Of all the things that Lysandra could list of where she would rather be right now, this darn tea party would be at the bottom of the list. The weather was great, clear skies and just enough sunshine for comfort.
She could have been out riding her horse, if she had wanted, given the weather. Instead here she was sitting in the garden of Blanche D'Anser, dressed and dolled up in so many ruffles that she had lost count. The thing made her feel stuffy and sweaty, as if the weather wasn't 'nice' enough to have her break out in a sweat. Though, declining a tea party hosted by the d'Ansers wasn't an option. It was social suicide.
After all, Blanche was the brightest star of the capital's high society. With her small figure and hair so blonde as if blessed by the gods themselves, she was Blanche of the d'Anser family. The polar opposite of Lysandra Atar.
The Atar family wasn't nearly as affluent but it was warm and loving. With the elder daughter missing in action, all tasks fell upon Lysandra, which included responding to tea party invitations.
Yet, every man in the Empire had had some form of infatuation with Blanche ever since she had made her debut to high society. The newspapers had even written about how she might be the future empress, since the crown prince had danced with her on multiple occasions.
The thing they oh so kindly omitted when writing about her, however, was that Blanche was an absolute bitch.
Lysandra sipped her tea whilst eyeing 'society's brightest star' from the other end of the table. Blanche and her two spawns Doriana Chauna and Gabriele Marila were giggling about something.
The tea had been lukewarm and it was clear that Lysandra's cup had been filled last, leaving her with the most bitter cup out of the pot. She continued sipping as the aroma was rising to her nose. It was light and slightly bitter at the very best, but reeked of lowest on the social ladder.
The only reason Lysandra was invited to these parties was because of her father, the duke of the Atar family. The family was well known for its mercantile business within the Empire and had been trading for generations. Known for having strong connections around the world, the family imported and exported anything the Emperor desired and at his behest of course.
"Oh lady, Atar,'' Blanche called for her from the other end of the table, her tone sickeningly and unnaturally sweet sounding. Putting down her drink Lysandra offered a tight polite smile.
"Yes, lady D'Anser."
"We heard your father acquired a new set of ancient pottery from Khursh, requested by the Emperor himself'' Blanche smiled, her true emotions hidden behind a mask of socialite perfection.
Lysandra could feel the whole table turning to her, not just Blanche and her spawn but also the other ladies of the court who had been invited. All fifteen ladies eyed her in anticipation of her answer as they each put down their teacups to be all ears for the response Lysandra was about to give.
One didn't speak of the emperor lightly, so mentioning his majesty as part of the conversation always turned heads. Which was for better or for worse.
"Yes, my father's ship has indeed returned with a shipment of ancient pottery.'' She kept her answers polite and short, not wanting to give the woman any reason to engage or ask further questions.
Blanche raised her eyebrows exaggeratedly, feigning interest. "Oh my, it must have been so exhausting for you,'' Doriana Chauna said and giggled.
Lysandra was confused and turned to Doriana who was sitting across from her. "Exhausting? For me?" Something didn't sit right with Doriana's remark, Lysandra had taken the bait and this was exactly what Blanche and her spawns had been hoping for.
"Well for you and your mother having to clean all those ancient pottery pieces of course" Gabriele Marila said as another lady at the table choked on her tea upon hearing the remark.
"That is how you got those bags under your eyes? Did the pottery cleaning take that long? I can't imagine having to clean anything like that, after all, work like that is usually left for peasants." Gabriele quickly covered her mouth.
"Oh my I'm sorry. I had forgotten your dear mother is of low birth. How forgetful of me.''
Forgotten? Like all the other times she had called Lysandra a peasant and pretended to have forgotten her mother was lowborn. Blanche would be sure to remind her almost every chance she had.
That used to be whenever Lysandra was alone, but not anymore. Now she was saying it out in the open, at a tea party no less. Under normal circumstances Lysandra's sister Ambra would have been there, but she had been lost to the war.
