#018. You’ll Have to Keep Attending These Boring Banquets
Cheongneung still held the cup to his lips as he listened to her. Baekryeon spoke haltingly, as if trying to organize her thoughts.
“As you said… perhaps there’s no need for this anymore. Maybe just holding an ordinary banquet would be fine. But, I… have no talent for that…”
What is an ordinary banquet, really? Baekryeon had never relaxed even at someone else’s banquet. She had never once gotten drunk or let herself go. She had never made a single mistake.
Yi Baekryeon always had to be perfect. She had once been the heir from a collateral branch, then a clan head, then a vassal of an emperor who was constantly under suspicion. For decades, she lived a life where even the slightest flaw could be fatal.
And so now, she no longer remembers how to be imperfect.
“…And you’re not planning to learn that now?”
Could she at least consider letting go of perfection, relaxing her shoulders, and living comfortably from now on? No one doubts her anymore. Everyone bows their heads and submits to her.
Baekryeon smiled quietly. What Cheongneung said wasn’t even half of what he really wanted to say—but Baekryon understood all the words left unsaid.
The time they had spent together made that possible.
“Your Majesty.”
“I’m listening.”
“I can learn the method. But carrying it out is another matter… I cannot stop this.”
“I see.”
Cheongneung let out a sigh, though his voice remained gentle.
“Then there’s no helping it.”
With a gaze as soft as his voice, he looked at Baekryeon.
“You’ll have to keep attending these boring banquets.”
Cheongneung wished Baekryeon would live an easier life now. After finally gaining recognition and securing an unshakable position.
But if she couldn’t, or wouldn’t—then he would at least help carry the weight of her heavy life. Always, so that no one would ever dare oppose Baekryeon again.
Even if it meant creating a new noble title that had never existed before, or crafting a lake of wine just for her.
“Your Majesty’s grace covers the heavens and the earth.”
The empire’s first Grand General bowed flawlessly with a serene smile.
*
“Your Highness, preparations are complete. Would you like to see it?”
I opened my eyes. The fading edge of a dream brushed past my fingertips and slipped away.
Why is it always the pleasant memories that come back in dreams? Those times won’t return again.
“Okay. Let’s go see.”
Suppressing the emotions that tried to rise, I rubbed my eyes with my short arms.
Normally, Tula would’ve rushed over in worry, gently cupping my cheeks and asking, “Are you alright, Princess?” But now she stood three steps away, perfectly still, addressing me with the proper formality: “Your Highness.”
Good. Tula’s preparation is flawless.
I checked both the party venue and the kitchen. Not just the two rows of servants, but also the tablecloths, flower vases, tea leaves, teapots, and the teacups.
I even opened the tea tins and examined the leaves for impurities. It was an almost excessive level of meticulousness.
After completing all the checks, I looked at the clock. 3:20 p.m. There were 40 minutes left until the tea party, as written on the invitations.
Time to change clothes. While I’m changing, I’ll recheck everything in case anything has changed. Guests should start arriving soon.
I turned and held out both arms to Tula.
“Help me get changed.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll assist you.”
Without a smile, Tula gently lifted me in her arms.
The guests attending the tea party were all very distinguished. Starting with Duke Randolph, who arranged the gathering, and Melchizedek, followed by a duchess’ daughter, a border marquis’ grandson, the northern duke’s younger sibling, and others.
For Ella, a maid, these were nobles of a rank she normally would never even glimpse from afar. Yet she wasn’t nervous. She no longer had enough of a sense of self to feel anxiety.
“Duke Randolph has arrived.”
“Lady Martina, daughter of the Duke, has arrived.”
“Heir to Marquis Argon has arrived.”
Her tone was neither too light nor too stiff. No eye contact with the noble guests. Keep your back straight, move only your wrists.
Just as she’d been drilled for the past two weeks, Ella moved like a machine as she checked off the guest list.
Even after all names were checked and the drawing room door closed, Ella’s spine remained straight.
The children inside the room didn’t spare a glance at the tapestries or ceiling murals.
It wasn’t because they didn’t recognize beauty—they simply wanted to assert dominance. If they admired what Blanche had prepared, they would be admitting her capability.
“Thank you all for coming.”
Unlike Ella, who only checked names, Blanche met each gaze and greeted every guest personally. The children’s eyes focused on her.
Her outfit wasn’t in line with current trends, but the details were meticulous.
Lace sleeves that reached over the back of her hands, buttons fastened all the way up her neck, and a lace-adorned headdress. Any normal child would’ve wrinkled such a get-up within five minutes, but Blanche sat as perfectly as a doll, not a wrinkle in sight.
Had there been any adults present who had raised children before, they might’ve found Blanche’s too-perfect appearance unsettling. But all the guests were children between five and seven.
So they didn’t notice how eerily composed Blanche was—instead, they picked a fight.
“Aren’t you hot? In this weather?”
They were mocking her high-necked dress and how she’d buttoned it all the way up.
“Right? And besides, that looks so… old-fashioned. You could’ve worn something cooler, showing a bit more neck.”
Insinuating she was behind on fashion trends.
“Hey, you shouldn’t say things like that. Blanche just arrived from the Kingdom of Lamore, remember? Of course she wouldn’t know the trends here.”
A jab at her status as a hostage.
Naturally, every child here held a grudge against Blanche even before meeting her.
The reason was simple—they had all once been considered candidates to be Melchizedek’s playmate.
Berken, wanting desperately to find his son a companion, had brought in every suitable child and arranged meetings. Melchizedek, however, rejected them all with various excuses.
So now these proud, highborn children saw Blanche, a princess from a weak kingdom, taking the position they’d failed to secure—and they were seething with resentment.
“A wise person follows the teachings of sages, while a foolish one forgets them.”
Despite the biting sarcasm thrown at her instead of greetings, Blanche remained composed. She didn’t tear up; instead, she quoted an old proverb with her still-clumsy tongue, making her words hard to understand.
Her pronunciation was terribly unclear for such a long, difficult phrase, so the children couldn’t fully grasp what she said and couldn’t snap back.
“Well then, shall we go in? This way, please.”
That, in fact, was exactly Blanche’s intention. She didn’t want to argue—she just wanted to shut them up. So she changed the subject before they could comprehend.
By the time the children realized they’d just been called ignorant fools who couldn’t uphold tradition, they were already seated.
At that point, getting angry would only make them look slow-witted. So instead, they just sat with annoyed faces, waiting for another chance to nitpick.
Unlike Ella, who only helped check the guest list because she worked in the kitchen, Stella—who handled cleaning—was given a much heavier task: serving.
Normally, tea parties with such high-ranking guests would never employ mere maids or servants to serve. They’d use ladies-in-waiting or pages from fallen or minor noble families.
But Blanche, who despite being the duke’s designated companion, still lacked any real power, couldn’t use imperial nobles.
So she drilled her commoner-born servants, training them to act like noble attendants. In just two weeks.
Kitchen staff who made tea and desserts were used before the event, while those like Stella, with no duties during the tea party, were assigned to serve.
This led to Stella doing something she’d likely never do again in her life. The guests were technically high nobles, but since they were just children, the tea was mostly light herbal blends and the desserts were mostly fruit.
“Tea, please.”
At Blanche’s gesture, the attendants stepped forward and poured tea. Normally, tea is brewed on the spot so the timing can be controlled, but this method was… old-fashioned in many ways.
After reflexively sipping the served tea, the children resumed their failed attack.
“There’s no lemon at all.”
The first to speak was Lady Martina, daughter of the Duke.
