Chapter 9 - The World of Nobles

Matthew stared at the mirror in front of him. He could hardly believe that the reflection he saw was his. He was astonished at how he looked. If he saw himself walking down the street, he would believe that he was from the upper class at least.

He ran his fingers over his hair. It felt strange. His hair hadn’t just been washed, Miktan said that wouldn’t do. Instead, Jonson had thoroughly cleaned it. He then cut it and styled it. Where before, it had simply hung to his shoulders, looking like that of a mop, it now was pulled back, a short tail left at the back of his head. The sides had been cut short, long enough to remain visible, but so short that if Matthew ran his hand across it, it would scratch at his skin.

The clothes were completely different than anything he had ever worn, more than he had ever even thought of wearing. He wore the black slacks, the black silk shirt and the gray vest. The tailor had taken the liberty of working an elaborate pattern throughout the vest in a darker thread. At first Matthew had been upset at the change, however, seeing it now as part of the whole, he understood it and rather liked it.

He looked at the coat draped over the chair beside the mirror. He knew that putting it on would change nothing, but as long as it was left on the chair, Matthew held on to a last bit of hope that he could still manage his way out of the evening. However, he now felt indebted to Miktan. He’d gone through buying him the clothes and he and Jonson had worked so hard the last two days drilling him with the etiquette and unwritten rules of the upper class; when to bow, when to simply incline your head, when to stand, when to sit, when to speak and when to remain silent; there were so many rules that Matthew was certain he was going to forget one, if not all of them before the night was out. He was glad however that he wouldn’t have to dance, the two older men hadn’t had the time, nor the patience to teach him that. Miktan assured Matthew that at such an event as this one it was the role of the man to approach the woman to dance.

Matthew reached over and took up the coat, sliding his arms into the sleeves and shrugging his shoulders so that everything fell into place. He clumsily did up the buttons down the front, he was still horrible at those and the silk shirt had taken him nearly ten minutes to do correctly. He gave the coat a nice tug before looking back to the mirror. The coat fit perfectly and enhanced the appearance that he was of the upper class, if not a noble. He smoothed his hands down the front of the coat and traced the embroidery along the sleeves.

A knock came at the door, “Come in,” Matthew said, turning towards it.

Jonson entered the room, looking Matthew over before speaking, “You look quite dashing Master Matthew,” the man’s tone was no different than it ever was, but Matthew was sure he had seen a smile on the man’s face, “Master Miktan asked me to check on you, to be see that you were ready. The carriage will be arriving soon.”

Matthew looked himself over, “I’m pretty sure I’m ready Jonson, I can’t think of anything else.”

“I am, and can not, Master Matthew, please try your best to not use contractions this evening, it projects a lower education,” Jonson lectured.

"I did recieve a lower education Jonson, I can’t… can not help it,” Matthew shot back.

The lessons regarding his speech had been some of the hardest to take. Jonson and Miktan continually corrected him and expected him to speak without contractions and without slurring at all over the past couple days. It had grown quite annoying after dinner the first night.

“This party will be full of lords and ladies Master Matthew, as well as some of the high lords no doubt,” Jonson began explaining, just as he had every time Matthew argued with him on the topic, “They will expect a level of caliber of the people attending. While it is true that you are not part of their social circle, they will look down upon you if you speak as you always do and think that you are disrespecting them. It would be best if of you to try and hold to something of their standards in order to give them the peace of mind that they are in good company.”

Matthew sniffed before heading towards the door. Jonson took a step to the side to allow him through before taking up a position behind him, following him through the hall. Matthew moved quickly down the stairs. He was surprised at the softness of the boots and how comfortable they were. The boots were the first pair he had ever worn that were fitted for him. Every pair before had been stolen, or handed down from another in the gang. Neither case lent itself to a good fit.

Miktan stood at the bottom of the stairs. While Matthew’s wore a black coat, Miktan wore a white coat with gold embroidery along the collar and cuffs. His vest was a dark blue and his slacks were black, sharing in the gold embroidery down the outside of the leg. Matthew thought that the outfit was fitting for Miktan, though it would stand out far too much for Matthew’s taste. In his right hand he held a dueling cane, the top decorated with a talon grasping a decent sized emerald.

“Are you ready my boy?” Miktan asked as he grinned at Matthew.

Through the windows to either side of the door, Matthew could see that the carriage was waiting for them out front, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he shot a look at Jonson, expecting him to correct his use of a contraction, but the man stood silent and shook his head instead.

