I don't keep track of the specific forms, that's what heralds are for. But on my left was a Pinking baroness, and on my right was a Goodskill baron. The rituals were not begun yet, so we were free to converse a little as we waited for all to be seated.
"Baroness," I said to the Pinking woman. "Baron," to the Goodskill.
"Princess," the baroness replied, with a wry smile.
"Milady," the baron said, daringly dartingly glancing down the table's length to the Freckentop invader.
"I fear I shall need to circulate the whole room postprandial and tender apologies to all on my family's behalf," I sighed dramatically. "Honestly I had hoped he would know better."
The baron was courteous and charitable. "He is young and learning, yet. I believe when I was fifteen I would not have known better."
I gave him a smile that I hoped was patient and amused. "Baron, as his twin sister, I am afraid I must reject the implication that he is too young to know better."
He considered that for a second, and what he had just said. "Ah," he said, and looked abashed.
The baroness smiled my way. She was fair-faced, blue-eyed, with a huge mane of incredibly curly red hair. "Princess," she said, "I understand that you and your brother both attend the Academy here in the city?"
"We do, yes," I said. "It's been interesting."
The baron was a gumdrop-shaped man whose dark hair drew itself upwards, and incredibly thick eyebrows. "I imagine that is where you met Enefiat Trazom? I'm not terribly attentive to the talk but even I heard about that tidbit."
"Oh, no, Trazom and I met some years ago, an amusing anecdote involving snickerdoodle cookies," I said with a bright smile. "I've been trying to introduce him to other people, he has trouble meeting others on his own. Ironically his fame gets in his way."
The baroness's eyes twinkled again. "You've met a good number of people at the school, haven't you? Interesting and influential people."
"That's one of the reasons people wish their children to attend," I said with a less sincere smile on my face. "To meet the influential figures of the future."
The baron looked confused. This is common around Pinking House. They are known for being eccentric, especially those near the duchess herself. A certain oddness of behavior, a certain tilted perspective they seem to share. And also, a persistent habit of knowing more than they're told. Plenty of experts have tried to discern where the Pinking leadership gets their information from, but to my knowledge none have ever succeeded.
On the other hand, Goodskill is an open book. They are a cadet house to Grennick, but unlike the manipulative and usurious Greater House, Goodskill is known for good behavior, rigorous moral codes, and a dedication to good works. It seems paradoxical that such a virtuous house should be beholden to such a den of underhanded backstabbers, but the more you learn about both of them the more sense it makes.
The baroness smiled harder. "I think for most of those students, you are one of the most interesting and influential figures that they are hoping to meet. A ducal princess, a great inventor, and a sorceress besides! Who knows what you might do next!"
"I should have you know that I invite speculation," I said. I held my smile, but her too-knowing look was making me nervous. Something about her smile made me directly aware of every secret I don't want getting out.
There was a chiming sound, and mercifully it was time for a prayer, and liturgy. The five priests of the feast moved along the four tables waving censers and braziers, chanting their parables. All of the Greifir heirs looked entirely rapt, their house's respect for religion was baked in deep. The princess looked happy to have someone else be the center of attention for a while. Nathan was watching every detail like there would be a quiz later. I watched them. The baron watched the priests. The baroness watched me.
After that, the courses started to come out. It was a good and proper feast, several courses, but it was also something of a test. By tradition, eating heartily at a saint's feast indicates that you take a lot of that holy energy into yourself, the eating is a form of worship and to eat more is to worship more. But it is also known that any food left uneaten after the feast would go to feed the needy and poor of the community.
So, does one give one's appetites to the gods in worship? Or does one abstain, knowing that the less you eat the more goes to the poor?
The Greifirs all went in with gusto, all of them eating as if this food could exculpate the family's curse. The baron to my right drank water and denied all else, despite his eyes tracking longingly at each tray of hearty offerings. The baroness ate indulgently but not with the same intensity as our hosts.
I accepted a comfortable portion of the appetizer, soup, and entree, but slipped a purse from my sleeve and set a stack of gold coins onto a serving-tray that was set near me. A few minutes later one of the caterers whispered something to the chapel almoner, who graciously took those coins from the common plate and set them aside for the community pantry.
The baroness leaned in close to me. "It's considered bad form to add anything of your own to a saint's feast."
"If I am asked to choose between devout observance, the common benefit, or good form, my first sacrifice is good form," I replied.
The baron looked displeased. "If I had thought to bring coin, I'd do similarly. This looks delicious." He looked down at his hand, twisting a small jeweled ring on his finger.
"Oh, don't do that!" the baroness looked dismayed. "I'll have my man bring coin enough for you, but not jewelry!"
He sighed. "If you loan me coin for this occasion, then that is not me performing charity for the needy, but you performing charity for me. And loathe as I am to deny another a chance to enrich their soul, I feel the best answer here is for me to pauper my appetites for once." He patted his healthy belly, and went back to wistfully eyeing the food but staunchly refusing each portion that the caterers offered.
