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〈 Chapter 8 – Stumped 〉

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*Filthy woman*

That was what Prince Roland thought of the partner whose hand he was grasping. Her hand was oddly cold and clammy, and despite his desire to discard it then and there he maintained his complacent escort. Her needlessly garish attire begging for attention made it unpleasant for him to look at her, and her hair ornaments irritatingly jangled as they walked.

Some of his distaste for his fiancee came from her resemblance to his own step-mother, Queen Medea. The fundamental flaw that both these ghastly women bore was their obsession with authority, status, power, and pride. Despite their excessive selfish desires, which lurked just beyond the unpleasant glints in their eyes, they both outwardly seemed sycophantic towards him. Behind that exterior show was their true nature, vile and overbearing. Perhaps, if he was lucky, these two witches would tear each other's throats out.

Though, even if he scorned his fiancee there were no outward shortcomings to ridicule. She fulfilled and exceeded the requirements to be his partner. Garnet's upbringing and noble rank was of top quality, her abilities were second to none, her presentation in high society was one of elegance and grace, and her magical inheritance and lineage was one of great power. Blessed in many ways, it was clear that she was an overwhelmingly favoured candidate for engagement. However, that was the present analysis of her competency. The truth was that the engagement had been finalized far in the past. There were many other viable partners who had all been put aside, with the only reason being that his future marriage was highly political and Garnet best fulfilled all criteria. Somehow the ducal House of Valeria had ingratiated and bound themselves to his father's, King Albert Ulric's, machinations.

Garnet. He once thought that it was possible to accept his engagement while ignoring all the glaring issues, but his fiancee's nature was still repulsive and barring.

Two weeks prior he had received a peculiar letter. After tearing open the unsightly letter bearing the crest of the House of Valeria he began to unenthusiastically read it out of obligation. By preference, he would have personally thrown the letter into the garbage, but instead, he opted to burn it in a fireplace for secrecy.

The letter was somewhat cryptic, but the general gist of it was that his fiancee had an accident and was recovering her health. He couldn't accept such limited information and had personally written to the Duke for more details. In addition, he leveraged his own channels in an attempt to uncover any hidden information. However, all approaches led to the same conclusion.

*What nonsense is this?*

At the time he was simply unable to accept the ridiculousness of the message. He had been informed that his fiancee, Garnet, vicious and competent, had fallen by accident into a river off a bridge during the winter, which resulted in severe illness and a coma. Ludicrous, ridiculous, preposterous and inconceivable, Roland thought that the story should have stayed in the river it came from, drifting far, far away in the currents.

Skeptical of the findings, he had shaken his head wondering if it was supposed to be some kind of ruse or ploy. If there had been any point in informing him, then it had been to summon him. Though his feelings had made him want to disregard everything and not waste his time, he soon found himself forced to visit the Valeria Duchy due to propriety. He wasn't able to ignore his marriage partner. Whether the message was true or false he had to go; it was an obligation he couldn't afford to ignore.

Unwilling as he was, all the preparations had been made for him to travel safely to the estate. The trip was kept strictly private and he had arrived promptly to find the very ill girl in question greeting him with her family.

Yes, walking beside him, hand in hand, was a previously comatose girl who had only recently had a successful rehabilitation. Truly, what was this nonsense, and truly, why was her hand so fantastically cold and sweaty!

 

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Roland soon found himself seated at an expansive dining table next to the foolish girl in question. It was draining for him to maintain the illusion of goodwill towards his fiancee's family, but he was present. Their endless chatter towards him had gone off from the formalities at the start to much less appetizing conversation about trivialities. It was also clear that they intended to impress him with the banquet. They were hosts obsessed with his status and thus they spread the table with a wasteful amount of food and finery. Even many royal banquets would have to compete with the plethora before him. However, what drew his attention wasn't the mindless chatter of bootlickers.

He had been noticing the silence next to him for quite some time now. Watching the girl to his side with curiosity and bafflement. Normally Garnet was the one who was the most irritating: put bluntly, she was a heinous offender always begging for his attention. On the contrary, she seemed to be keen on avoiding him and speaking as little as possible. Her wandering eyes were more complicated. She had been fervently looking around the room at all the attendees while trying to seem disinterested. Roland began to wonder if there was something to her gaze, concern, and silence, but no matter where he looked, he was unable to see the same issues; nothing was out of place.

