Chapter 139: A Duchess's Reception (Part 2)

It was some time before I finally raised my head. I hoped, as only the truly desperate can, that when I did, the Princess would be gone and someone else would have taken care of all of my problems for me. Reality was not so kind. When I looked up, Katarina was still sitting there, with that same grin on her face.

"Kat-" I swallowed. "Why are you here?"

"Hmm?" The Princess tilted her head, just slightly. Then she motioned at what she was wearing. I had been so distracted by everything else that I had not even noticed.

It was a uniform. A tunic of deep red, belted in black, with black trim at the collar and the cuffs. It was cut simply, with none of the embroidery or the gems the rest of this tent was drowning in, which was no doubt why my eyes had slid right off it. It was also, I realized, not a uniform she alone was wearing.

I looked toward the sides of the tent, at the tables bursting with food. The servants had returned, and every one of them wore exactly what Katarina was wearing.

It did not take a genius to put those two pieces together. "You…you stole a uniform?" I asked.

"Stole?" The Princess stared at me. "How dare you, my good lady. I'll have you know that I have been employed by the Gilded Ladle for years now!"

The Gilded Ladle was the name of the guild handling much of the logistics for this event. Including the food, and the catering.

"Is she really…." Damian stared at the First Princess with his eyes narrowed. "You are saying this is the First-"

"I am Elinalise Qivaris!" the First Princess declared, one hand pressed to her chest. "And I will be your server for this fine event!"

There was a breathy laugh to my right. That was Sere. Apparently, she was finding this whole set of circumstances amusing. I wished I could share in that. Instead, I leaned over and caught the Princess by her sleeve. "You cannot possibly think this will work," I pleaded. "The Inquisitor was just here. Surely you don't want to be caught. Surely."

The Princess just smiled. "I do not know what I, Elinalise Qivaris, would have to fear from an Inquisitor," she said. Through all of this, she still had not dropped the strange accent. "But, if there were a First Princess here, I suspect she might have some practice in hiding from Inquisitors. Though, she would be surprised that Carrion of all people came here for this." She had the nerve to wink at me, as if this all made perfect sense. "And if she were here, she would be surprised you found her out so quickly."

Well, the pink hair and the pointed ears had made it difficult. But her face had given her away, and after her face, her eyes. There was a sparkle in them, as if she were always grinning at the world. Even now. Even dressed like this. I sighed and let go of her sleeve. "You've done this before, then?"

"Elinalise Qivaris has certainly served tables before. Never at an event this fun, though." Katarina grinned, and then she rose. "Ah, and how convenient. It looks like it's time for the food."

Sure enough, servants had started to move all around us, one or two to each table with a choice selection of what was on offer. Sometimes a noble would give instructions, and the servant would hurry back to the long tables to fulfill them.

"How did she ever allow you t-" I turned back to her, but Katarina was already gone. I saw her hurrying toward the side of the tent. There were a great many servants there, and the First Princess of Arian had to jostle for her place between them. "This is really happening, then," I mumbled. Just to be sure, I pinched my left arm. Yes. I was still here, and this was still happening.

Sere slid her notepad out in front of me. Like her. Well, at least two someones were having fun.

Damian was still watching her go. He slowly turned to me. "Is she….?"

"I wish I knew," I said.

I scanned the tent for the Inquisitor again, and again I found nothing. Wherever that man had gone after the rites, it was not here. Vaelin stirred again in my mind, the way he first had when I had laid eyes on the Inquisitor.

What's wrong, Vaelin?

My Godblade said nothing, because of course he didn't.

Well, given the makeup, and the accent Katarina had not dropped for even a moment, maybe she really was used to this. In which case, it would be fine. Probably. Hopefully.

There were bigger concerns. Over at Violet's table, it seemed something had finally happened. The two Counts and the Countess were huddled close together, whispering. Violet sat across from them with her arms folded and her chin raised high. Curiosity tugged at me, but even my Gift was not going to pick one whisper out of this much noise from that far away. Oh well. I would have to ask her later.

At the table closest to Violet's sat the four Dukes. They had chosen to sit together, then, rather than with any of their retainers. My father was making broad motions with one hand, a sweep that could only have been a sword. Retelling some story, then. Perhaps about his battle against that Hero. The other three seemed to be listening with the proper amount of attention. Even Julian Greenward. He frowned at something my father said, and turned, and his eyes found mine across the tent. He smiled. Then he turned back.

I wondered what he made of all of this. Whether my father being awake had been any kind of surprise to him at all. Given that our entire faction had known for days, probably not. It was a shame House Veyne was so traditionally honorable. What I wouldn't give for a spy or two in-

"Make some room. Can't fit everything like this!" I turned, and Katarina stood before me carrying a tray that was very nearly bigger than she was. She stepped forward. She wobbled. For one moment the whole thing tilted toward the floor, and Damian was on his feet and under the far edge of it before catastrophe could truly strike.

They set the tray down on the table with a small thud.

