Carriage after carriage entered the White Rose Garden. Servants gathered in groups to decorate the courtyard and guide the highborn guests toward the hall. They arranged long tables in the Rose Garden, covered them with white cloth, and set out silver plates, candlesticks, and other tableware.
People had long since begun coming and going through Her Majesty the Queen's garden. Those who knew one another and those who did not all exchanged greetings. A small royal banquet was already beginning to take shape. At least on the surface, it was lively and harmonious, without the slightest hint of tension.
Rushta's Inner City and Outer City had always been two different worlds, and the gentlemen who lived there had long grown accustomed to that fact.
Count Conrad jumped down from his carriage with a light step, greeting a certain gentleman knight as he approached, then coldly facing a nobleman who came forward with a sycophantic smile. Nothing could be hidden in the circles of the Empire's upper class. Everyone naturally knew who came from a distinguished family and who had risen through connections.
His family had a deep foundation, and if their ancestors had accomplished anything worthy of praise, that heritage and culture ran even deeper. Thus, he naturally looked down on such nouveau riche, just as military aristocrats looked down on jesters.
Besides, the heavy scent of money clinging to these people was often unpleasant. Naturally, a noble's life had to be supported by money, but in their eyes, money itself was often beneath notice. It was much the same as townspeople looking down on farmers from the countryside.
Conrad passed through the outer garden of the White Rose Garden with ease. Quite a few gentlemen had already gathered in the courtyard. This was the social circle of high society,