Page 69 of The Shadow of Breninsol
A pointed cough interrupted the woman’s staring, making her let out a little squeak and fix her eyes on the floor.
Another servant, wearing the same cornflower blue outfit, gave Eleanor a quick curtsey. “If you’d follow me, my lady. The party is this way,” she said in a light, confident voice.
This woman was slightly older. Her brown eyes held a mature firmness, betraying a worldly experience that stripped away youthful innocence.
Eleanor wanted to correct the woman of her station, but she knew it’d be pointless. Instead, Eleanor gave a small smile, hoping to convey that no harm had been done. The first servant was young and, judging by her reaction, led somewhat of a sheltered life.
Like a good courtesan, Eleanor obediently followed the woman towards the merry music, passing towering paintings, and into what appeared to be the main hallway.
There were more manservants here, standing to attention. Interestingly, Eleanor didn’t think they were all guards masquerading as servants. To her eye, the slight differences in their positions were stark in contrast. The biggest tell was their sizes, with the largest looking like men who knew how to wield a sword or nock a bow.
Both roles endured standing to attention for long periods of time. A servant was required to be inconspicuous andunnoticeable in a room until their lord required their service. Whereas a guard stood proudly and impressed their presence on those around them, with the intention that if they stood imposingly enough, their foe would withdraw, all without the need to engage them in combat.
Her concealed blades eased Eleanor’s apprehension as she passed these men. Not every dress featured pockets in The Ladies Grace. Eleanor initially altered her own dresses until the other ladies noticed and altered their own dresses. When Madam Grace had eventually found out, she realised the practicality of pockets for her ladies and it had become a feature with their tailor. Madam Grace’s version of practicality involved the light-fingered ladies pilfering from an unsuspecting client, while their version of practicality was more for the odd coin, spare ribbons, a snack, or a weapon or two.
However, Eleanor had never been that obvious to keep her weapons in a pocket. Those she kept tucked away on her body. Tonight, her blade was snug on her thigh, and the dagger with the decorative handle held her hair in place.
The young woman guided Eleanor towards the music and laughter. She bobbed a quick curtsey before she left Eleanor by the open double doors, where the party was in full swing.
Her stomach sunk.
She was the only courtesan here. Eleanor felt their scrutiny before she’d even stepped into the room. Watching her closely, ready to see her next move, and planning to inform the marquis. She didn’t want him to know she’d fled.
Weakness.
Eleanor lifted her chin and took the necessary steps into the room but kept close to the wall; she didn’t need to stride into this party. She briefly indulged in the illusion of remaining unnoticed for a short while.
Compared to the party palace rooms, this one felt surprisingly small. It felt intimate, like this truly was an exclusive event.
The walls and ceiling were a mixture of light blue and white, making the room feel bigger than it was. After the ostentatiousness of the party palace, the displayed wealth here was subdued. Wide glass doors with paned windows above were pitch black from the nighttime, and a string quartet in a corner was playing soft cheerful music that obscured the courtiers’ conversation. Tall green ferns dotted around the room added some interest and a small space was clear for those wishing to dance, but people were mostly talking.
Eleanor took in the courtiers who were laughing, smiling, and drinking with abandon. It didn’t feel like the party in the series of rooms in the palace, but it wasn’t like the parties in the palace’s ballroom either. This felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.
She recognised a few courtiers and their Favours, but many others were unfamiliar. These unknown nobles were older, some significantly so, noticeable by their grey hair and the lines that defined their features and highlighted their age. Some moved with more considered slowness, or they were seated. Their expressions were less reserved, with open scowls or booming laughs that deepened the lines on their faces.
Whoever these older nobles were, they’d been absent at the parties in the palace. Their jewels, though smaller and simpler, were no less beautiful, and identified them as nobles. Although, Eleanor doubted wearing diamond earrings could mean being simply dressed.
The room’s comfort almost lured Eleanor into ease. All manner of seating was available and being used; large comfortable looking oval stools were for lounging, along with chairs with straight ridged backs and chairs with soft backs, chairs with no arms, and chairs with arms.
Her stomach twisted when she realised that some nobles were holding themselves stiffly, while others showed a preference over a certain side. Upon closer inspection, she saw unknown nobles rigidly holding a limb, while some had a thin sleeve tucked into a pocket. Whoever these courtiers were, they weren’t in the party palace for a reason, and she’d just found it.
The king’s absence was evident as Eleanor roamed the edge of the room. Maybe that caused the unburdened atmosphere, or maybe it was just because the nobles were away from the palace? Eleanor hadn’t seen the marquis, but the glances and lingering looks towards the doorway were telling. They were all waiting for him to make his grand entrance.
Eleanor’s attempts to ignore the courtiers’ giggles failed. She appeared indifferent, but a small part she didn’t want to recognise in herself did care, just a little bit.
She didn’t belong. She never would.
Eleanor grabbed a glass of sparkling wine from a server’s silver tray, but the size of him took her aback. He was clearly another guard in disguise.
What was the marquis feeding these men, or was it something in the water?
Eleanor watched the server-guard make his way to the corner, where there was a cluster of ferns in large painted pots. He disappeared behind them, then a servant emerged from behind the plants with a fresh tray of wine.
She subtly sniffed the wine, ignoring the questions she couldn’t ask, and let the crisp orange scent with a hint of roses and spices reach her nose before drinking.
Eleanor was already counting down the minutes until she could leave and return to her shoddy bed without incurring the madam’s unpleasantness. She checked the room in case she’d missed a server with food, but only sparkling wine was being offered.
A thought snaked through her. Had the courtiers already eaten, and had she been a last-minute addition for the evening’s entertainment? This reminded Eleanor that she didn’t understand why the marquis had invited her. According to Lauressa, it was one of the most coveted parties of the Season. A social event where anyone who wanted power and popularity was invited. She wanted neither and doubted these courtiers would provide either.
