The Banquet Society

Three days passed in a flash. Late in the afternoon of the appointed day, Charles waited outside his home, newly dressed in fine clothes that he and Joseph had picked out. As they had arranged, a carriage arrived to collect him; Joseph was heading first to pick up Isabel, then planned to meet him at the banquet.

When Charles's carriage reached the inner royal district, he alighted before a grand mansion, its grounds alive with the trappings of high society. Well-dressed nobles flowed steadily inside, smiling and chatting. At the mansion's entrance stood attendants checking invitations. Each arriving guest presented their letter, after which an usher announced the guest's name and title in a ringing voice before escorting them into the party.

"Lord Henry Blackwell," came one such announcement.

Charles turned toward the sound. He spotted a tall, portly middle-aged man in an elegantly tailored dark suit. He recognized the name Henry Blackwell—renowned for his charitable deeds, especially large donations to several orphanages in the city and the establishment of a foundation aiding the poor. Henry's kindly face and gentle demeanor shone as he greeted those around him, then continued into the mansion.

Charles lingered outside, expecting to meet Joseph, but was prepared for the possibility that Joseph might have already gone in. He decided he would wait a short while.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before the Cavendish family carriage arrived. The door opened and Joseph stepped out first, followed by Rebecca, then Miranda, and finally Isabel, Edward's daughter. Joseph walked over to Charles, standing tall and confident in a midnight-blue silk coat embroidered with gold thread. Beneath it, he wore a white linen shirt; his short-cropped golden hair was neatly tied back, and his light blue eyes sparkled with energy.

"How long have you been waiting?" Joseph asked casually, greeting his friend with a warm familiarity.

"Not long. I just got here myself," Charles replied, though his attention was already drawn to the women accompanying Joseph.

He smiled in a friendly manner at Rebecca, who had once cared for him during his amnesia at the Cavendish mansion. She wore a flowing cream-colored gown with delicate gold embroidery, fashioned from soft, lightweight silk. Fine lace accents gave the dress a sweet and graceful touch. Her hair was pinned up with a few loose strands framing her face, and small pearl earrings matched a slender necklace bearing a pale-colored gem. She returned Charles's greeting with a gentle smile.

"Good to see you again, Charles," she said. "You look well."

Charles then glanced toward Miranda. She stood poised in a sweeping crimson silk gown, expertly tailored. Her black hair had been styled meticulously, and her striking features were offset by eyes of a captivating blue-gold hue—an inherited trait from her grandmother. She gave him a faintly cool smile. 

Charles immediately tensed, his manner becoming more formal. He bowed respectfully to Miranda, showing deference to this influential woman while secretly hoping he wouldn't be drawn into anything complicated with her tonight.

Finally, his gaze shifted to Isabel, a young lady in a light-blue floral dress. Her face lit up happily at the sight of Charles, who greeted her with a wide, kindly smile and a small wave.

"You look lovely tonight, Isabel."

"Thank you, Mr. Charles. Are you feeling better now?" she asked.

"No need to worry. I've recovered completely."

"That's wonderful to hear," Isabel answered softly, smiling sweetly.

With that, Joseph guided everyone inside. He led his family up the steps to the entrance, presenting his invitation to the attendant stationed there.

"Joseph Cavendish, together with my family and our honored guest, requests entry to the banquet," Joseph announced, his voice ringing clear as that of any aristocrat.

The attendant thoroughly examined the invitation, then bowed respectfully. "Welcome, Lord Joseph, Lady Rebecca, Brigadier Miranda, and Miss Isabel, to Darcy Manor. Please proceed to the main banquet hall—everyone is looking forward to your arrival."

The Cavendish party stepped confidently through the doorway, the ladies moving with graceful poise. Charles followed right behind them, handing over his own invitation.

"Charles Ravencroft, detective, here by invitation," he introduced himself, offering a small bow. The attendant took a moment to verify the letter, then nodded and waved him through.

"Welcome to Darcy Manor, Master Charles. This way, please," the attendant said politely, directing him to the mansion's grand reception hall.

As Charles entered, he felt an immediate rush of awe. His heart pounded and nervousness crept through him. Even in his finest attire, he couldn't help feeling like an outsider. Gathered here were prominent figures—nobles and wealthy merchants—clad in the most exquisite finery. Everything gleamed beneath the brilliance of crystal chandeliers. The massive hall boasted marble floors, carefully polished to a mirror sheen, and the walls were adorned with ancestral portraits. A live orchestra, positioned at the far end, filled the space with enchanting music.

'How overwhelming the grandeur of high society is,' Charles thought, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath to prepare himself for facing a world so different from what he was accustomed to.

His eyes fell on a man who appeared to be the evening's host—Christopher Darcy—standing in one corner, personally greeting guests. He was a tall, middle-aged gentleman in a refined suit, his short silver-gray hair neatly groomed. His courteous smiles and friendly manner struck Charles as a contrast to many nobles who preferred to keep others at arm's length. Charles recalled having heard about Christopher's forward-thinking reforms regarding taxes and trade. Though opposed by certain conservative noble factions, Christopher had persisted in his convictions, earning the king's trust despite not hailing from an ancient aristocratic line.

At that moment, Joseph—already a few steps ahead—glanced back and spotted Charles standing still. He excused himself from his group and returned to his friend's side.

"You okay?" Joseph asked, placing a reassuring hand on Charles's shoulder.

Charles managed a wry grin. "Yes, I'm just… not used to this grand scene. So many wealthy people under one roof."