Miktan opened the door and motioned Matthew through. Matthew walked through into the street and breathed deep. There was something about the dusty air of the street of Garlin that calmed Matthew. He supposed it had something to do with his familiarness with them.

He took a few more steps and froze as shouts and whistling rang out from above him. His eyes shot up to see what was causing the noise. As his eyes focused in the light, he saw what he could only assume was the entire crew looking over the ledge of one of the flat roofed buildings on the other side of the street. They cheered and whistled, waving fists in the air and pointing at him. He could feel as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and a little anger he thought.

Matthew spun to face Miktan as he shut the door behind him, “How did they find out about this?”

“Oh,” he said as if it were no surprise at all to have more than a dozen people shouting at them from the rooftops, “well you see, when I sent Jonson to the warehouse with the writ of payment for your outstanding work the other evening, he may have let slip that you were going to be attending this function with me. He felt it was only fitting that Vansen know where you were going to be over the next couple days.”

Matthew shook his head and spun back around, stalking to the carriage. People on the street stared in wonder at what was going on, some with curiosity, others with anger. A few people shouted back for the crew to be silent, and some even took up throwing stones from the street. None of it had any effect on the commotion, it seemed to feed it, the shouts and jeers growing louder.

Matthew stepped into the carriage, Miktan following behind him. He had hoped once he was out of sight, the screams, shouts and whistles would stop. They did not. They continued as the carriage lurched, starting down the street. Even as they took the first turn he could hear the cries continue.
Matthew stared at the floor the entire ride, not saying a word. When he glanced up at Miktan the few times, the man just smiled as if it were all planned out from the beginning. Matthew thought maybe it was. Miktan worked that way, not leaving anything to chance as long as he could.

Finally Matthew felt the carriage begin to slow, finally coming to a stop. He felt it rock as the driver dropped to the ground. The door opened and Miktan stepped through first. Matthew hesitated. There was absolutely no way of getting out of it, but at least in the carriage he was still invisible to the rest of the world.

Matthew stepped out the door of the carriage and stared at the scene before him. Miktan had explained to Matthew that Lord Kensly saw little value in being overly extravagant and so he didn’t have a large stone keep like the rest of the high lords. However, looking at the manor before him, Matthew was of the opinion that it was every bit as awe inspiring as Keep Danar.

“Close your mouth boy,” Miktan said grinning at Matthew, “you are libel to swallow a fly if you leave it open.”

Matthew did as he was instructed and took position just to the right of Miktan, two steps behind. They climbed the few stairs leading leading up to two large doors that were swung open. As they entered the banquet hall, Matthew couldn’t help but stare. The inside of the manor was amazing. It didn’t have tapestries and statues that he had seen during the banquet in Keep Danar, but the simpleness of the room seemed to bring out the beauty of it. The entire room was wood, just as the entire outside of the manor was, but inside it shone. Matthew guessed that the wood was cherry by the color and grain of it, but he couldn’t be certain. Evenly spaced hung a few tapestries and murals depicting great battles or ceremonies.

Torches were fitting to the walls about fifteen paces apart. From the ceiling hung six chandeliers, each one holding dozens of candles that flooded the room with light. Round tables were spread across one section of the room, deliberately placed, each one fit with a white cloth and a magnificent centerpiece of flowers. There were two areas clear of everything, one larger than the other. Matthew assumed that one was for dancing, and another, with people currently milling about speaking with one another, was for conversations. A walkway, almost twenty paces wide encompassed the room.

A man walked over to Miktan from one side. He wore a dark purple coat with dark yellow along the wrist and bottom hem and he carried a heavy cane. Miktan leaned to the man, saying something that Matthew couldn’t make out over the noise of the room. The man then returned to his position at the side of the platform.

The man struck his heavy cane against a smooth piece of stone set into the floor twice and the room grew silent, “I present Master Miktan Lonstrat and his protege Matthew,” he said, his voice filling the room.

