Fluvia 80: Fluvia and the Cornewall Family 3

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Chapter 80: Fluvia and the Cornewall Family 3

The evening ended somewhat early, since everyone, especially since the youngest, Cousin Bertia, was so tired she nearly fell asleep at the table.

Hm? Cousin Bertia is 9 years old, so what?

You can’t compare her to us twins; Brother is an abnormal child, and I … well, I am technically 8 … but…

Since we had dropped all the formalities and were having dinner casually, Aunt Brigida drank a bit too much.

It seems like she’s too used to drinking together with her subordinates, all of them rowdy military men and women, and is often away from high society as she and her squad patrol the northern borders, so I feel like it can’t be helped that she’s used to drinking heartily.

It gets cold in the northern mountains, and there’s often very little to do in the small border towns.

It seems that her brother, Lord Reynard, and her oldest child, Harris, are extremely embarrassed by it, though.

I thought she was quite amiable, for a drunk.

All she did was lose her ability to control her speaking volume, and she still had the presence of mind to excuse herself before she got too drunk.

Admittedly, excusing yourself from the dinner table before the Earl and Baron haven’t taken their leave yet is usually unthinkable in high society, but Father and Grandfather aren’t going to hold it against her.

The maids also took advantage of Aunt Brigida leaving the table and used it to as an excuse to vacate Cousin Bertia and Cousin Jonathon, since Cousin Bertia was already just about to nod off as she waited for the dinner to end.

Since the adults intended to retire to a smaller, more intimate lounge for drinks and small talk, Brother and I were also excused, along with the rest of the table, and turned in for the night.

We’re going to be traveling the entire day tomorrow, after all.

It’s fine if the Earl and Baron and the Ladies were a little sleep-deprived during the journey, but if the household staff were then there was going to be problems.

“Do excuse Brigida. These past two years have been difficult for her, after all. I think she was just a bit too happy to see you and didn’t control herself.”

“I just hope she isn’t pushing herself too hard…”

As Brother and I returned to our room, the last I heard was Lady Marietta and Mother speaking somewhat softly as they followed Grandfather, Lord Reynard, and Father into the lounge.

–

The next morning, I woke up as early as I normally do.

Which is still after Brother.

I don’t know if this was Fluvia’s original nature or if it was due to the illness, but I am NOT good at waking up in the morning.

I don’t doubt that low blood pressure plays a role in this, but that’s not something I can confirm currently.

Perhaps I should mention something about that next time I visit the lab…

Compared to my bleary-eyed, dull-headed appearance in the morning, Brother has no problems waking up and bounding out of bed.

I vaguely remember his bustling about as he and Sir Lucas readied themselves for early morning training, but I obviously fell back asleep, only waking up now.

How disciplined, Brother… we’re even traveling; is it okay to waste your energy like this?

As for me, I’ll have to trouble Tyrabeth and the other maids to get me ready.

Since we’re on the road, Brother and I are sharing a room with our personal maid and aide; since we haven’t debuted yet, it’s not a problem for me to share a room with Sir Lucas and Brother to be in a room with Maid Tyrabeth.

Afterwards, though, we’ll be regarded to be ‘officially’ of age to be considered for marriage once we debut, so we’ll have to sleep separately.

This is the last time I’ll get a chance to share a room with my brother, barring extenuating circumstances.

Still, I’ll probably be sharing a room with the maids and Instructor Fionna on the way back, and Brother will be with Instructor Dale and … Edgar? The butlers?

I’m not sure.

I do know that sharing rooms with the servants is not a typical move among nobles, especially for nobles with a high status like Father.

I’ve heard of nobles who would rent out entire inns so that each member of the household can have their personal room.

It honestly seems like it would be a huge nuisance to other travelers, especially in this sort of season where merchants, traders, nobles, and all sorts are seeing a chance to make a quick profit during the Debut Season, even if the season hasn’t technically started yet.

Since we already have such a large entourage, bringing along almost the entire PR Committee and adding the Cornewall Baron’s household along with them, Father decided that we should minimize the amount of rooms we would take up.

Just saying, it’s this kind of thing that used to be the reason he was belittled as an idiot noble.

I mean, even if we weren’t going to buy out the entire inn, there’s no reason for the Earl and Lady themselves to have to share rooms with their personal maids and butlers, but Father is an all-or-nothing kind of a guy, the kind that thinks in extremes.

Luckily, now, with the Dellarose Earldom becoming so prosperous and having clearly earned the Crown’s favor, this kind of behavior is making him known as a magnanimous noble instead of an idiot noble.

Public opinion can truly be whimsical at times.

I yawned as Tyrabeth helped me get dressed.

“What is the schedule for today?”

“Yes, My Lady. Today we will be leaving shortly after breakfast.”

As I was getting ready, I peeked between the curtains, looking out the window at the chaos that was going on in the inn’s yard.

“… I understand Brother’s enthusiasm towards training, but …?”

Out in the yard is the usual members of Brother, Sir Lucas, and Instructor Dale, as well as Father, who usually attempts to join if he has the time, but joining them are Aunt Brigida, Uncle Reynard, Harris … … and Edgar?

Eh…

Aunt Brigida aside, I completely thought Uncle Reynard was the type to prefer thinking to moving… …

… It’s too early in the morning for this.

I decide to ignore what I just saw and move towards the private room for breakfast.

Within the room was Mother and Grandfather.

“Good morning Mother, Grandfather.”

I curtsied as prettily as I could as I greeted them.

I wonder where my other cousins are.

I suppose they’re either sleeping in, or maybe they’re taking their meals in their rooms.

“Good morning, Fluvia, dear.”

Mother smiled gently as I entered the room.

