Chapter 42. Banquet Preparations
2023.10.12.
The next morning, Blair came down to the dining room and ate with Herdin as usual. Only the clinking of their cutlery echoed through the dining room.
In the now-familiar silence, Blair recalled her conversation with Agnes from a few days ago.
After the consultation had ended, Blair asked when they could proceed with the hypnosis. Agnes made a troubled expression and replied,
"You must first obtain His Excellency's consent regarding that matter. When we began the consultations, that was his order."
Blair assumed he wanted to observe the hypnosis process, just as he had done previously.
Regardless, since it seemed Agnes would not budge without Herdin's consent, Blair yielded without a fuss.
However, after meeting Katrina yesterday, she grew anxious. It was not solely because of her contract with Herdin.
She was curious about the truth that Katrina so deeply feared.
"Herdin."
Instead of answering, Herdin looked up and met her gaze.
Blair cut straight to the point.
"I was told your consent is required to proceed with the hypnosis. Would you be willing to give it?"
Herdin, who had been listening in silence, paused his movements, his gaze settling on her.
Blair continued,
"They say your condition has improved significantly through our consultations, so if we were to attempt hypnosis again—"
"No."
Herdin answered firmly before Blair could even finish her sentence.
Blair looked at him in bewilderment. It was a silent question asking for his reasons.
"I heard you've decided to host a banquet soon. It would be problematic if you fell ill again like last time."
Only then did Blair recall the banquet schedule she had completely forgotten, her mind having been preoccupied with her meeting with Katrina yesterday.
It seemed Mason had already reported it to Herdin.
"There is no need to rush to the point of risking disruptions to your other schedules."
"Then will you permit it after the banquet?"
"We'll see."
Herdin replied indifferently, picking up his water glass to wet his throat.
At his vague answer, Blair's delicate brows slightly furrowed. Simultaneously, her small lips pursed tightly in dissatisfaction.
It seemed to be an unconscious reaction.
Watching her over the rim of his glass, the corners of Herdin's lips twitched upward, but the motion was hidden by the glass.
He set the glass down and added, a beat late,
"We'll see when the time comes."
Blair seemed displeased with his answer, but appearing to give up on persuading him any further, she resumed her meal.
Just as they finished their meal and rose from their seats, Herdin spoke.
"Ah, Ruth will be helping you with the banquet preparations today."
Blair's eyes widened at the unexpected remark.
* * *
Ruth's expression was dark as he headed toward the drawing room where Blair would be waiting. He looked exactly like a child trudging off to do unwanted homework.
Ruth let out a deep sigh as he recalled his earlier conversation with Herdin.
"Mason has taken to his bed. It seems he's not as robust as he used to be."
"It must be his age. Is it bad?"
"The medicine seems to be working well, so there's no need to worry about that."
"That's a relief."
"Anyway, that's enough about Mason. So, you'll need to help Blair today."
"Yes... Wait, what?!"
"She said she would begin the banquet preparations today."
Unable to comprehend Herdin's words immediately, Ruth blinked in confusion. A beat later, the meaning sank in, and he gasped.
He found Blair awkward to deal with.
In her presence, he put on a moderately sociable smile and maintained a baseline level of courtesy, but only because she was his superior and thus entitled to such treatment.
Over the past few months, observing Blair from over Herdin's shoulder, he had concluded she didn't seem like the same breed as the existing members of the imperial family. Nevertheless, as a member of the imperial family, she was still a subject to be kept in check.
Ruth hated that dissonance. The more he realized Blair was different from the other imperial family members, the less he wanted to grow close to her.
"I-I don't even live in this mansion."
"Not right now, no. But you lived here for a long time."
The one who had brought a child surviving as a pickpocket in the back alleys to the ducal estate and raised him was Herdin's mother, Eloise.
Ruth, having received her grace, had lived in the ducal estate all along. That is, until Herdin returned from the war, took Ruth on as his adjutant, and Ruth was granted a title to stand on his own.
Perhaps even more so than Herdin, Ruth was the person who best knew the inner workings of the estate—second only to Mason.
"That's true, but..."
"Even so, it's not like you're going to follow me and hunt demonic beasts."
Herdin was scheduled to head to the outskirts of the capital today for a demonic beast subjugation.
As spring approached and the weather warmed, reports had come in stating that the hibernating demonic beasts were awakening.
And so, Herdin had dumped this uncomfortable task on Ruth and departed.
"Haa..."
Before he knew it, Ruth had arrived in front of the drawing room. He let out a heavy sigh, and just as he reached for the doorknob—
"Sir Ruth."