Miktan began down the stairs that led down into the banquet all and Matthew followed. Every face in the room seemed to be focused on the two. Matthew tried remain composed and not stare or make a fool of himself. He didn’t like having all those eyes trained on him. He could not help but notice that there were a few people that leaned in near each other and whispered something between them as they watched. To one side of the room, Matthew spotted a small group of young women, he guessed the had to be around his age, chattering and giggling quietly as they shot glances towards him.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, it was as if they were not there. Everyone turned back to their own conversations, or whatever they were doing before and continued along. Matthew watched as an older gentleman followed by a young boy.. The older man was of average size and height, but carried himself in a way that made him appear more intimidating than he was. His black hair, beginning to gray at the temples, was swept back. His full beard was trimmed short and well groomed. He wore a traditional suit, much like Miktan’s was. It was a deep blue in color and on the left breast the sigil of House Kensly, the hawk, wings flared and talons stretching, was readily visible.

The boy behind him, Matthew thought boy, though he was only a year younger than he was at most, followed close behind the older man. He had much the same look of the older man. Matthew guessed that he must be Jaron, Lord Kensly’s son, and the reason for the banquet, though Matthew thought that nobles needed little reason to hold a grand banquet such as this one. The boy’s hair was just slightly darker than his father’s, nearing black, and his face was clean. The major difference in the two was how they carried themselves. Lord Kensly walked and stood in such a way that demanded respect. Jaron however seemed to just stand and walk as any other. The other difference was their eyes. Lord Kensly had deep blue eyes but Jaron’s were a steely gray.

“Master Miktan, I am so glad to see that you could make it,” Lord Kensly said as they stopped before the two men near the bottom of the stairs.

“It was an honor to be invited, this is quite the display,” Miktan replied, giving a deep bow before taking the high lord’s hand and giving it a firm shake.

Lord Kensly turned to look at Matthew before speaking, “And this must be young Matthew that you wrote about in your reply. It is an honor to meet you Matthew, as I am sure you already know, I am Lord Maris Kensly.”

Matthew bowed, emulating Miktan as best he could, before shaking the man’s outstretched hand, “The honor is all mine Lord Kensly, I hope that I am not intruding on you and your guests,” Matthew said politely. Jonson had asked that he humble himself when speaking to the host of the event and Matthew did not want to give the High Lord any reason to distrust him.

“It is no problem Matthew, we have more than enough to share with you,” the man smiled as he spoke.
The tone in the High Lord’s voice caught Matthew off guard. He expected something different somehow. It did not give the same commanding, disdainful feeling that most of the other nobles Matthew came across did. It seemed almost friendly.

Lord Kensly motioned the boy behind him forward, “This is my son, Jaron. Jaron, this is Master Miktan Lonstrat. Back in my youth, he entertained many of us with his tales and songs.”

“It is a pleasure Master Miktan,” Jaron said politely but with an empty tone. He shook hands with Miktan before turning to Matthew, “and it is a pleasure to meet you Matthew.”

“The same,” Matthew said with a bow.

“Master Miktan, perhaps you would be so kind as to honor us with one of those songs to tales this evening,” Jaron said.

“I would be honored,” Miktan replied.

Lord Kensly seemed to notice something beyond the two he was speaking with, “Ah, I suppose we had better move on and speak to some more of our guests. You must find me sometime this evening Miktan, it has been far too long since we last spoke.”

“I will do my best Maris,” Miktan said with a laugh as the two others turned and headed off in the direction of another small group of people.

Matthew scanned the room as Miktan made his way through the groups of people, stopping to speak with some of them, introducing Matthew who remained as silent as possible. Matthew’s eyes fell on two men that stood near on of the walls. Each man stood stiffly, much like the guards did that stood around the room, and both had a sword on his hip, but their clothes were different. Each wore a dark green coat and black slacks that had a broad golden stripe that ran the length of the leg. One of the man’s coats was decorated with two stars on the shoulder and color, the other’s had only one. Each man had a number of medals hanging from the left breast of the jacket.

When they stood apart from any other people, Matthew motioned carefully towards the two men, “Who are they?”

Miktan stopped, looking in the direction that Matthew directed, “Hm? Oh, those are army officers, a captain and lieutenant by the stars,” Miktan answered, “it may not be a bad idea to speak with them, perhaps I can learn why so many soldiers have entered Garlin.”

Matthew thought that the second part was not for him, but he thought on it all the same. The two sat at and empty table with glasses of water sitting at each place setting. From time to time Miktan would point out groups of people, explaining who they were, giving their families and what they were known for. Matthew made mental notes of each one, not knowing if it would come in handy or not, but thinking it was better to have the information than not.

