A Mary Hunt Interlude
Mary Hunt stood unobtrusively, a drink in one hand. Despite standing right out in the open, no one noticed her.
There was a trick to it. Bend down your gaze just so, slump your shoulders, and cultivate a certain air of unremarkability. It was a delicate balance, since to go too far in any direction made you slip to from 'unobtrusive' to 'vulnerable prey' or 'terrible actor'.
She was Mary Hunt. Naturally, she'd learned to do this perfectly. Usually it helped to stand next to something, like a wall, a flower arrangement, one of those big empty pots that was just so tempting to imagine rolling at and breaking, but for Mary's purposes, standing next to a table with a small plate of aperitifs was sufficient. After all, the prey she was hunting were not the brightest torches in the crypt.
Lady Karen Chavalot and Lady Stacia Chaddington—not to be confused with the Braddingtons, who were all very nice people—were both daughters of Marquis and probably didn't remember Mary Hunt. Not as a person, anyway. They might remember trying to apply for the position of her lackey sycophants back when Mary had been eleven (even if she'd been inclined, they'd have been rejected for being too lacking to be lackeys). They might only know of her now as a lady of sterling repute they could only wish to be, with a royal fiancé, was close to Lady Katarina Claes, and whom the older generations seemed to constantly laud, but they apparently didn't know her enough to recognize her when she was standing only six feet away. They were too preoccupied making snide observations and being… well, the sort of people who'd have gotten their arms broken when Mary had attended the Academy. They were crass, petty, a stain upon the nobility, and unfortunately all too common (hah!) among the people who had gained their title of Marquis or Marchioness by being sycophants of, or spreading their legs for, the previous king.
Mary had a list, one she'd been keeping for years. She wasn't sure when she'd started it, but it was definitely sometime after she'd met both dear Katarina and Sophia. A list of people who she swore would get what they deserved. And for those people, Mary Hunt had plans.
Mary Hunt always had plans.
Not that she planned to do them today, but she had arrived early and so needed something to while away her time, and idly contemplating to move these two up the list sufficed. Really, these two hadn't really changed from when they'd been children. They were still the same small-minded, petty, mean, useless wastes of skin, all their growing having gone into their height and weight rather than their stats, as the ancients had called those ethereal internal qualities of inner strength.
The voice of the footman announcing new arrivals rang out, and Mary perked up as she heard familiar names. She left her position, not even looking at the two so-called ladies as the wine in their glasses suddenly seemed to jump up and land on the fronts of their dresses, the dark wine spreading to stain as they exclaimed their surprise and started accusing each other of being clumsy and of the stain being their fault…
It was small recompense for the juice they had thrown on Sophia at a party when she had been eight, but they had years of interest accrued on their accounts.
Mary approached the group, arriving in time to hear Maria's saying, "I wouldn't call those suits. Those trousers are much too tight. I'm surprised they don't tear at every step." Indeed, Mary noted, Maria's own trousers—the original set of the original Wanderer at her elevation, she noted wryly to herself— were much less restrictive, more like trousers men wore… which was probably because they HAD been based on trousers men wore.
Mary promptly ignored that, as she had much more important things to do. "Lady Katarina!" she greeted happily, throwing herself into the hug to follow. "You're here!"
"We're here too," Sophia said dryly.
"Oh, Mary!" her dear Katarina said, grinning. "You're here! Now that the girls are all toge—oh wait, have you seen Lalatina-chan?"
Mary pouted internally at her dear Katarina's thought immediately going to another woman, but it couldn't be helped. "She was over there somewhere," she waved, "talking to Lady Eris Tatyana about something. I wasn't close enough to make out what."
Maria sighed. "Squire, what have I told you about your Ashina terms?"
"It's a term used between close personal friends were no formality is needed," Katarina said, defending herself.
"I know for a fact you use that term with everyone," Maria said blandly.
"It's very multi-functional!" Katarina said staunchly as they moved away from the entrance to find a table to occupy.
Mary let herself take in her dear Katarina's perfect perfection. She was wearing a blue dress, but in addition to the usual accessories like the gloves and the little hip purse, Lady Katarina was also wearing a sword on a leather belt. The belt was secured with a blue ribbon that prevented it from being drawn, marking her dear Katarina as still a squire: allowed to carry a weapon, not yet trusted to have it easily to hand. Not that the ribbon did much to the weapon's lethality: Mary recognized the familiar hilt of her dear Katarina's wooden sword.
Maria, in contrast, was a dangerous commonerborne all the way through, with her saber in one hip and her short sword in another, more discrete sheath on the small of her back, hidden by her coat, which unlike her imitators around her had ample room to do so because it hadn't been cut to accentuate her shirt and tits. There was no sign of that horrifying and loud weapon Maria had invented, and Sophia didn't seem to be carrying hers either—ah, wait, spoke too soon, Sophia had them on her back, hidden under her mantle.
Really, why did all her female friends feel the need to go about heavily armed? Even Dame Matthew had a little round shield on her back, and she was wearing a purple party dress that bared her shoulders. Don't they realize all a lady needs is a good stabbing stiletto and some spray potions for blindess and paralysis in their purse and pockets? Still, she couldn't blame them. There were lots of Marchionesses around. You couldn't trust those, they were sneaky, underhand, conniving little bitches. Her father was a Marquis, so she would know!
"All right, my squire," Maria said as they reached an empty table. The servants had moved quickly, removing leftover plates and glasses from it. "Do you know what we shall do now?"
"Go to the buffet and get some food?" Katarina said hopefully.
Maria made a show of considering it. "Define 'some food'," she eventually said.
