Clearly, it was the elegance of his attire that made Ribo stand out, as well as the fact that he had come to the ball alone. His arrival sparked a bit of tension among the other noblemen, but when they noticed that Ribo appeared to be two or three years younger than the Baron's daughter, that tension gradually faded away.
Standing quietly in a corner of the grand hall, Ribo observed the gathering with keen interest. The host had not yet made an appearance, but the guests seemed content to wait. For these down-at-heel nobles, such an event was a rare opportunity for socializing.
Most of the adults clustered together, engaging in conversation. Some, growing tired, would beckon nearby servants to bring them a chair. Meanwhile, the younger attendees stood alone, showing no inclination to initiate conversation with each other. Though a few were introduced to other nobles by their parents, they remained silent, their demeanor stiff and reserved.
"This is the life of the nobility," Ribo mused. It was far different from what he had imagined. He had expected the nobility to live in opulent mansions, surrounded by countless servants, dining on exquisite delicacies. The balls, he thought, would be lavish affairs, with fine wines served in crystal glasses, accompanied by a variety of dainty pastries, and with nobles gracefully dancing, displaying their elegance and charm.
But the reality before him was far less grand. While the ball did offer refreshments, the selection was limited to plain water and bland ale, with the only snack being golden-brown cookies that disappeared almost as soon as they were served.
The servants themselves seemed indifferent, some whispering among themselves, others appearing entirely disinterested in their duties. It was hard to imagine how the host managed such a staff. All of this fell short of what even the middle-class families in Southport could offer. The only tangible sign of nobility among these people were their jewelry pieces.
In fact, those pieces didn't even match their attire well. The jewelry, however, fascinated Ribo. Some of it dated back to the reign of Emperor Ledoca, others to the era of Kings Franz III through V, and some to the period of the Ireinean Empire's fragmentation.
While such pieces might have matched the fashion of their times, they looked oddly paired with the formal attire worn at the ball. Some items, like ancient priestly rings, seemed particularly out of place when paired with secular dress.
The most amusing sight was that of a noblewoman, a mother of two, wearing a ring from the reign of King Franz III—a ring meant to signify a monk's lifelong devotion to the divine and renunciation of worldly pleasures. It was clear that these downtrodden nobles clung to these heirlooms in a desperate bid to maintain their dignity.
Just as Ribo was engrossed in observing the various guests, the host of the ball made his entrance.
Baron Lonna, dressed in a sky-blue knight's casual attire, with a red sash draped over his shoulder, cut a dashing figure. His polished leather boots gleamed under the hall's lights. In his youth, the Baron must have been quite a handsome man, and although time had etched wrinkles on his face, his presence and bearing remained among the most distinguished in the room.
The Baroness, dressed in a deep purple silk gown, appeared elegant despite the dress being decades out of fashion. Her fine necklace, likely a family heirloom from the reign of Franz VII, added a touch of historical significance.
Twenty years ago, she must have been a great beauty, enough to captivate the Baron. Some of that beauty had passed down to their daughter, who stood beside her, radiating youth and charm.
The young lady was indeed beautiful, explaining why so many nobles had eagerly brought their sons to the ball, hoping to catch her eye. The Baron engaged warmly with a few familiar guests, exchanging pleasantries.
Once the initial round of greetings was over, the nobles began presenting their gifts, while introducing their sons to the Baron and his wife. The young men, for their part, tried their best to appear refined and charming, hoping to leave a favorable impression on the Baron's daughter.
Ribo watched this spectacle with keen interest. The gifts presented were quite telling; they had to be modest yet respectable, as these nobles couldn't afford to be overly generous.
A simple blue-and-white porcelain plate was one of the more noteworthy offerings, while others presented silk handkerchiefs and similar items. The most unimpressive was a gaudy lacquered jewelry box, which, judging by its wear, had likely been passed around among the southern noble families for generations.
The introductions, too, were a source of amusement for Ribo. Each noble tried to paint their son as flawless, but in the end, they all sounded the same. In fact, given how stiff and expressionless most of these young men were, Ribo thought it wouldn't be far off to say they all looked alike, too.
Finally, once the other introductions were done, Ribo decided it was time to make his move. Some nobles were already pulling their sons for a second round of introductions. Ribo signaled to Ted, his servant, and they approached the Baron. The Baron seemed surprised to see a young boy standing alone before him, without any parent by his side.
"And who might this be?" the Baron inquired.
One of the Baron's servants, who had collected the invitations at the door, leaned in and whispered, "This is the representative of Sir Kayviel Egret Haide."
"I'm Ribo Haide. You can just call me Ribo. My grandfather is old and in poor health, so he can't travel long distances anymore. I'm here on his behalf to congratulate you, Baron, and to wish you and the Baroness a long and happy marriage." Ribo had rehearsed this line many times.
"You're the grandson of Sir Kayviel Egret Haide? I know your uncle, Mr. Eckert, quite well. Why isn't he here?" the Baron asked.
"Our family is small, and my uncle Eckert is the only one of his generation. He manages everything on his own, and he's extremely busy. He had planned to come in person to offer his congratulations, but an urgent matter came up that only he could resolve. He simply couldn't leave, so he sent me to offer his apologies," Ribo explained.
With that, Ribo gestured to Ted, who respectfully presented the gift. The finely wrapped gift immediately drew the attention of everyone nearby, leaving them to wonder what it might be.
One of the Baron's servants stepped forward to receive the gift, and with the Baron's nod, carefully unwrapped the silk covering.
If the beautiful silk wrapping had piqued everyone's curiosity, the contents inside were likely to disappoint. Even the Baron and his wife couldn't hide their dismay.
The brick of tea, sealed in wax, would have looked unremarkable to anyone unfamiliar with its value. It was a dull, dark object with no shine, far from the lustrous lacquerware typically associated with such gifts. Most onlookers assumed it was just another ugly jewelry box, and some even sneered.
This reaction was exactly what Ribo had anticipated.
"Please extend my thanks to your uncle, and give my regards to your grandfather," the Baron said, maintaining his politeness, though it was clear he was unimpressed with the "modest gift."
Ribo barely registered the Baron's words. He was focused on watching the servant's reaction to the gift. As expected, none of the guests recognized the value of the tea brick, and the servant, assuming it to be junk, casually placed it at the bottom of the pile of gifts.
Seeing this, Ribo moved on to the next step of his carefully crafted plan. He said, "Baron, this is a small token of my uncle Eckert's apologies for being unable to attend. The item is quite delicate and shouldn't be crushed. If it cracks, it will absorb moisture quickly. If you plan to store it for a long time, it's best to cut it into small pieces and seal it in an airtight container, preferably with the opening sealed with wax to keep out any moisture."