Her off-kilter behaviour, it bothered him. It was as if she was anticipating that something was about to happen with unease and her face that was devoid of even her trademark feigned smile made things worse. As he watched her eat salad with her desert fork he felt irritated and baffled from the sense of wrongness and difference he couldn't explain. He also noticed that she had strangely finished drinking the majority of her wine, which was highly unusual since she had only ever had a mouthful during the toasts in the past. After all, the wine itself was more for formality, and ceremony.

She was starting to become such a distraction for him that he had lost track of the dinner conversation due to his attention being drawn to the suspicious activity next to him. It was at one such suspicious moment, when he locked eyes with the pair of deep red gemstones next to him, that an event occurred. Both parties had paused, but Roland noticed that in her moment of distraction a single piece of meat was sliding off the spoon she held in her rigour mortis hand. The lone chunk of meat fell dramatically into her bowl of stew causing resultant messy splatters.

Her eyes went wide and broke their visual exchange. Rotating her head back and downwards to her bowl she placed her spoon down and fearfully lifted her gaze to find several people who weren't so engrossed in the conversation awkwardly avoiding eye contact with her.

Perplexed. He was perplexed.

She sat silently while sporting a stoic visage. Thus dinner ended with Roland unable to know what he should think of the strange dissonance.

 

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"In spite of her illness, my daughter's behaviour is inexcusable your highness."

The Duke spoke apologetic words to Roland. Was the reason due to the previous night's dinner party? No. It was due to breakfast, morning tea, and lunch, all of which Garnet had been absent from.

"It's fine. My only desire is that she rests well and doesn't push herself pointlessly."

He gave a refreshing smile as he attempted to gently allay the Duke's worries.

"Thank you for your magnanimity."

It was indeed magnanimity. He had spent several days travelling to the duchy for the sole purpose of visiting his ailing fiancee only to find her absent from his short visit that would end at his evening departure. He would be so very lonely if he was unable to see her one more time, and that is why he found himself in front of her room door.

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

Under normal circumstances, a man should never force himself on a lady's door unannounced. Under normal circumstances, it would be prudent to send a servant first to give the other party time to prepare. Under normal circumstances ...

There were people in the room. His acute sense of hearing told him so, and because he was a gentleman he had knocked and announced himself.

"This is Roland. Is my fiancee well enough to see me for afternoon tea before I depart from the duchy?"

The dead silence that had persisted from the knock was broken after a protracted delay.

"I-I will be able to have afternoon tea with you shortly your highness ..."

Without bothering to reply he walked away. The nearby unsettled servants who had accompanied him could manage the particulars.

A drawing-room had already been prepared specially for a tea party of two. The warm afternoon sun shone through the arched windows and he sat down waiting with the full expectation that his company would arrive promptly. None dared to break the tranquillity of the room: it would at least be impossible for a servant to speak considering his own obvious and voluntary silence.

The first sound anyone heard was the creaking of a chair as he leaned back making himself more comfortable. The second sound, after quite a while, was footsteps. Finally, after having been avoided for so long he could properly have a meeting.

The silence and stillness served two purposes. The first purpose was to be a form of respite since he was wearied from the incessant sociability of the Duke and Duchess. The second was a form of admonishment for his fiancee. Everyone was already waiting just for the tardy girl to show up. Her conspicuous entry into the room broke the tranquillity and subtly communicated a message of how she had neglected him through absenteeism.

"I have arrived for afternoon tea, your highness."

He turned his head to watch his fiancee Garnet perform a lacklustre curtsy. Was she really so unmoved to share afternoon tea with him or was it that her presumptive rehabilitation was still running its course?

"I've been yearning to see you. Please, hurry and take your seat."

The words were more sarcastic and corrosive than he had intended, but she quickly sat down in the seat that was pulled out for her by a servant.

He sat without bothering to make small talk. It was more interesting to just watch this strange, mute, and evasive incarnation of Garnet. He certainly didn't want to break the silence he had personally crafted for naught. The impetus was heavily on his partner to start the conversation, but she never did initiate until the very end.

The sound and light rumbling of a tea trolley entered into the room. The young brunette maid that manned it began to diligently, nervously, and clumsily serve tea. Frankly, it was disappointing to watch, and just as he was expecting for the interloper to disappear he instead found her pushing the trolley out of the way to the side of the room and taking her place behind her mistress Garnet ...

*What the hell?*

He looked around, but nowhere could he find any other maids serving Garnet. It was only this mysterious and maladroit brunette.

Specifically, he had been looking for the maid Teresa, daughter of a count and family that was loyal to the crown. Could Garnet have become aware of it, aware that Teresa had been ordered to watch over her on his behalf? Is that why only this new maid is here?

