Euphemistically Yours

Chapter 22 - Feast and Festivities



Thankfully, the rest of our afternoon passed uneventfully. We changed out of our nice clothing to keep them clean and proceeded with our usual schedules.

I spent some time talking to the head serfs representing the families that lived and worked on our land. My wife was in charge of the household servants since they were paid, but the land itself was my responsibility.

The womenfolk moved into their usual lessons and did their best to include Eu. From what I could see, she listened well and only spoke in order to learn new words.

Grit arrived well before dinner. His clothes were immaculate, so I knew he’d been careful with them. On the other hand, his face was dark. “I heard there was an incident with Eu near the river.”

I sighed. “Yes. She made quite a scene with Will, the young guardsman.”

“Someone said that she's your bastard daughter, and that I should be ashamed.”

“As we mentioned this morning, you know that’s not true. But it’s better for Eu if we let people believe that.”

He paused and gave me a long look before asking the big question. “Why is Eu so important?”

“Well…” I pulled him aside away from the servants. “That’s a difficult question to answer. Obviously, we do want to help her since she’s an orphan, but it’s not just altruism. Your mother and I discussed it, and we saw this as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity? How could this be worth it?” His face was still angry.

“Really, if anything, it’s for YOUR future, Grit.”

“Huh?”

“You saw how Eu has magic? That means the Duke is likely to give her a knighthood to ensure her connection to him and her loyalty, right? But a woman can’t hold land, so it would become the responsibility of her father and family.”

“Oh… so in the end, to match her status, you’d advance to become a knight too… and as your heir, I’d be a knight!”

“Right! But, if she wasn’t actually my daughter? What would happen then?”

He folded his arms. “The Duke’s charity protects orphans.”

“So, in effect, she’d be the Duke’s child, right? We'd get nothing.”

Grit spent some time thinking about it. “Father, I understand your reasoning now. Even so, if I had to choose, I’d rather remain a squire, or even lose my title. It’s not worth your name being dragged through the mud.”

I ruffled his hair, “My name doesn’t matter. I’ve done a lot of awful things in my life, but at least this time, I know I’m innocent.”

He returned my gaze and then nodded with a smirk. “Let them say what they will.”

That was a nice sentiment! In that moment, I couldn't have been prouder of him. Grit was growing up into a fine young man.

As we waited for dinner, he and I moved inside to watch as the girls recited what they had learned for the day. Since I’d been gone for nearly two weeks, this was an important moment for me, but also for them. I could see both Progress and Swift working hard to prove themselves to me.

Constance had chosen scriptures for the day that focused on peace, tranquility, and cooperation. Obviously, Progress had noticed the pattern, and was trying her best to speak the words without grinding her teeth. In contrast, Swift’s words spilled out with the sincerity of her innocent heart.

When it came time for Eu to demonstrate her work for the day, we were all surprised at her diction and accuracy. Unfortunately, when we asked her questions about what she’d learned, it became clear that she’d memorized how to string the words together without knowing what they actually meant.

This required some thought. I rubbed at my beard and looked at my wife. “I suppose it’s good enough for now. Later, as she learns more words, she’ll…”

I was interrupted by a knock at our front door. Since we weren’t expecting guests, I sent Grit to check while we all listened.

“Grit! Hahahaha! You’re getting bigger every day!” It was Brawn and his whole family - meaning his wife, his four sons, their wives, plus their grandchildren. Altogether, there were more than thirty guests at our front door. I lost count because so many of his grandchildren were interchangeable.

“Brawn? What brings you here?” I rose from my seat to greet him.

“My wife told me that you had a new daughter! That calls for a celebration!”

“Uhh… she’s not so new.”

“Whatever!” He laughed it off. “We brought a picnic with us!”

Looking at the baskets and rolled up tarps, I could see that his family had prepared quite a spread. In fact, I even spied two of his sons carrying kegs of ale over their shoulders. If it wasn’t for their infectious smiles, I would have been angry. But, Brawn had been a true friend for many years.

“Brawn, you rascal! You should have sent word. Our servants are already cooking dinner!”

“Hahaha! Don’t worry about the small stuff! Just bring that out too and add it to the mix!”

It took some doing, especially after Constance asked us to carry the dining table outside. Naturally, my children had already run off to interact with Brawn’s children of similar age. The exception was Progress who had disappeared, probably to hide her injured face in her room.

By the time we’d all settled down on the tarps on the lawn, it was growing dark. Fortunately, Brawn’s sons were expecting that and had already started a campfire, as well as a jaunty tune on a lute. The flickering light danced around, revealing all of our smiling faces. I couldn’t help but join in as the night became suddenly festive.

The baskets contained fruits, breads, cheeses, and a selection of smoked sausages. Not quite equivalent to that celebrated for a new birth, but certainly more than I expected. The most surprising part was the sheer quantity. On the other hand, watching his sons eat, I could see that Brawn knew what he was doing.

