The Baroness of Renin

Chapter 2-Edward

The day I met Theodora was anything but special for me. I was greeting the members of my court, observing with disdain all the pompous nobles that groveled to my face, only to whisper behind my back. After a lifetime of such duplicity, I had grown quite weary of it all, to say the least.

I sighed, glancing at Jonton. He was one such noble I had the displeasure of spending far too much of my precious time with. Sure, he was a useful enough servant when in my presence. However, whatever positive qualities he possessed were negated by the lies he peddled once he was out of my sight. Some of his slanderous speech was of such an unflattering nature that my sister's handmaiden felt obligated to inform her of it, and she, in turn, brought it to my attention.

Unfortunately, despite my attempts to ascertain the full extent of said rumors from the handmaiden herself, I had still yet to be told the rumors in their entirety. It seemed that the shy Anabelle would rather risk the wrath of the royal family than let such vile, distasteful words cross her tongue.

I forced myself to maintain a polite smile as I nodded at the pretentious Lords and preening Dames who flooded my home far more often than I could tolerate. The excuse for this week's gathering was to celebrate Monsieur Leon's youngest son's completion of his Quest of the Warrior. Thanks to his 'courageous actions', he had officially become a full-fledged member of the community.

Honestly, I couldn't even begin to imagine why everyone made such a fuss about it all. It wasn't as if I knew of a single person who had failed their initiation rite. Now that would actually be something unique, something interesting.

Alas, nothing so intriguing ever seemed to happen in my life. Oh, there was always some trivial event to occupy my time. A sword match, a jousting tournament, a wedding, a law to debate the implementation of... It's not difficult to understand why I was more than a little fed up with it all.

It felt wholly unnecessary for my father to honor so many nobles as often as he did by inviting them to dine in our hallowed halls. Why couldn't we just send a court official to the young man's home with a charcuterie basket instead?

I itched my scalp, already tired of the tricorne with our crest embroidered upon it. The feathered hat was lighter than my crown but a great deal more stifling, as was the bearskin sash I wore. The silver sword tugged on my trousers, threatening to make them fall.

I grimaced. Why were these ceremonial garments and weapons needed? Everyone knew who I was. Why did I have to remind them with such blatant advertising?

I took a moment to sneer at the room around me. Such a waste of money, all this debauchery, the funds spent to feed these...these beggarly dogs. Surely, our wealth would serve far greater a purpose by being used to give aid to those who were truly in need. At the very least, one would hope that such a generous spread would attract ones that might actually be of interest to talk to.

"Look at all these women. Hardly one worth the jewels bedecking their throats," the charlatan Jonton declared with disdain.

As if to add emphasis to his point, three such maidens approached us. They gave exaggerated curtsies.

"Your Grace," they greeted, their voices affecting deep reverence.

"Your Grace is for a Duke, not a prince," I murmured under my breath.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't quite catch that," one of them said, her bushy brow rising quizzically.

I swallowed my disgust, channeling the decorum I had been raised with, and cleared my throat. "Oh, just a tickle of the ol' esophagus. Nothing to be concerned about."

Jonton snorted, then coughed in a futile attempt to cover it up. I gave him a side eye, forcing a smile back onto my face whilst elbowing him to keep his peace to himself.