Chapter 8 A Walk around Town
The next day, Oscar had breakfast alone in the Salon of the Dawn. The weather finally seemed fair; he even thought he glimpsed a few rays of sunlight filtering through the trees. Still unsettled by the previous night’s dinner, he planned to distract himself today. After all, apart from each dinner Lady Brynn wished to share with him, he remained the sole master of his schedule, and he intended to spend that time productively.
When a young servant entered the room to clear the breakfast tray, he asked him to fetch Abélie. The girl arrived promptly, lively and cheerful; a stark contrast to the sombre expression she had worn during the journey.
“You asked for me, my Lord?”
“Abélie, pack your things; you’re coming with me to town.”
“To town, sir?” Despite her curiosity, she raised an eyebrow.
“I need my personal majordomo to accompany me wherever I go, don’t I?”
He crossed his arms; she regarded him cautiously.
“Majordomo? Butler? Like Mr Brennan?”
Even the young servant seemed perplexed.
“Of course. Since Her Grace has her butler, it’s only natural I have mine. Günther cannot reasonably take on such a domestic role, so it falls to you.” She began to protest, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand.
“Get ready and meet me at the entrance; we leave in ten minutes.”
Faced with his almost authoritative tone, the girl said nothing and hurried to prepare. Oscar, meanwhile, donned his long coat and short sword emblazoned with the Rivières crest.
Abélie, still taken aback, joined him at the Queen’s Gate punctually. He didn’t give her time to ask questions and began walking toward the town, accompanied by one of the Rivière soldiers.
“My Lord, will you explain this sudden promotion?” The girl asked once they were out of sight of the castle.
“Well, we’re staying here; my future wife gives me free rein to do as I please. So I figured I needed a butler.”
“Sir Oscar, you know, usually houses this vast are run by a single majordomo, or chief steward. If I become a majordomo, even without the skills, I might end up clashing with Mr Brennan…” she tried to reason. But Oscar wouldn’t hear of it.
“You’ll just learn on the job. I’m not a demanding master. As for Brennan, Lady Brynn has promised me almost unconditional freedom, so she won’t see an issue with having two majordomos in this castle.”
Abélie regarded him sceptically.
“Are you doing this out of spite? Did Lady Brynn annoy you this much?”
“Of course not; no lady could annoy me,” he replied sarcastically. “Besides, I don’t see what you’re complaining about. You wanted to investigate and poke your nose everywhere—now’s your chance, since you have authority over your peers.”
“Yes, yes… true. But I still don’t know what a majordomo does, my Lord.”
“Just follow my instructions, and maybe learn a trick or two from Brennan; he surely knows some.”
“Well… that sounds like provocation…”
Oscar said nothing, shrugging, a smug grin on his face.
The town of Mulberry lacked the floral charm of Eau-Claire, it was true. The main avenue Oscar and Abélie had crossed to reach the castle reflected the rest of the town: cobbled streets covered in snow and mud, stone houses, solid but dull, and few shops catering mainly to basic needs. There was only a jeweller, in a somewhat rustic and dim shop. Far from luxury, Mulberry exuded frugality.
And yet, Oscar was surprised to receive many courteous greetings as he strolled. The locals, unlike the usual indifference of the South, offered smiles here and there. Some even seemed ready to converse—before reconsidering upon seeing his stern look. Abélie, on the other hand, was delighted.
“It’s not as grim as I thought,” she said, looking around. “People are kind, even if the town has a rough appearance. I also expected it to be much colder.”
“We’re not yet in the depths of winter, if I’m not mistaken; it’ll be two more months before the harshest cold arrives,” Oscar replied, keeping his hands in his pockets.
“Ah… that’s not something I’m happy about.”
Suddenly, Abélie’s stomach growled. Oscar stopped, and she did too.
“Is that your stomach I hear?”
“Well, my Lord… I haven’t had breakfast yet. I usually eat around ten when few people watch the kitchen. And I’m not familiar with the castle servants’ habits, so it’s complicated,” she explained, embarrassed.
Oscar raised an eyebrow; the soldier remained stoic.
“You steal from the kitchens?” the young lord asked.
“One way to put it, yes; I help myself freely,” she replied.
Oscar sighed, shaking his head.
“You know, if my father had caught you, he would have had you whipped.”
“That’s exactly why I stay discreet, my Lord,” she said mischievously.
He rolled his eyes, more exasperated than angry, then glanced around before pointing to a small shop with a peeling yellow sign.
“Look, that sign looks like a bakery. Maybe we can get something for you to eat.”
“Only for me, Sir Oscar, you truly are generous,” she said dramatically, as she sensed the delicious smells from the shop.
Without acknowledging her theatrical tone, he headed toward the small bakery.