Chapter 27 - Chocolate Threat

                                        

                                              


I've been trying, for the damn life of me, to understand what the hell European aristocratic etiquette is all about—I've been trying since that ballroom chapter and I still CAN'T GET THE HANG OF IT.
Victoria base: French/English Nobility
Catherine's base: Russian Nobility/Eastern Europe
Frederica base: Crusader/Italian Nobility
Ludwig base: German/Austrian Nobility
[Delete later]
________________________________________________________________________________





Location: Lusignan Estate, Wall Rose
Year: 845
Time: A Few Days After the Fall





The Lusignan estate wasn't the largest house I'd ever been to.
That distinction still belonged to my father's—our family's—place back in Japan. Technically, by blood and legal documentation, it was my house too. But considering I spent most of my time there being lazy, monitored or ignored, I'm not sure it counts as "visiting."
This, however...
A sweeping lawn. Sculpted hedges, even a big gazebo that looked right out of a fairy tale.
This was definitely my first time at a girl's house.
I didn't really know if "girl" was the right word. Frederica de Lusignan was around my age, maybe a little older, but she carried herself like someone who'd already drafted her own funeral speech. 
The kind of person who had probably never tripped in public and would prefer death over showing up late to a tea meeting.
She was very formal.
Still... technically my first time. Right?
I sat across from her in the gazebo as a breeze brushed past us. Frederica sat on the other side of the table, partially obscured by a pyramid of elegantly stacked sweets and porcelain.
A tower of sugar...
I don't know if this is hell or heaven.
Maybe it's limbo.
She murmured something softly to the servant setting down the last of the cups. I couldn't catch the words. Whatever it was, it was enough to make the girl bow her head and leave us alone without another glance.
When Frederica turned her attention back to me, she looked mildly self-conscious.
"I might've gone overboard," she said quietly. "Sorry. I'm not used to... entertaining guests."
I glanced at the small mountain of cream-filled pastries and puffed sugar-cakes crowding the edge of my saucer. 
"...It shows."
Her eyes flicked up. No smile, but the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. Maybe it was my imagination, but she looked annoyed.
"It's fine," I said, trying to comfort her. "This is also a first for me."
 "You've never visited someone's house before?"
"Not like this. Not a personal visit."
She blinked once, surprised. 
"Oh... Then I probably should've introduced you to my parents. This feels—" she looked at the spread of sweets "—excessively informal."
"No need." I tilted my head slightly. "Where are they, anyway?"