With the simple clinking of a cup hitting a saucer, Lysandra was pulled from her thoughts. She looked around to gauge the reactions from the other ladies of high society, noticing that they were all speaking in hushed whispers. It was as if what Blanche and her spawn had said had been the truth. It was considered so demeaning that it could only be whispered.
"I must say" Lysandra broke her silence as the ladies turned to her once more.
"Today's tea party is lovely, the tea is excellent. Oh, and the tea cups are precious. Weren't these from last year's shipment? " Lysandra brought the cup of tea up to her lips taking a sip.
Some of the ladies gasped at Lysandra's response.
"Well then, I should take my leave it seems. One of my father's ships is returning today, they are bringing in a special shipment from Khursh." Lysandra stated and got up from her seat as the table had gone quiet.
"Really a shipment from Khursh?" Lady Marila whispered softly, Lysandra didn't bother answering as she pushed back her chair.
"The tea was delightful. Please, thank your servants for me.'' Sparing the woman another glance as Lysandra strode off.
"Be sure to thank your peasant mother for us, for cleaning all the tea sets before selling them to us!" Blanche had called after her.
"We had to clean them all again, but we appreciate the gesture."
Peasant?! How dare she call her mother a peasant! She walked away gracefully whilst cursing Blanche in her mind. Lysandra rushed through the estate in order to get to the stables where her carriage was waiting.
The hallway was covered in family pictures of the D'Anser family. Passing a big portrait of none other than the bitch herself before Lysandra seeing her own reflection in a mirror that was next to the portrait.
Lysandra let out a deep sigh as she regarded herself in the mirror. The young woman sighed. She hated dresses like this: her white lace top was buttoned up to half way of her neck, giving her the feeling she could hardly breathe. Her chest and stomach strapped into an old pink dress with poofy sleeves and ruffles of lace cascading down starting from her elbow. From her waist down it was just a sea of fabric, a mix of old pink and red symbolising the colours of the Empire.
Her brown wavy hair was pinned in an updo, set with a butterfly shaped hair clip. Lysandra dressed like any other lady in the capital, the difference however was her tall figure, standing tall at 176 centimeters without heels. Whilst the average height of the ladies in the capital was around 165 centimeters. Because of this, Blanche and her friends were always able to spot her from afar. Looking back into the mirror she could see how much Blanche's words had affected her.
Even if Lysandra didn't want to admit it, the sadness in her dark brown eyes spoke volumes. What she wouldn't give to just wear her riding pants or a less complicated dress. Shaking her head she focused back on her path back to the carriages.
A laughter erupted from one of the hallways as Blanche's brother Leonel stepped into the hallway together with his best friend Maxim Meleagris. Great, as if dealing with Blanche wasn't horrible enough. The bitch's brother had to be home. He was an infamous playboy. He and his sister were carbon copies of each other. Having the same blond hair, pale skin and always dressed in fine Imperial clothes. Showcasing the optima forma of a well established capital noble line.
Leonel wore a tailored brown suit with red detail on the pockets. He was tall, standing at about 185 centimeters. Towering over her, Lysandra didn't like him much. Leonel's best friend Maxim wasn't much better. He was the son of the Emperor's advisor. His hair ashen, suit much like Leonel's but was a shade of grey. He stood equally tall as his friend.
"Oh if it isn't lady Atar, it's a shame it's the wrong one. Your sister Ambra was so much prettier. What a shame she is dead." Leonel said with a sly grin on his face.
Lysandra bit her lip. Hearing that bastard mentioning Ambra's name felt terrible. How dare he speak of her without even using her proper title!
"She is not dead—'' Lysandra muttered as Leonel stepped closer.
"Talking back, peasant?" Leonel rose his voice, menacingly, trying to get a rise out of Lysandra. Clenching her teeth Lysandra walked away from them.
"Look at the peasant run.'' Maxim said after her, loud enough that he was certain she would have heard him.