Orson, the heir to the titles of House Adelard; The Duchy of Aville and the County of Moutin.
From the moment news of his conception got around, he had the attention of the entire House Adelard and its rivals. Previous to this, Father had been the sole male with Adelard blood running through his veins. This was cause for concern. After all, without a true male dynastic heir, the house would lose its status as Nobles. Women were not recognized as legitimate heirs to any form of noble titles, as such they could only own land, estates and in rare occasions; cities or baronies.
Upon his birth, Father personally took over his education. He was drilled in the ways of nobility, war, court relations, and de jure law.
Looking upon him now, with more wisdom than my body told, I saw clearer than ever, the pressure of the expectations of House Adelard. I could sympathize somewhat. In my previous life, I was born into the expectations of attaining success and being dignified among all peers, any less than perfection was a failure.
His gaze pierced me, his demeanour held more disgust than I had ever seen. He was stiff and proper, even in the comfort of his own home. It weighed on him, heavy as any burden.
I held his gaze for a moment, then promptly bow to him as well, "Brother, my deepest apologies for keeping you waiting. Welcome home." I hold the bow as I wait for his permission to rise. The tension in the room was much, even Oteri had not uttered a word.
A few more seconds of awkwardly bowing and Orson lets out a scoff and pardons me. I whisper thanks and an additional apology to everyone else for my tardiness as I take my seat beside Dagena.
During meals, seat placements were based upon importance to the host. The most important sat on the right-hand side of the host while others sat at the left-hand side. The last person on the right-hand side would be more important than the first person on the right-hand side.
On the right of father was Orson with Oteri following close. And on the left was Galswinth, Dagena, and I. As lowly as I was, Galswinth still had issues with me being included in family meals.
"Now then, enough of that, let's eat," father says, clapping his hands and summoning another round of freshly stirred stew and steamy food.
The servants set the table whilst we all held our hands on our laps. Another custom in nobility. Hands must not be seen before the initial beginning of the meal. Once they had set the tables we look to Father for his signal and permission to eat. In noble customs, it was considered improper and very rude to begin eating before the host or a higher ranking noble.
Of course, he immediately began to eat without a hint of concern to whether or not we waited. But this was part of his deception; multiple times he tricked Oteri, Dagena and I into thinking it was fine to start without his permission.
"Delicious as always, Ymir!" he yelled out through a mouthful. The timid teenage servant girl, not much older than I scampered out of the kitchen to give her bow of thanks.
She was lean, short and potentially beautiful behind the ruffled blonde hair, bandaged eye, fingers, and busted lip.
I looked from her to Galswinth with narrowed eyes, she had been at it again.
Although the idea of a woman's role in the kitchen had not made it to the nobility, it seemed almost instinctual for a noblewoman to envy and spite the attention and praise given unto servants for their ability to put a smile on a man's face with a little steamed meat, stew, and ale.
Father, of course, was aware of the cruel actions meted out against the girl. But it hardly made any difference to him, so long as she was still alive and capable of her job, he saw no reason to interfere. It was the same with me growing up, the man seemed to have no aptitude for love and care, at least not towards anyone I had seen him interact with.
Taking a bite of the steamed meat to console myself in my inability. It tasted delicious indeed, biting into the greasy, peppery and seasoned meat, relishing its tenderness, almost playing with it as stew seeped out with every bite.
The girl was a brilliant cook. It annoyed me that, still, I had yet to have the ability to see her appreciated.
"Orson, we will be holding a feast in celebration of your victory in battle and safe return home. This will be sometime from now of course, as our chosen guests have yet to send back a reply." He sets his gaze on me and continues, his hands, absentmindedly stirring rice with a spoon as he spoke, "Speaking of guests, your brother here has gone through the trouble of meeting with your regiment at the barracks and inviting a few of them, I certainly hope that went well now, Rainald"
Speaking between bites as he often did when eating, I took his silence as he chewed on a particularly delectable looking piece of meat as my opening to respond. Although…
"You what!?"
Orson's abrupt outburst took everyone by surprise, Oteri noticeable disturbed as he began choking on the water he had drunk. I opened my mouth to respond but Orson had not seemed to finish his outburst.
"How dare you? Do you even know the proper etiquette required when addressing a superior, a Knight!?" He jumped out of his chair balled fist, "Surely you have not stained our image with your klutz" he sounded less angry and more concerned as he uttered the last bit.
Notwithstanding the fact that my relationship with Orson never grew past an errand from him and a respectful greeting from him, I never thought him as one to make sudden outbursts, especially in front of father.
With my mouth shut as I did not know fully how to react to his accusations, his face grew grim as he made for another shout.
"Orson…"
Father, still slicing and dicing, shut him up.
"But…Father¬…"
Clearing his throat, father silenced him once more. He took his seat, resigned.
"Rainald, I am certain you didn't address them rudely" Again I had his gaze, "Quell your brothers' fears and give me your report now"
A single bead of sweat ran down my neck. I really didn't want to deal with this. I was dirty, tired and mentally exhausted from the two-way six-hour trip.
Standing upright I took a glance at my moderately untouched food. I wanted to cry. I also hadn't eaten anything all day. Father's half empty plate was not consoling my hunger either; once he was finished eating, everyone was finished eating.
I breathe inwardly and prepare myself, with a strong voice I begin, "Sire, my mission to the barracks was a success, I addressed the men collectively as Special Advisor to the Duke of Aville, they did not protest my claim. I went on to present them with news of the upcoming feast, announcing that a select few would be invited to attend and be granted honorary titles. They rejoiced amongst each other as I called out the twenty names listed out for me by Mathilda. I also relayed to them that a formal invitation will be sent out once a date has been set." I turn toward him and bow, "With this, I end my report"
I let out a sigh of relief seeing the satisfied smile on Fathers face as well as the stunned look on Orson's.
He still had something to say, "Special? Advisor?" He looked at me incredulously, "When did…why…"
"I am curious to that as well, Angilbert." Before Orson to put his words together, Galswinth had finally spoken. "When did such an appointment take place? And why?" her voice was shrill and laced with heavy displeasure and dissatisfaction.
I took this chance to seat and swipe a few pieces of meat and bread into a pouch, if I waited for an appropriate time to eat off the plate while so much attention was on me, I would not eat at all!
Father merely scoffed and finished his wine. "Very well. When? I named him my advisor about two months ago." He wiped his lips clean with a cloth and directed his disaffectionate stare at her, "Why? Because I willed it so, Adrianne"
She spat. "One would think the person who bore you three, legitimate children would be reserved the right to your ear…" She looked to me across Dagena, "Not some dirty, washed up prostitute's spawn!"
At this father was livid, "Adrianne!" he slammed the table, eliciting a whimper from Oteri, "Do you dare!?"
His glare was intense but so was hers.
After what felt like ages, she resigned, but not passively. She threw her chair back and slapped the plates away. "I am a Duke's daughter!" with that she turned tail and left.
Father could only heave a sigh and roll his eyes at her. He too stood to leave. Dinner was over and it seemed they were sleeping separately again.
The servants rushed in and cleared the plates and I began my walk to my room, sad to see the food go away but satisfied with what I had kept aside.
"Rainald…"
Orson…It seemed my stressful day had yet to have the curtains close on it.