There were four plates on it. The first held some kind of red meat, dripping with yellow sauce that smelled faintly…sour? The second was strange bread. It had been cut into slices, and every slice sagged under an absurd amount of cheese. The third was rice, with a pale fish laid over it. The last was the largest of them. It was a tower of flat, round golden-brown discs stacked so high that the whole thing leaned. Beside it sat a small bowl of white cream.

"Ka-" I paused and corrected myself. "Elinalise." I could not believe I was playing along. "This is too much for just three people."

She gave me a very serious smile and plopped herself down in the seat at my left. "But the perfect amount for four people. Isn't that just great?"

If I could have seen myself in a mirror, I was sure I would have found a vein bulging on my forehead too. "A strange server, to sit and eat with the people she is serving. One might think she is not a server at all."

Katarina was already reaching for one of the plates. The one with the rice. She pointed absently at her ears. "Alas, I am an elf. And everyone knows elves are strange. They all have such strange senses of superiority no matter where they are. And then there is you," she said, and shoved a spoonful into her mouth. "With Illiana's blade, famous for severing the gaps between the rich and the poor. How benevolent of you to have your server eat at-" I could not make out the rest of it past the food. She chewed, slowly, and swallowed. "Relax! I know what I'm doing."

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I was starting to think she actually did. That only made me more nervous. "If someone finds out who you are, don't blame me." Katarina either did not hear this, or heard it and did not care. "Or if you get hurt, either."

"She won't let me get hurt," Katarina said. "Don't worry about it."

She. The First Sword was somewhere close by then. I scanned the tent and found her nowhere, which was about what I expected. Katarina might have cajoled her way into coming, but Aziah would never have agreed unless she was certain she could keep her safe.

"Now, come on, let's eat." Katarina looked around, and her gaze lingered on Sere. "You like sweets, right? Try these. The lady called these 'pancakes.' She swore up and down you would like them."

I sat back in my seat and sighed. Sere had already reached for the tower. Wait, there were pancakes in this world? That was not the greatest surprise I had ever had, but it was a surprise all the same. They were probably from Layers, which meant the lady in question was the representative I had meant to find. I would have to go and introduce her to her single greatest admirer, if her single greatest admirer left anything behind to thank her for.

Of the dishes still left, I found myself reaching for the strange bread. I poked it, and the whole thing nearly melted under the weight of my finger. This could not possibly be healthy. Oh, right. "Sere, don't eat too much, okay? If these are anything like the pancakes-"

Sere had covered a half-eaten pancake in so much cream that the entire thing had gone white. I assumed the half she had already eaten had been buried no less thoroughly. She beamed as she ate. Even as I watched, the half that remained disappeared. If someone had told me her Gift had to do with eating, I would have believed them. "Just…just try not to choke," I sighed. Oh well. It was fine. Today was a day of celebration, wasn't it?

We ate. I had thought the cheese was just a single layer on top of the bread. It was not. The bread was made out of warm cheese, so soft it was a miracle it still held its shape. When I took a bite, the whole thing just…dissolved, and the taste of it was richer than it had any right to be.

I had never cared much for food. I was particular about my tea, but that was about it. Perhaps I would make a singular exception for whatever people called this strange cheese-bread. I would have to find out who made it.

The dinner wound down. Eventually, even Sere's small tower of pancakes slowly but surely disappeared. Katarina was silent for most of it, which told me that the food was particularly good. Even for a First Princess. I noticed a share of looks thrown our way, and at the 'elf' especially. So I did the only thing I could think of, and made a show of it. I reached across the table and poured the Princess a cup of water with my own hand, where the nearest tables could not possibly miss it. Let them think Lady Veyne was being strange again. Lady Veyne was always being strange. It did not take long for most of those looks to slide off. It seemed Katarina had been right in her guess after all. Just how many times had she done something like this?

Finally, Katarina rose and collected all of our plates. She looked around and sighed. "Hmm. I suppose I have to go join my coworkers." The tray still wobbled faintly in her grip, but without the food on it, it seemed she could manage this much. "Until we meet again." She winked at me.

"Sure?" I thought of myself as somewhat eloquent, at the very least. Katarina might not have a Gift, but perhaps she had an Artifact that robbed the people around her of their words, so that she could say them all herself.

I watched her go. She did not go far. She traded the tray for a pitcher, and then she was filling people's mugs. She walked directly to the four Dukes and filled their cups one by one. My father smiled up at her and said something I could not hear. None of the others so much as glanced her way. Only when she was gone did I remember I still had to breathe.

Damian looked oddly grave, sitting across from me. He had his chin resting on one hand, and he was glaring at the table. He had said very little over the meal, answering the Princess only when she asked him something directly.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

He stirred and looked up at me. "I'm just thinking. Maybe our great Kingdom is in for dark times."

"You know she's not the heir, right? We have a Crown Prince. Though, given that the First Princess is like this…." I trailed off. That was not a sentence that needed completing.