The Pinking baroness was speaking to several of us about the quaint furniture shop she had just discovered when a commotion broke out at the next table. A man was speaking, and louder with each word until he was yelling, red-faced, glaring at the head of the first table as he rose to his feet and jabbed a finger at her. I don't know the beginning of his sentence, I just picked up at "- all because of the Freckentops and their power-hungry Dominionist allies and the -"
He probably would have had more to say but Petty was seated right next to him, and she rose smoothly out of her seat with one arm swinging upwards. The thud was louder even than his shouting, and the man went down immediately. Which left the whole room staring at my cousin, who was standing there with her fist still raised, following through. She flushed an even deeper ruddy-brown, and hurried to sit quickly.
Porters from the sideboard hustled forward, crouching, and grabbed the unconscious man and improvised a stretcher to whisk him away to a healer. I hoped they got him there in time, I would not like my odds if Petunia Harigold hit me like she meant it.
Instantly the awkward, teeth-gritting strain in the chamber redoubled, everyone working hard not to let another incident break out. We all knew that the man was correct, but that it was bad manners to start bellowing at dinner. Petty didn't deck him because she was defending the princess, but because she was defending the common courtesy. Most of the room was averting their eyes and trying not to stare at Nathan, or Lachel, or Petty, or the porters.
There were not many corners of the room left for people to stare at, and more than my share went to me.
Time to get to work. I raised my hand to my mouth, and gasped. "Oh, gods, did he have a knife in his hand?"
"Well of course he had a knife, we all have knives, it's a dinner!" blurted out a baronet three chairs down.
"Oh, you've never seen someone stabbed at a dinner?" scoffed the countess across from him.
"Probably forgot he was holding it," said some generous soul from the second table. But others were picking up the line.
This could have been an awkward moment that turned into a tense silence with everyone trying to pretend nothing had happened. But now there was a small buzz of conversation.
"He sure looked angry enough," I said, leaning back in my seat. Nods of assent from one or two people, but others disagreed. Perfect.
"Poor Petty," I sighed to the baroness. "She is going to be livid that she was forced to defend a Freckentop."
"Lots of drama in your household tonight," the baroness chuckled. "Your brother and his guest, the cousin and her fist. And, of course, that knife that you noticed."
The baron winced. "Oh, now that girl has to think that everyone here approves of her cousin bringing the throne's daughter here. I've chatted with Petunia, I know her strident opinions about the state of current politics. She would not want to be associated." The shouting and punching had given the tension in the room something to crystallize around, but there was still enough to go around. The hum of speculation and rumor was still undercut by silence. The tension here had been dented, not broken.
I drizzled a bit of spiced vinaigrette over my peas, while the baroness stared in mute horror. "Well, Baron, you've likely spent more time with her than I have. My schedule has not allowed me many opportunities to visit my relations in Hearstcliff. I've gotten an impression of my cousin but you've more experience. I should think that even with their differences she would not want a royal assassinated in front of us," I nodded down the table to the other end.
For a second, the princess was looking down the table at the same time. Our eyes met and clashed. She was disquieted by the atmosphere here, but not as anxious as I feel she ought to have been. I could practically feel the whole room fuming, and even with their backs turned and eyes averted these people were staring at her. If she was this calm and stoic then either she could not feel that simmering resentment everywhere, or Nathan was doing a very good job of soothing her nerves.
Probably Nathan's influence. I remember her being fairly sensitive but easily reassured. But I don't think the game ever gave me the option to bring her to this party. Maybe this is part of the future that I've changed. Or maybe when I was playing this as a game I never blew off the shipping manifest plotline for the Berry Blight to take Lachel to a completely inappropriate party because that was such a blatantly bad idea.
The baroness was watching me carefully still. "Nice earrings."
"Thank you for noticing," I responded.
The baron was looking closer. "Ah, House Pinking's colors, at your ears. An interesting choice!"
The baroness was smirking. "Many would say that the worst place to allow House Pinking, is with access to your ears."
But House Pinking has many reputations. "Just because I don't understand wisdom doesn't mean I don't welcome it," I said.
They are known for being odd... but also for knowing what they are talking about. Many houses have reputations for information. Pailser is the intellectuals, Skyback is the spies and gossips. Aumerje would have you believe they have ancient wisdom beyond description. But Pinking may have some kind of seer or prophet in their family, hidden from the world.
"Terrible taste in peas though," she was saying. "What have you done?"
"Don't knock it until you've tried it," I said, taking another bite. I channeled some owl so I could hear further and pick out several conversations at once. Tuning one way or another, I found that the conflicting rumors were picking up nicely.
The basic dynamic was:
"I didn't see what happened, did you?"
"Well, X was just saying that the shouting man was holding a knife."
"Goodness, it's a good thing that tall woman put him down before he could do something hasty!"
"No, Y had a good look, and said that the tall woman and he were arguing before this started."
"Someone should ask Z about this, I'm sure she knows what happened!"
There's no better churn for gossip than the almost-witness. I did have some regrets about dragging Petunia into my schemes, but at least she was being cast as a hero.
The Goodskill baron leaned in towards me. "You don't believe he was going to attack the princess. Why did you say that?" He looked confused and concerned, he did not understand why I was doing this and he did not seem to think I was the type of woman to start trouble on purpose. He whispered his question while his bushy and surprisingly expressive eyebrows pinched up together in the middle.
