Once all of the guests had arrived Artemisia found herself at a table with two other women, both of similar age to herself.

  The first was the third daughter of the von Jarlliard ducal family, a pale-skinned blonde with dark blue eyes and an outfit to match. Her hair was as straight as if it had been ironed, atypical of the current fashion, which called for curls aplenty. Artemisia didn’t remember hearing about her at all, and indeed, she seemed disinclined to speak a single word that wasn’t necessary.

  The other, however, Artemisia was familiar with. Her name was Madeline Rothbart, of a family only raised to the peerage of a count a generation or so ago. She was startlingly beautiful, with raven hair she’d elected to leave half down, tumbling down her back, angular cheekbones, and arresting red eyes, proof of this being a fantasy world. She was pointedly not making eye contact. According to what Artemisia had been told, the two of them had had quite the public altercation last season.

  From the things Elise told me, it sounded like I’d bullied her for her family’s relatively recent ascension. This… could get messy.

  “Lady Nivia, how was your summer? Did you travel at all?” Madeline asked the reticent woman in question.

  “No, I did not.” Nivia von Jarlliard took a sip of her tea, apparently not intending to speak further on the subject.

  “I see.” Madeline twiddled her thumbs for a moment, before trying again. “I was quite surprised to receive this invitation, but how about you? Have you been before?”

  “Yes, twice.”

  “I see,” Madeline said again.

  Gods, this is excruciating! What was Princess Sissi thinking, putting the three of us together? The princess was several tables away, chatting animatedly with Verda von Rustrucht and a few other women of similar age. Tables seemed to be split by both gender and age, which had clearly worked for some groups… and not for others.

  Artemisia looked back and found Madeline giving her a death glare over her tea.

  “Something wrong?” she couldn’t help but say. Damn it, why did I say that?!

  “Not at all,” Madeline replied in an overly cheery tone. “But I imagine you must find yourself unhappy with this arrangement, being sat next to such inferior company.”

  Artemisia hummed non-committally in response. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “You wouldn’t? Well, that comes as a surprise to me. One such as yourself must have thought it appropriate to sit next to the crown princess, instead of less suitable folk.”

  Artemisia sighed. “I don’t care for beating around the bush – my opinion on matters such as that has changed, and I feel entirely neutral towards you.”

  Nivia’s eyebrow twitched as she attempted to ignore the conversation.

  “You…” Madeline almost growled, sounding most improper. She was clearly gearing up for a fight, and now she doesn’t know what to do.

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  “I have no inclination to cause a scene, and I am certain Lady Nivia feels the same, so shall we at least enjoy the delicacies Her Highness has prepared for us in peace.” Sorry for dragging you into this, Nivia!

  Nivia must have caught Artemisia’s apologetic look, as she sighed deeply and said, “Such fine tea such as this suits a calm atmosphere, do you not think, Lady Rothbart?”

  “I…” Madeline began her sentence a few times over, before finally acquiescing. “Indeed, Lady Nivia.”

  And so the afternoon tea continued, punctuated by various glances at each other around the table.

  What is the likelihood of either of these ladies being the female lead? I’d say Madeline Rothbart has a fighting chance, being from a family that recently ascended to the nobility, giving her that underdog quality. She also is on bad terms with Artemisia, and since I seem to be a villain of this story, that would make sense. Her aggressive manner towards me is perhaps a little odd, but not outside the bounds of a female lead, especially if she’s one of those types that is secretly evil… Or what if she’s actually a transmigrated person herself?! That would make sense for how she acts with little care for her reputation!

  Artemisia shook her head rapidly. Hang on, hang on, don’t go jumping to conclusions! There’s still so many unknowns. Ohhh, if only I could remember what story I’m in!

  “…your thoughts, Lady Artemisia?”

  “Hm?”

  Both Nivia and Madeline were looking at Artemisia, one with a neutral expression and one with barely-concealed disdain.

  “I’m terribly sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts,” Artemisia replied bashfully. “What did you ask me?”

  “I was asking your opinion on these little cakes,” Nivia said. “I’ve never had anything like them before.”

  “Oh, these?” Artemisia looked at the sweets in question. They’re Turkish delight, of course, but I doubt they’re called that here. “They’re foreign, are they not? I find them really quite tasty.”

  “They’re called lokum, from the far east of Nasca,” Madeline said proudly. “Some of my family’s trade caravans bring them back on occasion. They compliment the marron glacé very well, in my opinion.”

  That’s these candied nuts, isn’t it? “I agree.”

  To Artemisia’s surprise, a cordial conversation arose, although it was limited to food and drink. Nivia and Madeline were from opposite sides of the empire – Nivia from the north-west, and Madeline from the south-east – and so found themselves comparing each other’s local cuisine. Artemisia weighed in every now and then, and used the opportunities to observe the tables around her.

  It was a fairly small gathering by imperial standards, with no more than thirty in attendance, but it was a diverse group. From the clothing and appearance of a few attendees, it seemed they weren’t limited to those from within the empire as well.

  She located Duke von Loambarn as well, at a table with men at least twenty years older than him at the very least. Probably other men of a similar status to him, but he looks out of his depth. Can’t be easy, losing your parents at a young age and then having to step up to the role of duke not long after that.

  The duke seemed to be aware that he was being watched, and as he cast his own gaze about, suddenly the two of them made eye contact. Artemisia twisted away, her heart leaping into her throat. Good god, can I never be subtle?

  Her jolt hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other two ladies at the table.

  “I say, isn’t Duke von Loambarn looking over here?” Madeline said with a false lightness. “Do you suppose it might finally be the year for him to find a wife?”

  “He might be looking for one, but any woman would be a fool to accept him with his estate in such a state,” Nivia commented.

  Madeline nodded. “To become his wife now would be awfully stressful. There would be so much work to be done on top of your usual duties, let alone raising a family! Now, if he had been duke for another five years, it would be a different story, but in five years I intend to be happily married with at least one child. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Nivia hummed a response, before throwing the question over to Artemisia.

  “Oh, yes, that would be ideal,” Artemisia replied mechanically. I haven’t really thought that far into the future. I’ve got too much to focus on right now.

  She chanced another glance towards the duke. He was still looking.