As Matthew scanned the room his eyes fell upon a group of young women. There was one in particular that caught his attention and held it. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He estimated that she was older than he was by a couple years at most, but that may have been part of her appearance playing tricks on his mind.

She wore a light blue dress that when the light hit is just right, it almost seemed white. The dress was unlike the ones that the majority of the other women wore. Instead of revealing her legs and bosom as the other women did, this woman’s dress covered her. The top of the dress followed her collarbone, leaving her shoulders bare. Instead of revealing her body, it hinted at it. The sleeves were tight around her upper arm but were cut at the elbow so that they hung down when she raised her arm, revealing her forearm and hand.

Her skin, what was visible of it, was creamy, pale and appeared to be ever so smooth, almost glowing in the light. Of all her features, her face seemed to be perfection among perfection. Her mouth formed an ever present smile which was also apparent in the area around her eyes. Her dark brunette hair hung in long waves, ending near the small of her back. Her clear, bright blue eyes sparkled in the lights of the banquet hall.

“Who is she?” Matthew asked, leaning to Miktan but never taking his eyes from the girl.

“Who? Oh,” Miktan sat quietly for a moment, “I, I don’t know,” the tone of his voice was akin to surprise, though Matthew paid it little mind, “I do not believe I have ever seen that young woman before in my life.”

“No doubt,” a new voice said. Miktan and Matthew both spun to look in the direction it came from as a large gentleman of about Miktan’s age Matthew thought, sat in one of the chairs at their table, “it has been a long time since you have been in Beldin old friend. That would be the young Lady Celes Debeart.”

“Telan!” Miktan said excitedly, “Why, it has been far too long since I have seen your ugly face. Frayed man, you’ve gotten old.”

The other man laughed as they shook hand across the table, “I can’t say that you look any younger than last I saw you either Miktan.”

“Debeart,” Miktan said, “I’m not familiar with that name. And from Beldin, what in the weave is she doing here in Garlin? Does it have something to do with those soldiers being here?”

Telan shook his head, “It has nothing to do with the shoulders, and it is no doubt that you haven’t heard of House Debeart, they only managed to get their house added to the great houses about a year back, though they have climbed to power in quick time. There are none that I have met that ever heard of House Debeart before five years back. They seemed to come from no where.”

Telan took a moment to take a drink of water before continuing, “As for why she is here, there is much rumor about that.”

Miktan raised a questioning eyebrow at the other man, “And I am sure that you have managed to weasel enough information out of everyone to piece together the truth?”

Telan laughed, “You know me too well Miktan,” the three leaned in together at Telan’s motioning hand, “From what I’ve learned, the young lady managed to displease her father in some way and she was sent here to live with her mother’s brother and learn some discipline, as well as to learn the ways of the Garlinian court.”

“Is that so?” Miktan commented as he turned back to look at the woman, “And who would her uncle be?”

“Lord Juston Bething,” Telan said plainly.

Miktan nodded as if he were beginning to piece the puzzle together that was the mystery of Lady Celes Debeart. “I must say that she isn’t too hard on the eyes,” Miktan said with a laugh.

“Indeed not, though I’m afraid she is a bit too young and we too old,” Telan’s gaze shifted to Matthew, “Your young friend however…” Telan let the comment drop off, implying the rest.

Matthew felt his cheeks flush and he tried to hide it by taking a long drink of his water. The two men laughed loudly, drawing looks from some of the closer tables.

“You should ask the girl to dance tonight,” Telan said, jerking his head toward the group of women Celes was a part of, “I doubt she’d be able to turn down a strapping young man like yourself.”
Matthew shook his head, “I assure that there will be no dancing for me tonight. I’d be as lost as a street-thief in this party.”

Miktan looked at Matthew with a glance that just made him grin, but Telan continued on, “All the better. Women like it when the man is lost, it makes them think that they can mold you into whatever they like.”

Miktan barked another laugh, “I am not sure that you are the best to be giving advice when it comes to women Telan, what wife are you on now? Four? Five?”

“The seventh just left me three months back,” Telan said, “but that’s beside the point, those marriages mean I have experience when it comes to how women work.”

The three shared a laugh and the conversation became Miktan and Telan trading jabs at one another’s life. Matthew was glad that the attention had shifted away from him. He was more comfortable watching from the shadows that being put on display for all to see.

He continually scanned the numerous people in the hall, reminding himself of the people Miktan had pointed out. However, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, he always found his gaze lingering back on Celes Debeart.