What can I say? It needed doing? I'm saving the world one stupid conflict at a time? I'm planting seeds to harvest in a few years? I take my opportunities where I may?
"I just thought the party was rather dull," I lied. He knew it. But he was too polite to call me on it. He looked disappointed, and instead made conversation with the woman at his other side.
The baroness was staring at me, deep in thought, calculating. But she did not call me out either.
When the last course was served, the priests assembled for another speech. There was no dessert, that was not really in keeping with a saint's feast. The devotions were delivered, the prayers were offered, and then the churchmen withdrew and the partygoers assembled for conversation and after-dinner drinks. I went back for the cider, it was non-alcoholic but it looked like a hard beverage.
"Oh, Petty, are you all right?" I asked, just a little too loudly. I hurried over to her and the other two cousins. "That really was quite dreadful!"
"Can't believe I wasted my second-best uppercut on that prick," she said back, scowling. "And I should deliver the best one for you! What was with you gasping out about a knife? I could've sat back down quietly and we could've pretended nothing happened, but instead I had four people ask me if he was going to assassinate the princess! The caterers collected his silverware from the table to keep as evidence!"
I was pretty sure they just cleared his place at the table, but I jumped at the opportunity. "Well, I know the Royal Cavalry Guard have methods for examining intention on weapons," I said. "They are the ones that investigate threats against the royal family, aren't they?"
Wendy glanced around. "Lady Natalie, what are you doing? People are going to talk if you keep saying things like that!" She hushed her voice down, clearly conscious of being overheard.
Bruce had to add his two cents. "If Petty gets a medal for this, they'll make Lachel present it, you know."
Wendy looked confused, Petty groaned in annoyance, and I excused myself away. There's a trick I've learned early:
"I should go, do excuse me," I said, and took a step back. And bumped straight into someone. "Oh, I'm sorry! I did not see you there. I stepped right into your way!" and then with a little nudge I step away and guide them back into my spot, so this stranger is now part of the conversation I just left. It's a great way to cover an exit from a difficult conversation. But it's also a good way to expand an existing conversation. I had a hunch that Bruce was enough of a prankish shit-stirrer to keep generating rumors just to annoy our mutual cousin.
Whispers darted about the princess, about Petunia, about a knife, about violence. About how the Freckentops deserve what they got coming to them, about how the Harigolds have been showing their loyalties lately. And a few venomous mentions that there was no knife, this was just a drunken outcry that boiled over, and that all these stupid rumors were caused by that jealous bitch Lady Natalie, who apparently is a two-faced gossip that enjoys stirring up trouble.
I flitted from knot to knot, renewing an acquaintance here or complimenting a dress there, doing my social-butterfly thing and pushing narratives.
For a little while I used the party and the crowd to keep me apart from Nathan, he was trying to work his way towards me without being too crass about it. I did it just to annoy him a little, and draw things out while I planned my moves.
And then I turned around and he was right there. "Nathan," I said flatly. "Fancy running into you here."
"Why have you been causing trouble?" he asked. He was puzzled, and annoyed, and worried, all at once. Family creates complicated emotions.
I shot him a sharper look. "I'm making trouble?!" I hissed, stepping closer to prevent eavesdroppers. "You're at a Faction function and you brought her and you think anyone here is causing trouble but you?!"
"What do you mean, she's welcome here!" he said.
I had to stare. "Nathan, I love you brother but I know you can read a room better than that! The biggest conflicts in the kingdom are between the Development faction, which is represented by every House that's here at this party and nobody else. And the Dominionist faction, which is led by her father who was not invited. Get it?"
He gave me a sweet little half smile and sparkling eyes. "Natalie, we're all still members of the kingdom here, we can't act like-"
"And another thing!" I hissed. "What are you even doing here?! You're supposed to be out following up on the shipping invoices! You're supposed to pull those threads to see where they go!"
He rolled his eyes. "I've been looking in on that! It's already being investigated by Mother and Father's people, and by the throne's investigators, and various private groups. They'll find answers. They don't need me-"
"Did I tell you that this was your highest priority? That you need to be the hero, here?" I interrupted. "First of all, they're not going to find anything, you are. For another thing, you need to do this so you'll be ready for what comes next!"
"That doesn't make sense," he frowned now. "Listen, we can discuss this later, we'll take a carriage back to campus and we can discuss-"
I wanted to stamp my feet. "I should open my door and take you back right now! Gods, Nathan, this is really-"
"You're acting oddly," he said. "Is everything all right?"
"Nathan, brother dearest, these are the days I have been waiting fifteen years for! I've been sad and still and silent for my whole life because it wasn't time to act yet! Now it's time to act! Yes, I'm acting differently now!"
"A completely different side of you," he frowned again.
"Nope! Same me, same side, except now I'm allowed to get involved, brother!"
He laid his hands on my shoulders. "Really, we can talk about everything on the way home, it's a long ride. But I've promised Lachel that I would show her a good time and that the other Houses were not plotting against the crown. Let me have the next couple hours and then I'm all yours."
And that was the moment I realized that I'm really going to have to murder Lachel Freckentop.