I looked over at Sere, who was licking cream from her fingers. She was a surprisingly clean eater. Despite how much she had put away, I could not find so much as a crumb anywhere near her. Maybe Sere lived by the philosophy that there was more to eat if you did not waste any of it. "And did you have fun, Sere?"

Sere grinned and nodded. Then she yawned and leaned back in her seat. If anyone in this entire tent had earned a food coma, I supposed it was her.

There was a thud, followed by the distinct sound of splintering wood.

Every murmur in the tent stopped. Every head turned. I had a very distinct feeling that I knew just where that sound had come from, and I was right.

Violet stood before what had once been a table, her arms folded, in front of her three Counts. "Excuses, excuses. Is that all you three have? Seriously? Maybe it's no wonder you all became bloody useless. Sounds to me like it was a matter of damn time anyway." She said it loudly, and in that silence, I am sure that quite literally everyone in the tent heard her. "I am giving you a gods damned chance. So either take it, or I'm going to find someone who will!"

One of the three, Count Caelum, rose from what remained of the table. He looked down at the girl for a long moment. Then he moved past her. He walked down the center of the tent to the entrance, and then he was gone, and through all of it he did not so much as look behind him.

Count Caelum had been the head of Magical Implement research, back when House Indri still had any Magical Implement research to be the head of. Of the three of them, Julian had swallowed his duties the most thoroughly. It was not strange he had walked out. It was only strange that the other two had not already followed him out.

But they were going to. This was…this was a disaster. I had told Violet roughly what each of her Counts likely wanted, and no more than that. I had trusted her to be herself. Now, with a shattered table at her feet and every noble in Aelheim staring at her, even I wondered if I had trusted her one step too far.

The other two rose. Violet had just ruined her relations with her most important retainers on the very day of her investiture. Everyone was watching. I could even see a lone Scrylens in the far corner, raised and pointed her way. This would be in every paper before the sun rose tomorrow. I had half risen out of my own chair before I caught myself. There was nothing I could do from here that would not make it worse.

Thalorin and Mirella looked at Violet for a long moment. Then Thalorin bowed. Mirella curtsied, and it was a perfect curtsy. I stared. The two whispered something to each other, and then something to Violet, and whatever it was, it did not carry. Violet slowly nodded. She tugged at her braid. Then the three of them were moving together toward an empty table on the adults' side of the tent, and the ruined one was left where it lay.

Slowly, the tent came back to life. Within a minute, I saw people rising from their seats and making their way toward Violet's new table. Not many, but more than none.

"What just happened?" I asked no one in particular.

"Just Violet being Violet?" Damian offered.

I could only nod at that. I'm sorry for ever doubting you, Violet!

Eventually, the orchestra swelled, and the far end of the tent began to fill. Couples drifted towards that place, until it seemed like a fifth of the tent was just dancing. Lords and Ladies moved freely from where they had initially sat to other tables. Now that the formalities were done, this was the part of an event like this that actually mattered. All that was left was the politicking. Some of the sons and daughters crossed over to the other side, even as some of the parents crossed over to ours.

Sere slid her notepad in front of me. Can I have more pancakes?

I stared at her. At the empty plate, and at the small smear of cream at the corner of her mouth that she had somehow missed. "Sere, you are going to explode."

Sere frowned. Then her eyes went very wide, and her lower lip pushed out by a fraction, and she looked up at me through her hair. Where she had learned to do this, I did not know. It was a Gift more dangerous than the one she had been born with. I held out against it for perhaps two seconds. Then I looked at Damian.

"Take her to the other tent? They might still have some."

"Very well." Damian rose with a sigh. "Come on, Sere. Though I have no idea where you're putting all of this."

Sere was already on her feet. She took his hand and all but pulled him toward the entrance, and I watched the two of them go until the flap closed behind them. And then I was alone.

Perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps it was past time I did some politicking of my own. I looked across the tent. The four Dukes still sat together at their table, and Violet still sat at hers, with a small but growing knot of people standing at her shoulder waiting their turn to be heard. Good. That, at least, was going well.

I scanned the tent. I spotted Seraine at her own table, surrounded by fawning ladies. Whenever Seraine said a word, the four women seated with her all laughed. My gaze lingered on her. Hers was a smile even warmer than Cordelia's, and somehow colder all the same.

I should probably go over to the Dukes' table first. That would let me know what they were talking about, how my father was doing, and what was wrong with Duke Wardell all at once. Three birds with one stone. Perhaps I should also figure out where that Inquisitor went?

Someone slid into the empty seat at my left. I did not turn. A son of one of House Veyne's many retainers, perhaps. I did not have time to entertain-

Then I smelled lilies. I turned. Cordelia sat beside me with her hands folded in her lap and her back perfectly straight, and her smile was not the perfect one. It was the other one. The small one.

"We have a chance to talk now," she said quietly. "If you have the time."

I did not see Alexander Bulwark with her. I looked around the tent, and saw him nowhere. The how and why of it was a mystery that did not matter. Not right now.

"Always," I said.