TNBTW | Episode 22

From their previous encounter, Edith had expected the young lady’s favorability toward her to have plummeted to the negatives, so she wouldn’t have been surprised if her invitation was outright rejected. Yet, contrary to expectations, the young lady responded positively.

With this, all invitees had sent their confirmations of attendance.

Recalling when Bill first taught her about invitations and mentioned how replies often went unanswered unless it was to decline, Edith felt this was an encouraging result.

“The start is promising. Everyone has said they’ll come, so that’s a relief.”

“Indeed, madam.”

“Do you think I might actually be better at playing the duchess than I expected?”

Feeling buoyed, Edith joked with a smile, to which Bill responded only with a calm, knowing smile.

There was one week left until the tea party. Edith’s debut into society appeared to be progressing without any major issues.

 

***

 

On a spring day when the warm breeze tickled the budding leaves, the usually tranquil Devion Ducal Estate was abuzz with an unusual liveliness.

“Move the tables a bit farther apart!”

“Don’t forget to inspect the tablecloths one more time—make sure there aren’t any creases!”

In the drawing room, bustling with activity in preparation for the tea party, the head maid directed the servants with precision, while a small orchestra behind the curtains fine-tuned their performance, adjusting the volume to suit the room’s size.

“My goodness, it’s so beautiful!”

Stopping by the kitchen at the head chef’s request to preview the prepared dishes, Edith couldn’t help but exclaim in amazement.

A variety of finger foods were displayed like jewels—meat pies intricately rolled to resemble roses, chestnuts paired with chocolate, and jellies made from sugar-soaked oranges.

“This is your first party as the duchess. Naturally, we must give it our all.”

His words, laced with pride, reflected his dedication. Knowing how much the chef wanted to showcase his skill, Edith sincerely praised his efforts.

The morning passed in a flurry of activity, and soon it was time for the party to begin.

Having double-checked the road leading to the estate to ensure it was clear for carriages, Edith waited with nervous anticipation for the bell to chime—the signal from the gate servant that guests had arrived.

She smoothed her slightly disheveled attire from running around. With the guests arriving soon, she needed to present herself impeccably.

How many times had she circled the drawing room and glanced at the mirror? Considerable time had passed, yet the outside remained eerily quiet.

“Bill, the bell isn’t broken, is it?”

“I checked it this morning, Madam. It should be fine.”

Edith asked if it was possible, but Bill politely told her that it was not possible. Her gaze drifted to the wall clock.

Tick, tock. Time moved relentlessly forward, indifferent to her anxious heart.

“Madam, the Count of Monte’s household has sent a letter.”

Just as Edith was growing weary of waiting for the sound of the bell, one of the gate servants approached with a message. The Count of Monte’s family was one of the invited guests.

Edith took the letter and stared at it briefly. A sinking feeling gripped her. Her hands trembled slightly as she broke the seal.

‘Oh no…’

Scanning the contents, Edith sighed internally.

 

[To the esteemed Duchess of Devion,

…Thus, I regret to inform you that we will be unable to attend today’s tea party due to unforeseen circumstances. It deeply saddens us to miss such a prestigious occasion. As a token of our regret, we are sending a gift along with this letter…]

 

In summary, they wouldn’t be attending due to unavoidable reasons but were sending a gift instead.

Edith knew this was a breach of etiquette. Proper manners dictated that a guest should notify their host of non-attendance at least three days in advance.

However, citing family issues and sending a gift made it difficult to argue against.

‘At least they bothered to say something.’

She decided to let it slide, thinking it was better than receiving no word at all. Yet, this marked the beginning of her misfortune.

“Madam, a letter from the Baron of Forphey’s household…”

“The House of Ether has declined as well.”

“The Countess of Menier has sent a representative in her place.”

As if coordinated, every invited guest suddenly sent their apologies, announcing their inability to attend. The lobby, which should have been bustling with arriving guests, was instead filled with a growing pile of gifts from various noble households.

 

[To postpone our camaraderie is indeed a regrettable matter. However, as a dutiful child, attending to my mother’s poor health takes precedence. I trust the esteemed Duchess of Devion will understand as the matron of a great household.]

 

The final letter came from the Grand Duchy of Valesia. The young lady wrote of her inability to attend due to her mother’s illness.

The elegant handwriting betrayed its author’s youth; Edith instinctively knew it was penned by the eleven-year-old grand duchess herself. There was a subtle thorn in her words that did not escape Edith’s notice.

Only then did Edith realize that none of the invited guests had ever intended to attend.

The tea party, devoid of guests, felt hollow and desolate. As she glanced at the solemn servants and the crestfallen head maid, Edith finally turned to Bill, whose expression remained as composed as ever.

“Bill, did you know this would happen?”

“How could I, madam? However, one learns through life that the unpredictable often occurs.”

In other words, Bill had considered the possibility of this outcome but said nothing.

“So this is what you meant by learning through experience,” she murmured bitterly, to which Bill bowed his head slightly.

Edith wasn’t upset out of pride—she never truly saw herself as a duchess, even now. Nor was she angry at Bill for withholding his thoughts. It wasn’t his place to offer unfounded advice on uncertain matters, and he was right that Edith needed to learn through her own trials.

‘Everyone worked so hard though…’

What pained her more was the effort others had poured into this event. Everyone had worked tirelessly to support her debut as the duchess, yet she couldn’t reward their efforts with success.

Her gaze fell on the heap of gifts cluttering the lobby, a stark testament to the guests’ absence. The sight was so pitiful that one tender-hearted maid dabbed at her tearful eyes.

Everyone expected Edith to break down. No matter how resilient her disposition, enduring such a humiliation seemed impossible.

“Bill.”

After standing motionless for a while, Edith finally spoke. The servants anticipated a trembling, tearful voice. Yet, to their surprise, her tone was clear and steady.

“Do you think I can sell those gifts?”

Turning to face them, Edith’s eyes gleamed with determination.

 

***

 

Edith soon made her way to an orphanage on the outskirts of the capital.

The establishment, once run by an elderly couple taking in abandoned children, had grown into a proper orphanage.

“To receive such precious gifts—how can we ever repay the duchess’s kindness?”

“If the children grow up healthy, that will be the greatest gift to me.”

The elderly couple managing the orphanage bowed repeatedly, overwhelmed by gratitude at the sight of the goods Edith had brought.

Among the gifts, Edith set aside impractical items like sculptures and paintings, instead focusing on useful goods such as fine fabrics, candles, and even rare picture books that were hard to come by in such places. 

The food and desserts meticulously prepared for the tea party were also brought to the orphanage. The servants, who had been part of the tea party preparations just hours before, were now setting the food out in the orphanage courtyard.

“I didn’t pour my heart into these dishes just for it to end up in those little mouths!” 

The chef grumbled, but even he agreed it was for the best. Otherwise, the staff would have ended up eating the leftovers themselves.

White linen tablecloths were spread over the crude wooden tables, and as the servants carried out plates, delicate dishes adorned the tables one by one.

Through the small windows of the humble building, Edith spotted little faces peeking out, their eyes brimming with curiosity and excitement.