Banquet Month

June 3, 1346

Bexland had also begun to stir with activity, entering the Kingdom of Ruun's noble "Banquet Month."

Now, almost every noble's manor held at least one party each day.

Through these grand feasts, they showcased their "family wealth," consuming vast amounts of manpower and resources. Each banquet featured a rich variety of "Exotic Ingredients" delicacies or precious foods, outwardly displaying the prosperity of their lineage.

This meant that now, every day, I received a whole basketful of banquet invitations. If I didn't attend, I had to reply with a letter expressing my "apologies."

At first, Altair could still manage, until even with the help of two maids and a "Typewriter," they couldn't keep up with the replies. Then, he simply handed the task over to Hahn, who hired a few people specifically to handle the invitation responses.

Even though Altair kept refusing to attend banquets, and the number of invitations eventually dwindled, the "Banquet Month" invites kept coming without fail.

This continued until autumn arrived three months later, marking the end of "Banquet Month."

During this period, Altair also had to host banquets regularly. This was to publicly signal that "Sheffield" was still standing, lest other nobles view it as a "family in decline" and exclude it from the core noble "Social Circle."

Altair knew nothing about such matters, so he simply let Hahn arrange the banquets. But thinking about the nature of these events, he took back the right to choose the guest list, deciding for himself whom to invite.

June 5th, afternoon.

Altair lifted her skirt slightly as she stepped down from the carriage, looking at the man before her and offering a greeting.

"Good Day, esteemed Count Donovan. It is my honor to dine with you tonight."

"Good Day, Countess Sheffield. That Lace Dress complements your hair color perfectly—an exquisite choice."

Today, Altair couldn't avoid attending the banquet at "Owen Donovan's" home. After all, he had helped her so much that she couldn't bring herself to refuse.

During this era, the formal greeting was "Title + Surname," while informal settings allowed "Given Name + Title."

After exchanging greetings, Altair followed the servant's guidance into the manor.

"So you're Altair Sheffield." Following the voice, she saw a young girl in a light green dress, like an elf, but wasn't her skin far too pale?

Seeing Altair Sheffield's puzzled expression, the girl spoke.

"I'm Hether Grant. You should have heard of me."

Hearing the girl's explanation, Altair recalled who she was and said in turn, "Good Day, Countess Donovan."

But upon hearing this, the girl immediately gave a solemn bow and said, "Good Day, esteemed Countess Sheffield."

This move left Altair completely flustered, unsure how to respond. "I gave you a respectful title because you're my elder! And you hit me with this—what's the meaning?!"

Hether Grant watched Altair Sheffield's flustered state, stepped forward, and took her hand. "See? Doesn't it feel strange now, not knowing what to say? You started it, so now you're the one embarrassed."

"From now on, just call me 'Hether' or 'Madam Donovan.'"

"I don't like juniors being too reverent toward me because of age or seniority. It's not good for keeping the right mindset."

Looking at the young girl holding her hand, Altair's thoughts churned. "Not to be rude, ma'am, but by age, you're at least forty. And yet you look like this—how do you seem younger at heart than me?"

Hether Grant pulled Altair along as they walked. "I've known about you for a long time. I wanted to meet you ages ago, but Your Father wouldn't let me visit Your Family. Still, it's not too late now."

"Come on, come on. You're the first to arrive today. Keep me company for some Afternoon Tea and a chat. There's still a long time until the banquet starts. When the others get here, I'll introduce you around."

As The Moon and the sun rose and set, the banquet guests arrived one by one, and the manor buzzed with "song and dance." During this time, Altair got to know quite a few people through Hether's introductions.

Perhaps because of Hether's personality, most of those introduced were young girls, many underage or just coming of age.

Hether also introduced some older individuals, but those were brief introductions, and the relationships weren't close.

Since Altair had never attended such banquets and knew no one there, she stayed with Hether and the others who weren't keen on dancing, chatting idly while waiting for the banquet to start.

Their conversations revolved around the typical concerns of young girls in this era: where new delicious desserts had appeared, good Cosmetics, beautifully designed clothes, and so on.

When dinner was about to begin, those who knew Altair's identity started asking, intentionally or not, about the future arrangements for those weapons and technologies.

"Count Sheffield, what are your thoughts on the weapons currently used by the military?"

Altair looked at the man before her, whom she didn't know at all, and said, "Since Emperor Roselle advanced the reform of gunpowder technology and applied it to weapons, it marked the end of the 'close-quarters charge' era of cold weapons. It has transformed into 'long-range firepower confrontation.' No nation's army can rely on numerical superiority to win anymore."

"When firearms become standard equipment for every nation's army, it comes down to a competition of weapons technology between countries. The side with stronger technology holds the advantage."

Those around nodded frequently at Altair's words. "Indeed, since Emperor Roselle's emergence, the mode of warfare has changed. Now, war is a matter of technology."

"Altair, about that 'New Gunpowder' technology of yours—have you considered setting up a factory? If you have any ideas, let us uncles and elders in on it..."

As the banquet ended, Altair boarded the carriage home, having achieved the purpose of attending this event.

Through the banquet, she had spread word that she planned to open a factory. When the time was right, she would host her own banquet, invite people to attend, and wait for others to bring her gifts.

Hoarding everything for herself wasn't wise—not to mention her own appetite wasn't great.

Even with help, she couldn't swallow it all alone. Properly giving up some "interests" in exchange for other "benefits" was the smart choice.

Besides, why would others help her unconditionally? They had the same idea—they wanted a seat at the table.

Offering voluntarily was always better than being forced, and this was just a tiny "breadcrumb" in her future plans.