Unlike the previous night’s dinner, only the actual Earl and Baron’s families are having breakfast in this room.

To begin with, breakfast is a ‘take at your leisure’ affair in Valed, so it’s probably easier for everyone else just to head down to the inn’s dining hall as it’s convenient for them.

“Hoho, Fluvia was certainly very quiet last night. Were you tired?”

Grandfather asked, doting as he usually does.

I just smile as I sit down, while Tyrabeth and the serving maid, Maid Karol, deftly set my place and pour my tea.

Coffee would be preferable, but coffee beans and chocolate are the two things that are completely out of my reach at the moment.

Would they have it in Alibrand…?

I’d like to go someday, although I’ve heard that the circumstances in Alibrand aren’t good.

But even if they have a civil war, it shouldn’t effect us.

That said, I’m thinking too far into the future.

Just saying, Alibrand isn’t actually at the cusp of a civil war. It’s easily avoidable if they take care now to shore up the unrest amongst their royalty-and-peripherals.

It would have been easier if their emperor could keep it in his pants, though…

Well, not Valed’s problem, and not my problem.

Besides, there are smart people in Valed’s government, so they’ll keep an eye on the situation even without some young daughter of an Earl meddling.

While I’m pondering this very (un)childish dilemma, Mother sighs and says,

“Would you believe, Fluvia dear rode a horse all the way here? Even though she knows she should watch her body – furthermore, Instructor Fionna didn’t even stop her!”

Hm. It’s an improvement that Mother actually admits that I’m at all at fault.

I think, if things continue in this direction for the next few years, my dear parents will be fine even if the ‘story’ starts.

I wonder if I’m not at all concerned about the story because I hadn’t played the game myself.

After all, even if there was a ‘story’ set in this world, involving these people, it’s stupid to think of it as ‘just a story.’

This isn’t a game, this is my life, and I’ll only trust in the things I have seen and experience.

Therefore, do your best, storyline!

That said, it’s still 7, no, 8 years into the future.

That’s right, most of the capture targets, and myself and Brother, are actually a year older than the heroine, so the story will start when we turn 16, not 15.

That’s another 8 years…

Certainly, it’s possible that my family could ‘relapse’ in that period of time, but I don’t think it’s likely.

In the first place, I don’t plan on stopping the progress that we can achieve with all our resources and our status, so it’s unlikely that Mother and Father will get a chance to regress.

After eating a little breakfast, I had woken up enough to be able to engage in some small talk with Mother and Grandfather, as well as snapping myself out my bad habit of overthinking, and before I knew it, it was nearly time to get going.

As I waited in front of the inn for the coachmen to bring the carriages around, I noticed Edgar and Harris, both looking a little tired.

“Good morning, did you have a good rest?”

I asked, curtsying towards Harris.

Harris merely gave a wry smile and some sort of affirmation, but Edgar sighed.

“It probably would have been better if we hadn’t been dragged into the training this morning.”

… As I thought.

I stifle a laugh as Edgar stretches a little before excusing himself to confirm both the schedule and the state of the carriages.

As he does so, Cousin Harris, looking a bit confused, asked,

“Is it alright that he acts so informally?”

Ah … Harris is at that age where he has to be concerned about all the formalities of an adult, after all.

“Even though he appears to be young, he is our Steward,” I reply.

It’s hard to remember, since Edgar IS younger than the average Steward, but the Steward of an Earl has a rather high status.

It’s at least on par with a Baron, if not a little higher, due to overseeing much of the Earldom’s government.

But, again, Edgar is only 19, so it always feels like people unfamiliar with his achievements within the Earldom tend to treat him more like an apprentice.

But I swear, he’s a fully functioning, independent Steward, geez.

Even though a 15-year-old is an adult, it really doesn’t stop people from underestimating them.

I suppose even in modern Japan, one comes of age at 20, but the senpai at a company won’t be trusting any fresh graduate with any work of importance for quite some time.

“Did Cousin Harris also participate in this morning’s training?”

I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

I mean, he’s my cousin, so I’d like to get to know him a little better.

Furthermore, these past two years have been difficult for both Aunt Brigida and her children, so it would be better if I took care to mind them a bit more.

“Ah … yes, well… Mother believes in consistent, rigorous exercise…”

… I see.

While I was trying to decide what I should say next, the carriages rumbled up.

Ah… it seems like Brother wants to try his hand at riding a horse again today, but I, naturally, am not.

Not only did Mother forbid me from it, even Instructor Fionna advised me to take it easy today.

I’m not a willful, stubborn girl, so I’ll naturally listen to them.

Even though Healer Rudolfo healed me last night, it wasn’t completely, and I’m still quite sore.

“Will Cousin Harris ride as well?”

When I asked, Cousin Harris shook his head.

“No. Not today. I’ll be helping the coachmen keep watch, instead.”

Cousin Harris smiles kindly, but I feel like it’s a bit strained.

It’s not that his smile itself is strained, but rather… his nerves?

He just feels like a stretched rubberband.

As I ponder what that could mean, Brother walks his horse over, a bit of a glower on his face.

… But even after he comes over, he’s just standing there, looking a bit sullen.

“Is something the matter, Brother?”

I asked a bit apprehensively.

Brother screws his face up a bit before he finally mutters,

“… I lost.”

“Eh?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but Brother’s follow up clued me in.

“I lost to Aunt Brigida.”

From the look on Brother’s aide, Sir Lucas’ face, it seems like it was a pretty decisive loss, which Brother likely hasn’t had since his spar with Commander Margrave.

But, I mean, all of his spars are arranged to be with people close to his ability, even if they were older than him, so isn’t it obvious?

Brother, did you actually expect to be able to best an active Captain of the Royal Militia?

… Boys, be ambitious, I guess.

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