"Agh!"
Ruth yelped, startled by the voice coming from right beside him. Blair was just as startled by his dramatic reaction.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
Ruth worried that Blair might have heard his sigh, revealing his inner discomfort with her, but only surprise remained on Blair's face. Fortunately, it seemed she hadn't heard it.
"Ah, no. My mind was elsewhere, so I didn't see you coming."
Ruth, who had instinctively moved to enter the drawing room, stopped in his tracks, realizing there was no need to do so.
"Shall we look around the banquet hall first?"
The two began to tour the estate together. Starting from the banquet hall, moving to the lounges where guests could rest, and even the balconies.
Contrary to Ruth's worries about things being awkward, the conversation flowed naturally once the topic of the banquet came up.
Walking beside Blair, Ruth observed her as he jotted down her instructions in a notebook—areas needing repairs, decorations to be added, and the like.
Blair was handling the banquet preparations far more skillfully and meticulously than Ruth had anticipated.
'I heard she rarely held banquets when she was a princess, but she acts as if she's done this countless times.'
Ruth inwardly admired her competence as he followed behind her.
Next was the gallery, where one could grasp a rough outline of Delmark's history.
The gallery displayed a variety of paintings, ranging from portraits of the successive Dukes of Delmark to portraits of the previous ducal couple and Herdin.
When a banquet was hosted, this gallery would be opened as well. For the attendees, a banquet might simply be a day of enjoyment, but for the host, it was also a day to showcase their noble house.
Though few took great interest in it, it was a significant space for the hosting family.
Upon entering the gallery, the first thing that caught the eye was a massive tapestry embroidered with the wings of a divine beast.
'The crest of Delmark.'
Blair knew the origin of this crest.
In the distant past, an era when demonic beasts and demons threw the world into chaos.
Divine beasts lived in this world.
They had crossed over from another world like the rest of the demonic beasts, but unlike those that sowed chaos, they sided with humanity and protected the peace and order of this world.
The world gradually found stability, and the divine beasts, declaring their mission complete, departed from this world.
Even as all its kin departed, the last divine beast, having fallen in love with a human woman, chose to remain in this world—only to lose its beloved in the final war, plunging it into deep sorrow.
Before leaving this world, it sought to bequeath a portion of its power to the First Emperor, who had been its lover's comrade. Though its beloved had perished, it knew how deeply she had loved humanity.
However, this immense power came with two restrictions.
First, because it was an extraordinary power housed within a mortal vessel, failing to control it properly carried the risk of a rampage.
Second, while it allowed the user to draw upon strength far surpassing their limits in dire circumstances, the price of doing so was the lifespan of their most beloved.
Since it was an abnormal power that could disrupt the balance of the world, such restrictions had been placed upon it.
However, the Emperor refused to inherit the power.
The Emperor was the center of the nation.
If a leader, who must remain steadfast above all else, were to be consumed by the power and run amok, it would inevitably lead to a national crisis.
Instead, he passed the power on to the one he trusted most: his close friend and loyal knight, the First Duke of Delmark.
Thus, the symbol of Delmark became not the divine beast itself, but its wings. Wings that would protect this world in the stead of the guardian beasts who had departed.
And so, the power of the divine beast was passed down through the direct lineage of Delmark.
During that time, one of the successive Dukes of Delmark, having lost his beloved as the price of the power, removed the second restriction.
He hoped that his descendants would never have to experience the same sorrow he did.
People condemned it as a thoroughly selfish choice, but no one knew how to restore a restriction that had already been erased.
As a result, the descendants of Delmark could no longer use the power that transcended their limits, but possessing the power of the divine beast nonetheless, they remained formidable, and House Delmark endured.
This much was the story as Blair knew it.
'That's why I was so worried...'
While others envied and revered him for possessing a power beyond anyone else's reach, Blair had only worried for him.
The weight of that power, granted for the sake of protecting others, was so immense that she feared it might one day consume him.
She feared he might meet a tragic end, crushed beneath the weight of that power just as his father had, and leave her side in sorrow.
However, knowing it was a wound he did not wish to recall, it was a concern she could never bring herself to voice aloud.
"This is the first Lord of the House."
Guiding Blair through the gallery, Ruth provided brief explanations of the figures in the portraits in chronological order. Knowing the history of the family she married into was a basic requisite for a Duchess.
Of course, for Blair, who had regressed, these were things she already knew.
Once Ruth finished his explanation of a given portrait, Blair would move on to the next.
At the same time, Blair's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
'This painting...'