Naturally, I sat at the table with Grit, Brawn, and his first son. As two squires plus the heirs of our houses, our statuses were all similar, so we could easily interact as comrades. His other sons and grandsons sat on the ground around us, socializing among themselves as we talked. The womenfolk formed their own circles nearby, separated by age groups.

“So where’s your new daughter? I hear she’s a fighter! I suppose she takes after her father?” Brawn slapped my shoulder.

I scanned around, but initially I couldn’t see Eu in the flickering light. It wasn’t until I caught sight of her sneaking a peek into the dessert baskets that I pointed her out. “There she is. Trying to get an early start on the sweetcakes you brought.”

“She doesn’t look that tough to me." His thick eyebrows bristled at her. "Why is she carrying a sword?”

“It makes her happy.” I tried my best. When in doubt, be vague?

“Sort of spindly, wouldn't you say? My wife described her as ferocious ... like an angry bear.”

I laughed. “She may be small, but she gave Progress a black eye at the baths earlier. It was probably that.”

“Her hair’s awfully dark. Half-plainsman? How’d you swing that?” Now his eyebrows were bristling at me.

“Uhh… I’d rather not say.” That way, I wouldn’t have to lie. He could assume whatever he liked.

“Hahaha! Didn’t think you were that sort!”

I felt myself blushing. Luckily, the flickering firelight would conceal it.

Then he leaned in closer to whisper, “In fact, Deft, I KNOW you’re not that sort. What’s the story?”

His statement of support came as a relief. A true friend would never doubt my character so easily. “Er… I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. But, I’m doing the right thing.”

He slapped my back. “Of course you are! Now eat some more! This is a feast, right?”

I did my best to live up to his expectations, but there’s only so much I could stomach while keeping an eye out for trouble. Of course, trouble comes in ways that you least expect it.

“No sweetcakes for Eu! She’s already had her share!” That was Progress, who’d finally arrived, wearing a hat and a veil to disguise her injury.

Unfortunately, she was too late. Eu scurried away carrying a sweetcake in each hand. Not that big a deal, but Progress clenched her shaking fists and went chasing off after her.

“I’d better put a stop to that.” I stood up to excuse myself.

“You really shouldn’t. Let them hash it out themselves. My sons were fighting each other nonstop. It makes them tougher, right?” He turned to the side and slapped the shoulder of his eldest son. I was glad that for once, he slapped someone other than me. At the same time, I saw that he’d been holding back when smacking me. His son, a full grown man, was knocked off the bench onto the ground.

In any case, I didn’t have time for that. I was already running. Strangely, I wasn’t that worried about Eu. She’d already demonstrated enthusiasm and experience in conflict. Instead, I was worried that Progress was about to learn a hard lesson.

When I came around the corner of the house, I discovered that my predictions were correct.

Eu had somehow grabbed onto Progress’s arm, twisted it behind her and held it up in a lock. In contrast, Progress was kneeling down, facing the other way, and quivering in rage.

In a moment of clarity, I noticed that one of the sweetcakes was lying half-eaten on the grass. The other was held in Eu’s free hand. She was half the size, but she’d beaten Progress using only one hand? Luckily, she hadn’t even touched her sword.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Eu wasn’t done. That night, I discovered the fact that sweetcakes aren’t just food, they are implements of shame. Since she had Progress at her mercy, Eu brought the sweetcake to bear and started smearing the sticky bread into Progress's face and hair.

“Nooooo! Blech! Pffft! You win! You win!” Progress had kept on struggling silently until that exact moment. I guess that was the point at which she’d given up hope. Sweetcakes were scary!

“Eu! Stop!” Even though I was running, I still arrived too late to help. Progress was weeping openly by the time I could grab Eu and force her hands open.

Only after I had turned her around to face me, I saw the fingernail scratch-marks running down Eu’s face. Apparently, Progress hadn’t fought fair either.

“You two! You’re both in BIG trouble!” I’d never had to pull my children out of a fight before. I had no idea what came next. Usually, the children’s discipline was handled by Constance.

Progress didn’t even respond. She just stood up and walked away. I’d seen the same thing happen on the battlefield when someone had been mortally wounded. She was probably in shock.

In contrast, Eu was grinning as she called after her, “Cake face! Cake face!”

I picked Eu up, threw her over my shoulder and carried her inside the house. Since we’d already decided she’d be sleeping in the girl’s room with Swift, I threw her in there and shut the door. Then, I moved a table to block the entrance.

When she opened the door to examine her new prison, I realized that she could simply crawl through under the table. So, I caught her again and slammed the table over onto its side, facing the door. She could probably still go over it, but that would be harder.

The door didn’t open again. I guess she finally got the message?

I stood there for a moment, and found myself repeating Grit’s words from this afternoon. “How could this be worth it?”


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