Though his thoughts went on a tangent due to his alarm his mind returned to the afternoon tea. Neither Garnet nor himself had touched their tea.

Naturally, as a member of royalty, he had been waiting for Garnet to drink first, but something was wrong yet again. When offering to a royal it is customary to pour oneself a cup as well and take the first drink. It was a formality from a time when poisonings were more prevalent in high society. So then, why won't she drink?

Garnet had always been one to firmly adhere to all formalities whenever she was with him. He didn't understand any of her motivations in forgoing.

He exchanged a look with one of his retainers before picking up the cup. The probability of any poison willingly served at a ducal estate, especially by his fiancee, was non-existent, but the real reason he took up the cup was impatience.

As he savoured his first mouthful that peculiar feeling of consternation washed over him, the same feeling that led him to his perplexed state the night before. The tea was ... surprisingly bad. Yes, there was a bad taste left in his mouth.

Well, he had anticipated such a situation from the start. Waving his hand all the servants in the room began to leave to give them some privacy. The single maid Garnet brought with her looked around startled before confirming through eye contact with her mistress that she should also leave ...

He had done away with all the distractions and regained control over the situation. It was now just a simple and private discussion with his beloved fiancee.

Unambiguously and straightforwardly he decided to get right to the heart of the matter. Using an affectionate and concerned demeanour he put on an appropriate face and questioned her directly.

"Garnet, I've been troubled during my stay. Something has been burdening you these past two days. As your fiance, and as someone that cares about you, I should know. You don't have to bear your problems alone."

Of course, he didn't expect a real answer, but an attempt was free of charge.

"I'm ... I sincerely apologize. I have felt incredibly ill ever since the accident. Though my health had greatly improved recently I may have been pushing myself too strenuously."

What came out of her mouth was a deflection as insipid as the tea; it was extremely unconvincing and presented nothing of substance for him to ponder.

"I see. Your hand did tremble during dinnertime, you were absent from breakfast, morning tea, and lunch, and your curtsy looked shaky. I've noticed your constitution has been off since the very first time I took your hand the night before, however, that is only your physical well-being. The issues that concern me are your actions and manners. Can you share with me your anxieties?"

He was sure that the face he was currently displaying was one filled with deceptive concern. Even considering her illness he had pointed out her unjustifiable improprieties and strange behaviour.

He had posed a simple question, but the effects were outside his expectations. Clenching. There was certainly tension in the air and she seemed cornered. Was it really a conundrum so difficult that she lost the capability to respond?

He was trying to banish the slight smile that was creeping up on the corners of his mouth. He would have liked to see her struggle and flounder a bit more, but he was a gentleman. It wouldn't do to continue to press a lady, so he would pull back his fangs, and despite her revealing nothing herself, he would hear about various happenings in her life from other sources in time.

Though he was a bit refreshed, the afternoon tea was like a hollow victory. His partner that he teased had been limpid from the start. The perfect Garnet was rendered speechless, but how and why?

The afternoon tea came to an end. Though it was a pointless use of his time, the same could be said for the majority of his trip, and there was no use crying about the inconvenience after the fact. His trip was now over.

He leaned back in his carriage seat, his head touching the cushion. The first familiar vibrations of the vehicle's trip heralded the boring journey ahead, where his solitary ruminations would be his primary company.

Garnet. Perhaps her frustrated and dreadful reaction was the one honest and unveiled part of her. He had pointed out her peculiarities, brought light to her faux pas, and she winced. It was the only thing that seemed genuine during his entire visit.

A frown came over his face.

"Maybe she really was ill."

 

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Mira followed after Garnet. Her lady had shown a bitter and ghastly expression the whole day, often with her head down in deep brooding. Though she had tried her best to support her lady through the day's struggles, she was unable to help much.

Mira also had a set of trials to surmount. The greatest trial had been the afternoon tea, where she was tasked with serving the prince. It made no sense to her at the time, but she complied due to the state of urgency, and afterwards, when her panic had subsided, she realized a senior servant should have been the server. Indisputably, it was due to her shortcomings as a servant that she didn't understand this. Her lady had relied on her to handle the situation, and she had failed.

She was still steeped in regret when they had come to a stop in front of the Duke's study. She watched her lady open the door and disappear into the room.

Stepping to the side of the hall, she folded her hands, and endured an uncomfortable wait. Only a short time had passed before she heard shouting. The insufferable atmosphere made her feel helpless and caused a tightness in her chest.

The shouting had come to an end, and just when she thought that the meeting was over, a few abrupt clapping noises sounded.

