporting faction. She has been spending a lot of time in the Capital lately due to her sister’s recent marriage. She’s a very gifted painter. She was even commissioned by the King to paint the Royal Family’s portrait.”

“Hmmm,” Connie sat back and took a sip of her tea.

“An interesting person, that girl.”

Ten minutes ago, in the Audience Chamber of the Palace, The Queen was giving the final instructions to the servants when she spotted a wheelchair rolling into the room.

“Aunt Theodora,” The Queen said, a smile appearing on her rouged lips before she came forward and embracing the old woman tightly.

Countess Theodora was a well-known figure in the literary world of Calendia. Her husband had gone first into the embrace of Junnaveil many years ago, and she, as a proud and loyal wife, did not remarry and took the education of her two children into her own hands.

She was the Queen’s Governess when she was little, and her care was reciprocated by the Queen, who never stopped calling her Aunt in private.

Ever since her daughter left home to follow her husband to Al-Khemiya, and her erudite son took office in the Tower, she led an idle life in her mansion, accompanied only by some trusted servants. Her sharp wit and sharper tongue were famous in the Noble circle, though she had mellowed out somewhat.

The Queen then got up and spoke to the old servant pushing the wheelchair. “Richmond.”

“My Queen,” the old manservant bowed to her Queen with respect.

“I’m afraid you have to excuse me for not bowing, my Queen,” Countess Theodora said.

“Of course, Aunt Theodora. How have you been?”

“I am confined to this horrendous wheelchair and my joints ached on cold nights. But other than that, I am of good cheer,” the old woman answered. “Though, I wouldn’t entertain the thought of coming here if it wasn’t for you. I’ve had enough of my fill of Palace matters.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you this time. But it has been a few trying months and I think an event such as this needed a bit spicing up, as they say. That’s why I am going to hold a Poem Recital Competition, with you as a surprise judge.”

The two reminisced of old times as they walked the hallway to the East Garden. The old woman glanced through the window into the East Garden and saw a gaggle of young girls with rosy cheeks and pastel dresses; and dread came over her.

“My Queen, I think I’m having second thoughts,” she said with an appalled look.

“Come now, Aunt. They might not be as skillful as the wordsmiths in your circle. But there were some promising girls. Although the trend is moving onto a more straightforward style of prose these days. I think you would approve.”

Theodora replied impatiently. “My dear Queen, sometimes things should be left well alone. Junnaveil forbid I should listen to another of those variations of inane poems made by inexperienced little girls,” the old woman said, closing her eyes and massaging her temple. “I’m old now, I should be spared such torture.”

“Oh, come now, Aunt Theodora. They are not all that bad.”

“And once again I am reminded of why I envy your optimism.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s not spend all that energy now, shall we? Just…try to be a bit civil, at least take your witty retorts to a reasonable degree.”

“Oh, very well. Anything for my favourite student,” the old Countess gave a resigned laugh and patted the Queen’s hand.

“Let me announce the start of the party. Then I will introduce you as a surprise guest,” The Queen laughed politely. “It will be a wonderful party, I’m sure.”

As soon as the Queen vanished into the garden, the old woman gestured to the manservant pushing her wheel chair with urgency.

“Richmond? Be a dear and sneak in some of that liquor on you into my tea, will you? I shudder to think how I’d survive the oncoming onslaught of bad poems coming my way.”

“Milady? I’m not sure I understand.”

“You’ve been serving the family for years, Richmond. Surely you don’t think you’ve managed to hide your flask from me that long?”

With a stunned look, the old gentleman nodded. “I’ll…put in a few drops.”

“Very big drops, please. Glugs, even,” the old woman said before bracing herself for the next few hours of cruelty towards words.