Irene’s jaw clenched and her eyes widened slightly but the apprentices who so easily talked badly about soone she thought was nice struck her. She felt the need to defend Alix even though she didn’t know him very well. The judgnt seed unfairly biased.
However, as she saw Sir Gunnar enter the dining hall at the sa ti as Sir Sven, she rely settled down, realizing it wasn’t worth the argunt. Her eyes then drifted to the Crown Prince who was being fawned over by multiple maids and she realized she really needed to get it together before she got herself into trouble.
As Irene looked around, one thing she noticed was that there wasn’t food at any of the tables except for the one where the Royal and Ducal families would sit. It was clear that no one else was allowed to eat yet who was lower ranked than the Princess who hadn’t made her presence known quite yet.
However, she also recalled that being a rule in her past life as well. Her husband had titles though so she never worried about when to eat. He wasn’t a Duke or King but they were never in the presence of any they had to worry about. Even then, Duke Arlin and his wife weren’t people well understood by the duchy.
No one dared question anything, but Leif and Irene shared looks of understanding.
"These must be so rules from the South," Felix realized. "Is that right, Arin?"
The light blonde apprentice raised his eyebrows.
"Not much acquainted with nobles here in the north, are you?" he asked, his tone clearly judgntal. "Those are the rules. The highest title in the room will decide when everyone else gets to eat. You’ll notice that even the Duke hasn’t lifted his fork while His Highness does so easily."
"You’ve never had to worry about that, right Iro?" Felix taunted from across the table. "Your father is lorded so he gets to do whatever he wants since there aren’t many nobles out here."
"That isn’t sothing he concerns himself with," Irene corrected the other apprentice. "Even though my mother would like him to care about it, he never will."
Comnts about another highborn individual piqued Arin’s interest, and he gave Irene a once-over.
"Which house do you belong to?" he asked.
The way he even asked the question caused her to internally roll her eyes.
"My father is Sir Arthur Litharion," she responded, knowing he would prefer she didn’t refer to him as a lord.
She also reasoned that he had until the end of winter before he was out of his knightly duties. It was a fact she would take advantage of until it truly happened.
"My father is Marquess Sadiv," Arin boasted as if it was sothing the others would recognize. However, his glances at the others were t with little understanding. There was no point in flexing anything other than a title in front of those so uncultured.
However, sothing struck the apprentice, and he couldn’t help further questions.
"The Wolf?" Arin questioned. "He’s said to have a daughter and be a an-looking fellow. I wasn’t alive when he was knighted or at least too young to rember sothing like that."
"The Wolf of the North," Leif chid in. "He can tear apart a dire wolf with his bare hands."
"Then what is the knight not doing here when the Royal Family is visiting?" Arin questioned. "Isn’t that the lowest of responsibilities for soone titled?"
"I have been told that my father seeing His and Her Majesty at the Winter Solstice Banquet is more than enough considering travel in this area during winter is inadvisable," Irene retorted. "Especially for soone who has recently lost his hand."
"Oh?" Arin questioned. "Sothing I must have missed. What will he do then if he can’t wield a sword?"
There was a pause as Irene t the gaze of the apprentice and she felt a bit defensive at his question. Even though she knew it was harmless, she couldn’t quite place why she thought that he was trying to push her buttons.
Before she could give him an answer, Princess Marie was announced and walked into the room with one of her maids leading her forward on her elbow.
Everyone in the room was required to stand and they weren’t able to sit until she sat in her own spot where the maid continued fussing over her, ensuring her gown sat perfectly and her hair that had been revitalized for the feast was still put together.
Irene couldn’t help her eyes following the girl who wore another red dress but it was certainly a bit more extravagant than the last. She hated to admit that even though the girl was a re thirteen years old, she was unbelievably beautiful.
At that mont, Irene felt grateful for not having to present herself as a girl. How could she possibly compare to soone with such flawless white skin and perfectly curled blonde hair? Those were both things considered the beauty standard of the Royal Family but Irene was very much not that.
The girl was situated and the maid stepped back until she was beside the fireplace but not blocking it from the Princess. She stayed close by to make sure that the servants of the Duke’s house were as on top of things as they needed to be.
Fortunately, that finally ant that the Princess was able to be served her al as well as the Duke and Duchess. Other maids then started passing platters of food down the long tables that lined the rest of the dining hall.
By that point, everyone’s stomachs were thoroughly growling since it was even later than usual for supper—only further delayed by the fussing Princess.
When it was Irene’s turn to serve herself so of the food, she was pleased to have so roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and a roll on her plate.
Before she could dig in, she heard Arin’s particularly proper voice.
"I thought the two of you would stare holes through Her Highness," he said. "Never seen a girl that looks quite like that, have you? Don’t get used to it, one day she’ll marry my eldest cousin and beco the Duchess of Sadiv."
Irene didn’t realize for a mont, but he was staring accusatorily at her and Leif.
She turned to glare at the older apprentice at his insinuation.
On the other hand, Leif looked quite embarrassed.
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