The door opened once again, and as Garnet was closing it behind her, Mira caught a glimpse of her downtrodden and red face.

Her lady immediately began to storm off with a brisk pace, nearly leaving her scrambling self behind. They travelled through the halls right to Garnet's room, and before she could open the door for her lady the doorknob was already turned.

Mira attempted to enter the room but soon found herself facing a closed door. She was now standing alone in the hallway.

It took her a while to fully digest her sudden isolation, and the conclusion she came to was that there was nothing she could do but give appropriate consideration to her lady. She left.

Everything weighed on her mind. Throughout the rest of the day, she managed to keep herself busy, however, she felt no enthusiasm and lacked focus.

Soon it was evening, and according to the hearsay subtly directed her way, Garnet had been prohibiting servants from entering her room and disturbing her. Though she was doubtlessly not a good maid, she somehow found herself in front of those bedroom doors.

She gently knocked and received no response. Trying one more time while announcing herself, there was still only silence. She steeled herself and entered the room.

The room was fairly dark, the blinds were drawn closed, and a shape appeared to be sitting on the couch. Before she could fully approach, her lady seemed to have noticed her presence and become startled enough to roll off the couch, falling to the floor dramatically. Seeing this, Mira hurried over to help. However, an angry Garnet instantly reprimanded her as she tried to help her up.

"I said that no one was to bother me ..."

"... crying?"

The tactless word slipped out of her mouth and interrupted Garnet, causing her to quickly turn her head to hide her face. Things were worse than Mira had thought. She wasn't supposed to have seen her mistress like this. It only makes sense that she had been turning away all the servants.

The circumstances were already this extreme and yet Mira's attention was stolen anew. There was a strange but familiar smell. She looked around and then spotted a conspicuous article standing on the floor near the base of the couch. Her hand reached out and grasped a bottle.

"Wait!"

"M-milady?"

Garnet had called out in alarm, but Mira already knew. It was another side of the lady that she was shocked to learn. Even more than it bothered her, it hurt her.

She took Garnet's hands in her own and stared straight towards a miserable face filled with anxiety.

"If only I was a better maid, if only I didn't make so many mistakes, I could have reduced your burden. I can only beg you to think of your health."

"Y-your a really nice person ..."

She had already drunk so much, let alone that this was the worst time of the month for her to be drinking. Mira was truly concerned and sympathetic. If things were going to be like this, then she wished that Garnet would have sought out other help, her help.

Mira felt the hands she had been gently holding squeeze a little harder. It was as if her lady was accepting her words of support and imploring her for more. If her words could offer any consolation then she would continue on with heartfelt sincerity.

"Milady is truly wonderful. Daily you are giving your best efforts. I'm sure His Highness knows and loves you dearly."

Garnet let out a choking noise, and the tension in the air seemed to increase. She had made a mistake! Rather than reassuring, she might have counterproductively expounded her lady's insecurities about the prince loving her!

Before she knew it, Garnet was leaning against her. Although it was a bit strange, Mira just patted her lady's back caringly.

"Please, *urp*, ..."

*Yes, milady!*

"... you have to hide the evidence."

"Ehhhhh!"

Then before she knew it, Mira was rushing down the hallway with a cloth-covered bottle destined for obscurity.

Rounding a corner, she almost bumped into another servant. She apologized profusely and continued her flight without delay. She couldn't afford to stop, especially after noticing that brown-haired boy wrinkle his nose!

 

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〈 Author's Note 〉

So, a particular user (WeirdHaircut) gave me my first review and I must say I was tickled pink, very tickled. I don't need money for this story. If I could pay money to have my story written I would, however, it doesn't work that way because I am the author! I am the author ... All I want is for my story to be written, but I am the one writing it. There are various problems with me and my writing, and even though I feel like 'orz' I need to continue writing.

Hah. You thought I went on hiatus or dropped this story? Nope. Never. However, there are a lot of problems, and the greatest of them all is the need for MOAR chapters. Yep, the NEED MOAR CHAPTERS disease.

I tried something new in this chapter. My friend roleplayed as the prince with me in a Q&A session. I would describe a situation and ask how they would respond as the prince. I believe I have been able to faithfully recreate and embellish the spirit of their prince.

I've wanted my character to get slapped for a while.

The majority of the chapter is a dinner party and afternoon tea. Normally these would be inconsequential and boring events, but I feel like I managed to write them well? Garnet is an important character and I'm finding my personal preference is to tell the story largely from others' viewpoints when I see an interesting opportunity. It puts strain on me as a writer though because I need to comprehensively craft good supporting characters and stay consistent with their persona.