“Oy! More booze!”

“Yes, my lord”

An orange haired waitress who was just newly employed at the establishment is passing by, so he barks his orders at her.

After taking a deep bow, she flat-out walks away in an odd manner, as if striking a pose, and Stanley is unable to take his eyes off of her. Is it because her uniform is too thin? Does the owner Lloyd has that kind of fetish? He wonders. One could make out the shape of her buttocks.

“Ooof.”

An attractive derriere is obviously a desirable quality to flaunt with, but this waitress has demonstrated a clear understanding of what constitutes an acceptable interaction between a superior and their inferior through her work ethic. This pleases Stanley a lot.

Stanley himself hires a maid not so dissimilar to the servitor he’s staring at. The only difference is this waitress known as Bella is a lot a beautiful than his maid. The maid is the daughter of his butler, who was a third son of low aristocrat. His wife used to serve Stanley’s household as well.

The family had served his family for the last thirty years. Every one of Stanley’s household matters is being handled by them. As the baronet vaguely conceives about these matters, someone speaks to him suddenly.

“Oh hey, Baronet Barclay. What’s going on? You seem troubled.”

He turned his head towards the source of the voice to see two nobles in front of him.

They have inherited their ranks at the same time, friends who belonged to the same faction. One of them carries a large mug topped with ale while the other held a plateful of nuts.

“Oh! Baron Strauch and Baron Aldiss! Oh…Baron Blackwell is also here. How rare. ”

“Curtis wanted to rush back and but pulled him here. His place is the furthest after all.” A man with dark brown hair that looks like a bowl being turned upside down, answers while sitting himself. He is Scott Aldiss.

Baron Scott Aldiss is a man who lacks the status and prestige expected of a noble of his rank due to his short stature and weird hairstyle. The only aspect of him that matched with his status would be his raiment, so if he is to wear common apparels, no one would be able to tell that he is one with the aristocracy. As it stands, you could convince a large group of people into believing that he is just an actor pretending to be a nobleman for a comedic play. Having said that, his land has over three hundred villagers. Aldiss family has several boats which he rents it out to his subjects. He is a knight, and his ability is the best among the men in the group.

In contrast, Baron Curtis Blackwell cuts an imposing and sturdy figure. The man is thick in every dimension. Moreover, he has good look with a bang coring his face. Though he is a physically menacing man, his fighting ability is beneath the funny looking Scott. Curtis couldn’t even hold his own opinions without getting swayed by others. In Stanley’s eyes, Curtis is more likely to be ordered around than order someone else around.

The third man is the most handsome among them. Baron Leonhardt Strauch has blond hair that reaches his nearly covers his nape. He is good with bow and his family has been the leader of archery division under Guerrin family.

Except Curtis Blackwell whose land borders Redcliffe farm, their demesnes neighboured each other and it is a common sight for them to be working together.

“Are these seats taken?” Baron Leonhardt Strauch often behaves like a real gentleman, politely asking permission before taking a seat.

“Oh, please, do take a seat”

Leonhardt gives a gentle nod and sits down alongside Curtis and Scott. The waitress seems to have timed her entrance perfectly as she walks in with ale in tow.

“Here, cheers!”

“It’s our pleasure!”

According to tradition, the act of clinking glasses together during a toast originated to mix the contents of two cups together, proving that neither were poisoned. Stanley knows of this fact and often uses more force than was necessary.

Alcohol is spilled onto the table.

“Oh!”

Some of it had landed onto Baron Curtis’s clothing.

It would be rude to say that Curtis’s clothes match his appearance, but his garments, while noble-looking, are not fresh and clean. No, it would be more accurate to say that it is reminiscent of a more traditional style, something that Stanley would wear in the past, like a hand-me-down from his elders.

Stanley feels pity.

Despite being mere baronet, what Stanley currently wears are top tier fabrics he had instructed his maid to prepare for him. In other words, Baron Curtis is quite impecunious.

Stanley contemplates the tragedy of the apparent difference in them compared to him as he asks, “So are the three of you here for drinks too?”

“-That’s right, that’s right. We are here for drinks and were pleasantly surprised to find that Baronet Barclay is here too, so we came over to pay our respects! Right?!”

“It’s just as you say, Baron Blackwell.”

“No no no, what’s this nonsense about paying respects? Aren’t you my superior? Comrades who are supporting each other?”

“Hahahah. We are just joking.!”

“It’s just as you say. Now, if you will, please try some of these.”

The man on the opposite end hastily presents the hors d'oeuvres.

“Thank you very much, Baron Strauch.”

“Oh my! We’re no strangers, baronet Barclay. ”

“Understandable. But as I always ask, I’d request that both of you refer to me as Stanley!”

The three shared in a hearty laugh as they downed their pale ales.

“But anyways - Stanley, what has been bothering you? You seem quite troubled just then”

“Just then?” At this point the alcohol had slightly - yes, only ever so slightly dulled his mind, his anger flares back up.

“Ahhhh, those higher ups keep giving me headaches. Oh, I’m talking about the marchioness.”

“Oh, it is really distressed to remember about the meeting.” Blackwell gulp his alcohol while hammering the table with his fist.

“Exactly, it’s completely understandable to be angry over such matters.” Leonhardt shakes on.

Stanley is touched by their agreeing with him.

They are young nobles like him, so is it natural that they could understand his troubles? They too must also be perturbed by the marchioness’s feebleness.

“The three of you get what I’m going through?!”

“Umu, we do, we do. Though I’m not as bad as Stanley, I’ve also had my fair share of experience with the issues you’re faced with.”

“Exactly - looks like we’re out of ale - oy! What are you doing not pouring ale for us!” Scott Aldiss yells.

The waitress, Bella that is summoned immediately brought over some ale straight to them. They raise his mug, now filled to the brim with ale.

“Here, let us toast each other once more”

The mugs are smacked together.

Stanley downs his ale.

Delicious.

He feels as though the ale has never tasted better than in this moment, perhaps it’s because he’s sharing a drink with his sympathizers.

Older members of the new faction chose to distance themselves away from younger ones lately, one reason being that the young noble openly voice up their dissents against the marchioness. That is why they are in such a good mood; they give themselves solace. He is overjoyed to the point of wanting to rub shoulders with them.

“Ah, Lord Blackwell! I’m honored that you’d rub shoulders with me, but your ale might spill. How about you down some of it first and then……oh”

He spilled some ale again. Though it is cheap to them, being so wasteful would be an insult against nobility.

Curtis Blackwell removes his arm from the other noble and drinks in a rambunctious manner.

“Woah! That’s what I expected of you, you can certainly hold your alcohol, am I right?”

“That’s right, as expected of Curtis.”

“Psssht! No no, that’s not true. It’s just that this ale tastes better than usual when enjoyed with outstanding nobles like you.”

“Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable! Lord Curtis would speak such words that fill my heart with joy. As I have a lower tolerance for alcohol, I can’t help but be in awe of your capacity.” Stanley praises him.

“Eh? You can’t drink much?”

They are both still on their first cup and the level of ale haven’t gone down much.

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but as you know, I can find any appeal in alcohol.” Leonhardt Strauch mutters.

"Hoi. You came here every week but still this weak against alcohol."

"I have no excuse. "