"Well, I was thinking a few cakes, about eight of those little appetizer things, three slices of that slow-roasted smoked meat I smell—"
"Parried," Maria said blandly. Dear Katarina actually seemed to stagger back at the word. "You will get only one of each, and will limit yourself to four things on your plate. And you will NOT try to get around this restriction by loitering around the buffet table and eating straight from the serving trays." Dear Katarina twitched at every word like she was being stabbed. "You are here as my squire, and you will show you have learned to behave yourself properly. When you become a knight yourself, you may revert to whatever habits you previously held. Until them, you will do as you have been taught. Understood, squire?"
"Yes, Dame Campbell," Katarin said promptly with just the barest hint of a sigh. She frowned. "Don't you mean if I become a knight?"
"I did not misspeak," Maria said evenly. "Now, as your hunger is unlikely to be debilitating just yet… Lady Hunt?"
Oh, were they finally being allowed into this conversation? "Hmm?" Mary said, snapping open her fan. "Did you say something, Dame Campbell?"
A true commoner, Campbell missed the true subtext of the fan. "I would beg a favor of you," the little blonde blood-fetishist said. "I am sure you are familiar with my squire's circle of acquaintances. Could I ask you to take her with you and introduce her to those she does not yet know, so that she may socialize? Shana has spent much effort teaching my squire proper etiquette, and I thought you would wish to see the fruits of your student's work."
Mary froze internally, her mind racing. Hex it! How dare she do this! To make Mary choose between seeing how dear Katarina had absorbed cute little Shana's teachings of Mary's lessons by having Mary spend time with the duke's daughter, at the expense of Mary just running off with her and spending time with her alone… ARGH! Truly, commoners were dangerous, with their native guile and craftiness! Almost as bad as Marchionesses!
"Why, I would be delighted to, Dame Campbell," Mary said with a bright, happy smile that cunningly covered up her turmoil at the dilemma. You win this time, Campbell…! "Come, Lady Katarina, I know some fine old centenarian gentlemen of a certain persuasion to introduce you to. I'm sure Lord Wilde and his husband would love to meet you, and I'm sure they in turn have many friends we can meet from there."
Maria nodded. "Thank you, Lady Hunt. My squire, know that should you act improperly, I will take it to mean that Shana has been lax in your teaching, and her dessert will be affected."
"You're too strict, Dame Campbell!"
Maria, that heartless swampborne Ghru, ignored the dual exclamation. "Do your best, my squire," she said blandly.
Dear Katarina gulped, but nodded, her eyes full of fear. "Yes, Dame Campbell," she said. "Come on Mary, introduce me so I can do well and protect Shana's desserts!"
Katarina marched off, full of bravery, determination and complete ignorance as to who Lord Wilde and his husband were, leaving Mary to have to take the lead.
Behind her, she heard Sophia say, "So just between the three of us, what would happen to Shana's desserts if Lady Katarina doesn't meet your standards?"
"Shana's dessert ration stays the same, and she will not receive the cake I baked in recognition of her teaching," Maria said. "Instead, the cake will be given to all the children, instead of Shana personally."
"Wouldn't Shana just take one slice and share it with all the other children anyway?" Sophia said.
"Your point?"
"It just doesn't seem to be all that different…"
No, there was a difference, Mary knew. In one scenario, cute little Shana gained acknowledgement for being a teacher. In the other, she just got cake. The distinction was important!
"Hey, Mary," her dear Katarina whispered. "These people you're going to introduce me to… are they nice?"
For a moment, Mary was about to answer… then felt the telltale sensation at the back of her neck, a sign she was being eavesdropped on with Wind Magic. She raised up her fan in a casual gesture and glanced at the polished gold of her bracelet, checking its reflection… there! Maria, Sophia and Matthew were trailing after them, Maria probably to 'assess' her squire, Sophia to interfere if Mary made a move and Matthew… actually, she still wasn't exactly what to make of her dear Katarina's cousin, other than to approve heartily at her intense enmity against the The ADVERSARY And Enemy Of The Alliance.
(She tried not to think about how that alliance might collapse soon, with the ADVERSARY so foiled by Duchess Claes' proclamation… After all, without an overarching foe to unite against, how could their alliance hope to hold together?)
She glared at Campbell's reflection for a moment before she snapped her fan again, the whole series of gestures looking like mere dramatics. Well, she supposed it would show a lack of faith in her cute little student if she gave her dear Katarina last-moment tips. And they were listening, so she could only resort to oblique and circumspect language, which was completely and utterly useless with her dear Katarina!
"If they weren't," Mary said gently, "does that really change how you would act, according to what Shana taught you?"
"Well, if they attack me, I can draw my sword…" her dear Katarina mused, "but that's not likely to happen, is it?"
Mary shook her head. "Lady Katarina," she said, and Campbell could try jumping if she considered this interference, "if you're not sure what you should do… just be yourself."
"I'm pretty sure that's not proper etiquette," her dear Katarina muttered. "In fact, I know it isn't."
"Well, at that point, the worst has already happened, right?" Mary said. "so just be yourself and make friends with them the way only you can do it. After all, friends don't care about your proper etiquette. Even Maria just nags you to remember it right."
For a moment, Katarina's eyes were hopeful… then she shook her head. "No. I'll etiquette the most etiquette etiquette to ever etiquette! Shan will get her dessert! If a knight can't protect a little girl's dessert, how can she do anything else?"
Behind her, she was pretty sure she head Sophia swoon, muttering something about Katarina sounding just like some character in some book.
Mary couldn't blame her. How, after all these years, could her dear Katarina still find ways to make Mary fall in love all over again?