"Another war?" An elderly man who Diane presumed to be the oldest in the hall asked.
"No. Well, not yet anyway. But a lot of tensions have risen near the border; the king has requested he personally go there to see if it can be quelled…" He suddenly stopped mid-sentence but continued.
"We will discuss the details over tea, uncle," he said to the old man, who nodded knowingly.
Diane didn't know what she felt or how to feel. For one, she was relieved. Thinking she would be meeting Dravon, there had been a knot in her stomach all morning that even the spread on the breakfast table couldn't loosen.
Yet, she felt disappointment. She had imagined how their first meeting would be. The tension, their first conversation—that is, if he would talk to her anyway. But she imagined them, regardless. And now, all that imagination has gone to void. So, she tried to hide her disappointment lest she be found out by the duchess and, most importantly, Mira.
The Duke's attention now fully returned to the hall. He closed his eyes for a moment and then clasped his hands together as he cleared his voice.
He started making a long speech.
If the duchess died the day Dravon was born, that would mean some people here never met her. Ceremonies like this one might just be his way of remembering her memories and talking about her to people who did not know the graciousness that was once his wife. She suddenly felt pity for him and a little more for Dravon,, who never got to experience what a mother's love felt like.
"My late wife was a woman of many values. She had a strength that is quiet. She was someone who valued peace and unity over pride, and so for the years she lived as the duchess, she strove to maintain peaceful relations between the noble houses.
"This ceremony is not merely for her memory. I want it to act as a reminder of the foundation she built, a reminder of her legacy and of the peace she wished for this family." He paused.
Diane watched as some of the relatives bowed their heads, and a few, especially the women, wiped away a few tears discreetly. She felt something tighten in her chest. And though she never met this woman, hearing a husband eulogize his wife so was so sad yet noble.
"I hope that by gathering to celebrate her memory, we get to unite and set aside our various differences." And by tomorrow, we will all commemorate her passing as one family." He continued.
He also thanked everyone for coming far and wide to answer his call. And he then spent the next few minutes talking about her. With the expression on everyone's face, well, except Lady Vanice, it must be a story they have listened to every year but still enjoy hearing.
Diane could not help but feel a little sad for the duchess; she imagined marrying someone who, in so many ways, is not yet over their former spouse. And having to listen to them eulogize and talk at length about their dead wife.
It was not until a guard came and whispered into his ears that he finally stopped. He wished everyone a nice stay and hoped the preparation would go smoothly.
He was about to follow the guest out when the duchess spoke, with a warm but controlled voice.
"Your Grace, I asked Lady Athea to assist in some of the arrangements today. There is still much to complete. I hope she does not mind," she said it as if asking for permission.
Diane knew it was a trap. The Duke does not seem to notice the tension between the two women. And it seemed that by asking for his permission to keep her here for longer, she was solidifying a claim to her time.
"Do you mind, Athea?" He asked flippantly. "You can use the time to get acquainted with everyone here too."
"I will gladly help however I can, your Grace," she answered, and he nodded his approval.
With his hands folded at his back, he marched away.
The hall suddenly relaxed as if some people had been holding their breath all the while he was present. Conversation continued slowly, and the little groups were starting to form once again.
Mira gave Diane a worried look and shook her head.
The men had all left the hall now, to where Diane could not fathom. Only the women and young girls now remained. Even the eye candy Kaelion Kail had left too.
The duchess is talking now; she is almost designating tasks and explaining how the events would follow.
Even in this world, it is still women who do all the work, but at least in consolation, the men go to war on behalf of the country. Unlike in her world, she thought as she settled down to start her own task of overlooking the embroidering of the table cloths for the ceremony.
She took consolation in the fact that all she had to do was watch them do it, for she had never done any embroidery her whole life.
Later she stepped out of the hall, past the hallway. There the Duke was with not only his guards, but a fleet that looked like they were not meant to be there.
The person who Diane presume to be the leader of the troupe looked foreign.
There was definitely a language barrier as the Duke tries in vain to demonstrate with his hands.
"No, that is not what I said, the kingdom made no promises of…" He stopped mid sentence, clearly exasperated.
"Our warship would be on Valerune's border soon, we only desire a passage, and no trouble…"
The heavily armored man kept going on.
"But why can I understand both perfectly?" Diane asked herself in a hushed tone as she pretends to be engrossed in the sculpture that had caught her attention earlier.
She strained her ears, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.
"Valerune made no promises to Solaria. We are on the verge of battle too…" The Duke continued in his exasperated state.
When the man started talking again, Diane finally realized why she could understand him alright.
She knew she had to step in.
"May I, your Grace?", she asked as she walked briskly towards the group.
"Quid ipsum est problema?"