"Don't worry. You always land on your feet. Come on—I'll introduce you around." Joseph led Charles over to a group of prominent guests.

Joseph handled the introductions, and Charles greeted them graciously. Some appeared pleasantly surprised at his name.

"You're that famous detective, aren't you, Mr. Ravencroft?" one man asked with genuine enthusiasm. "I've heard quite a bit about you—particularly the Robert case and his maid."

"Yes, I also remember reading about that," another guest chimed in. "And wasn't there the mystery of that death in a rural village somewhere? I heard you solved it."

Charles gave a modest smile. "I was just doing the job I was hired for."

"Nonsense. You're far too modest," said a different noble. "Talents like yours aren't often found—you close cases in remarkable ways."

"Quite so," Joseph added, patting Charles's shoulder. "He's excellent at what he does. No matter who the culprit might be, he finds them every time."

Charles was surprised that his reputation had reached so far, and more so at how warmly these aristocrats welcomed him. The conversations progressed smoothly, with little sense of class divide that he'd feared.

After Joseph had finished introducing Charles around, the three ladies drifted off in separate directions. Rebecca joined a circle of noblewomen. Almost immediately, she noticed their stares—particularly from unmarried women around her age—who whispered scornful remarks. They spoke of how a mere commoner like her wasn't worthy of Joseph Cavendish, who was, in their view, an ideal match for someone of better lineage.

She caught snatches of their whispers:

"She's so lucky, marrying Lord Joseph like that."

"Look at her—just a baker's daughter, playing the refined lady now."

Rebecca's chest tightened at their comments. Still, she fought back tears and maintained a composed smile, determined not to show any vulnerability.

Joseph, meanwhile, was nearby, mingling among other respected guests. He overheard the disparaging tone directed at his wife and felt a flash of displeasure. However, he kept his composure as he made his way over. Stepping into the circle, Joseph planted himself confidently at Rebecca's side.

"My wife is a woman of great generosity," he said in a firm, clear voice. "Not only does she help manage our family affairs, but she also actively supports numerous charitable events."

He spoke loudly enough for the gossiping women to hear. They flushed, some hastening away in embarrassment. Rebecca glanced gratefully at her husband, though she had never wanted him to feel he must defend her. Even so, his support warmed her heart.

Joseph leaned in and murmured, "Pay them no mind. To me, you're the most wonderful woman here."

She nodded, her eyes softening. With Joseph by her side, she found a new sense of courage. Fortunately, many of the already-married noblewomen proved friendlier. They welcomed Rebecca into their own conversations with courtesy, allowing her to speak with them easily enough, even if not intimately.

Meanwhile, Miranda scanned the hall and caught sight of a familiar face—Elizabeth, a long-lost friend. She wasted no time in approaching her.

"Elizabeth, I'm so sorry I left so suddenly before," Miranda said quietly.

Lady Elizabeth smiled warmly. "Don't worry at all; I understand. You must be busy in your post as a brigadier."

They soon found themselves joined by other acquaintances from Miranda's earlier life—before her military career. They reminisced and spoke of how their paths had diverged.

"How many years has it been since we last met? Since Lord Richard's birthday, wasn't it?" one friend recalled.

"Yes," Miranda said with a small smile. "Back then, we were still dreaming about our futures."

"And now you've accomplished yours," someone said admiringly.

"None of us ever imagined we'd see a woman promoted to such an important rank."

"Elizabeth's come a long way too," added another friend. "I heard she was just made an advisor in the Diplomatic Council. It seems big changes might be on the horizon."

Isabel, for her part, chose to mingle with a group of young people out on the terrace. Laughter bubbled from them, mixing with the evening air. She joined in freely, talking about music, dancing, and art. She seemed delighted to be among peers who spoke her language, where formalities were more relaxed than in the main hall.

As for Charles, at some point during his conversations, he noticed a familiar figure—a lanky middle-aged man. Excusing himself, he approached with a friendly nod.

"Good evening, Matthew. Didn't expect to see you here," Charles said.

"Ah, Charles. Yes, I'm a bit surprised too," the man replied.

"I was invited," Charles explained. "Figured turning it down without cause would be rude."

"Right, that makes sense."

"So, how goes the case?" Charles asked.

Matthew fell silent for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "Not much progress… things keep getting in the way."

"What do you mean?" Charles pressed.

"Well…" Matthew lowered his voice. "The people I'm up against have a lot of influence. They're doing everything possible to block the investigation—threatening witnesses, using connections to silence them…"

Charles frowned. "So, you're stuck."

"Yes. I'm just an ordinary man; I don't have enough power to oppose them," Matthew said, shoulders drooping in discouragement.

Charles paused, thinking of Joseph. "I might know someone who could help. Come with me."

He guided Matthew through the throng to where Joseph stood talking to a small circle of aristocrats.

"Sorry to interrupt," Charles began. "Joseph, this is Matthew—another detective I hold in high regard."

Joseph turned to the newcomer. "Pleased to meet you."

"And you, sir," Matthew replied, giving a respectful bow.

Once introductions were complete, Charles described Matthew's predicament in detail. Joseph's blue eyes darkened with displeasure as he heard what was going on.

"This is certainly worth looking into," Joseph said, his tone thoughtful. "I might be able to do something. Why don't we discuss it in more detail?"

The three men slipped off to a quieter corner of the hall for a more private conversation, while the chatter and laughter of the banquet continued unabated around them.