Banquet Month

June 3, 1346

Bexland was also beginning to bustle with activity. Loen Kingdom's "noble" Banquet Month had begun.

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

The grand banquets were a way to show off their family's "wealth." They consumed enormous amounts of manpower and resources, and each one featured a wide variety of "exotic ingredients" and delicacies or rare foods, all to display the family's prosperity to the outside world.

As a result, Altair received a huge pile of invitations every day. If she didn't attend, she still had to send a reply to express her "regrets."

At first, Altair could manage, but eventually even she and her two maids couldn't keep up with the replies on their "typewriters." So she simply had Hahn take over the task and hired several people specifically to respond to invitations.

Even though Altair consistently refused to attend banquets and the number of invitations eventually dwindled, she still kept receiving invitations throughout "Banquet Month."

It wasn't until three months later, when autumn arrived, that "Banquet Month" came to an end.

During that time, Altair also needed to host banquets regularly. This was a way of announcing to the outside world that the Sheffields were still around, so other nobles wouldn't regard the family as "fallen on hard times" and exclude them from the core of the noble Social Circle.

Altair knew nothing about this sort of thing, so she simply let Hahn arrange the banquets. But when she thought about the true purpose of these gatherings, she took control of the guest list and decided for herself whom to invite.

June 5, afternoon.

Altair stepped gracefully down from her carriage, slightly lifting her skirt. She looked at the person before her and greeted him.

"Good day, esteemed Count Donovan. It's an honor to dine with you this evening."

"Good day, Count Sheffield. This lace gown complements your hair color beautifully. What an excellent choice."

Today, Altair still couldn't avoid attending the banquet at Owen Donovan's home. After all, he had helped her so much that it would be difficult to refuse him.

The standard greeting in "formal settings" during this period was "title + surname." In informal settings, people could use "given name + title."

After exchanging "greetings," Altair followed a servant's directions into the estate.

"So you're Altair Sheffield." Following the voice, she saw a girl in a pale green dress who looked like an elf, though wasn't her skin a little too fair?

The girl looked at Altair's confused expression and spoke. "I'm Hether Grant. You've probably heard of me."

At the girl's explanation, Altair recalled who she was and replied smoothly, "Good day, Madam Donovan."

To her surprise, the girl responded by giving her a solemn curtsy. "Good day, esteemed Countess Sheffield."

This left Altair completely flustered. She didn't know how to respond. I used an honorific because you're my elder! What are you doing, returning the favor like this?

Seeing Altair at a loss, Hether Grant stepped forward, took her hand, and said, "How does it feel? Strange, isn't it? You don't know what to say. Well, you did it first, and now you're the one feeling awkward."

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

"I don't like it when younger people show me too much respect because of my age or seniority. It makes it harder to keep a youthful state of mind."

Looking at the girl holding her hand, Altair's thoughts churned. Come on, lady! By age, you must be at least forty. How can you act like this? You seem even younger at heart than I am.

Hether Grant led Altair along as she spoke. "I've known about you for a long time. I've wanted to meet you for ages, but your father wouldn't let me visit your home. Still, this is fine. It's not too late to meet now."

"Come along, come along. You're the first to arrive today, so keep me company over afternoon tea and a chat. There's still a long time before the banquet begins. Once the others arrive, I'll introduce you to them."

As the moon and sun rose and set, the guests began to arrive one after another, and soon the estate was filled with music and dancing. During that time, Hether introduced Altair to quite a few people.

Perhaps because of Hether's personality, most of the people she introduced were young girls, many of them underage or only just of age.

Hether also introduced Altair to some older women, but only briefly. She wasn't particularly close to them.

Since Altair had never attended this kind of banquet, nobody knew her, and she didn't know anyone either. So she spent the time chatting with Hether and the others who weren't particularly interested in dancing, waiting for the banquet to begin.

Their conversations mostly covered the things young women of that era cared about, such as where to find delicious new desserts, good cosmetics, or beautiful new clothing designs.

Before dinner began, people from various families who knew Altair's identity began asking, either directly or indirectly, about the future of those weapons and technologies.

"Count Sheffield, what do you think of the weapons currently used by the military?"

Altair looked at the man before her, whom she didn't recognize at all, and said, "Ever since Emperor Roselle advanced the reform of gunpowder technology and applied it to weapons, the era of close-range clashes with cold weapons has become a thing of the past. Warfare has shifted to long-range firepower exchanges, and armies can no longer win through sheer numbers."

"Once firearms become standard weapons in the armies of every nation, the competition will come down to weapons technology. Whichever side has superior technology will have the advantage."

The people around her nodded repeatedly at Altair's words. "Indeed. Ever since Emperor Roselle, the nature of warfare has changed. Modern war belongs to technology."

"I wonder, Altair, have you considered setting up a factory for your New Gunpowder technology? If you have, perhaps you could let us uncles and elders take part..."

With the evening banquet over, Altair climbed into the carriage home. Her goal in attending had been successfully achieved.

She had spread the word at the banquet that she planned to set up a factory. When the time was right, she would host another banquet, invite people to attend, and wait for them to come bearing gifts.

It wasn't wise to keep everything for herself, to begin with. It wasn't as if she had much of an appetite.

Even with help, she might not be able to take it all. Giving up some "profits" in exchange for other "benefits" was the sensible choice.

Besides, why would anyone help her unconditionally? They wanted the same thing: a place at the table.

It was better to offer something willingly than to be forced to give it up. And this was only a tiny "crumb" from her plans for the future.