Chapter 98: Departure To The Skargardian Capital
That morning, the Rubenhart Estate was filled with an unusual energy.
The servants moved through the massive halls with haste, working faster and harder than on any normal day.
They were not preparing the estate for the arrival of esteemed guests. Rather, it was a day of departure.
Today was the day Count Rubenhart would officially leave the estate to introduce the three sisters to the kingdom’s high society. It was, without a doubt, a monumentally important morning.
The three girls were awoken long before the sun even crested the horizon. By six in the morning, their exhaustive preparations had already begun.
Each sister was escorted into her own lavish bedroom, where a dedicated team of three or four maids immediately swarmed them.
First, they were ushered into steaming, copper bathtubs filled with perfumed water. The maids poured rich, expensive oils and soothing ointments into the baths, turning the water into a luxurious, fragrant milk meant to soften their skin.
While they soaked in the warmth, the servants meticulously brushed their long hair, untangling every knot with care. Other maids knelt to scrub and trim their fingernails and toenails until they were perfectly pristine.
Airam was usually the most reluctant to accept such intimate pampering. She hated being crowded by people. Yet, even she remained surprisingly obedient this morning, sitting silently as the maids worked.
Esther and Hermione, meanwhile, felt entirely overwhelmed. They were already pampered every single morning under Ulrich’s roof, but today’s routine had reached an entirely new, almost suffocating level of excess.
But as expected, Ulrich demanded nothing short of perfection. He would not present them to the capital looking like commoners.
When the long baths finally concluded, the girls were gently dried with thick, warm towels and seated firmly in front of their large vanity mirrors.
For the next hour, they endured another barrage of treatments. The maids massaged the finest imported creams and glowing oils into their skin, ensuring they looked radiant.
It was such meticulous, devoted care. They were being so spoiled that even the stubborn, prickly Hermione found herself secretly enjoying the lavish attention.
When the endless grooming finally ended, it was time to dress.
"Monika, aren’t we going to wear the gowns that were prepared for us?" Esther asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
The maids had brought out entirely different dresses. They were still beautiful, silken travel gowns, but they were definitely not the breathtaking masterpieces they had chosen with Ulrich.
Monika showed a reassuring smile.
"You will wear your formal gowns only when you arrive at the capital, Lady Esther. You will go through all these preparations once more before the ceremony, and only then will you don the dresses."
"We have to go through all of this again?!" Esther asked, completely shocked.
"Indeed," Monika nodded politely. "The journey to the capital will take a day, perhaps two at the worst. Considering the Count will take the safest route and prioritize your comfort over speed, two days is the most likely outcome."
"T—Two days?!" Esther blurted out.
She remembered when Ulrich had traveled to the capital before. It had only taken him three days to travel there, attend his business, and return. She hadn’t realized how much a large carriage would slow the journey.
"At the very most, Lady Esther," Monika smiled gently. "Regardless, you will be traveling the entire way inside a swaying carriage. Wearing those heavy, heavily ornamented formal gowns right now would be extremely uncomfortable."
"Oh..." Esther murmured in soft acknowledgment.
The maid was right. The formal gowns they had ordered had arrived just a few days ago. Esther and her sisters had tried them on under the watchful eye of Rosaline to ensure a perfect fit.
Esther vividly remembered the weight clinging to her frame when she first wore it. The gown was beautiful, woven with precious threads and jewels, but it was incredibly restrictive.
If they tried to travel for two days trapped in those cages of silk and bone, they would likely suffocate before ever seeing the palace.
Looking at the lighter, flowing travel dress the maids were currently holding, Esther suddenly felt grateful.
"Count Rubenhart merely wishes for you to look perfect for the event without sacrificing your health on the road," Monika added as she began to tie the dress.
"I—I see..." Esther blushed a soft pink, nodding meekly as the maids finished tying her ribbons.
When her preparations were finally complete, Esther stepped nervously out of her bedroom.
Glancing down the grand hallway, she saw that the doors to Airam’s and Hermione’s rooms were still firmly shut. It seemed they were not quite ready yet.
Not wanting to wait alone in the corridor, Esther began the long descent downstairs.
Several maids trailed closely behind her, carefully lifting the hem of her travel gown so it would not drag against the marble steps.
Even though it was not the formal gown she would wear for the actual ceremony, it was still an exquisite piece of craftsmanship. It was the dress she would be wearing when she first stepped out of the carriage onto the paved streets of the capital, so it had to look flawless as well.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she immediately spotted Ulrich standing in the center of the main hall. As expected, he was already perfectly dressed.
Esther paused on the final step, finding herself quietly admiring his imposing frame.
He wore a sharply tailored, immaculate black-and-white waistcoat, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders, with a midnight-black overcoat draped over it. He looked every inch the ruthless, powerful Count he was.
His hands were clasped behind his back as he watched the servants work with eagle-eyed precision.
The staff was currently packing their formal gowns into incredibly beautiful wooden boxes. The polished wooden crates themselves looked expensive enough to buy a small house in any town, yet they were merely containers for something far more valuable.
These were the breathtaking gowns meant for the Princess’s coming-of-age ceremony.
The servants worked with agonizing care, gently folding the delicate silk and heavy brocade into protective layers of fine muslin before laying them into the crates.
Nearby, other servants were carefully placing matching sets of glittering jewelry into smaller, velvet-lined lockboxes.
In fact, an entire secondary carriage had been prepared in the courtyard for the only purpose of transporting their formal clothes, their jewels, and Ulrich’s own ceremonial attire.
The servants handling the luggage looked visibly tense, sweat beading on their foreheads despite the cool morning air. The sheer amount of gold and precious gems they were currently manipulating was astronomical, and they knew the consequences of damaging a single thread.
"My Lord."
A deep voice rang out then. Hendrick, the stoic Commander of the Rubenhart knights, strode in.
Ulrich shifted his gaze away from the luggage to look at his commander.
"The road ahead is completely safe," Hendrick reported.
Ulrich had sent Hendrick out days ago to scout the intended travel route, ensuring no bandits or untoward surprises would disrupt their journey. He hadn’t asked the knights to secure the entire king’s highway all the way to the capital, but he demanded safety until they were well past the borders of his own territory.
After Ulrich finished giving a few final, low-voiced instructions, Hendrick offered a salute and marched back out toward the carriages.
With the commander gone, Ulrich finally turned his gaze toward the stairs.
Esther stiffened immediately, suddenly feeling very small and nervous standing there alone. She hoped he might offer a compliment, or at least a word of encouragement about her appearance.
Instead, Ulrich simply stared at her for a brief, silent second before turning his attention toward Fabian to issue another order.
Esther let out a quiet, defeated sigh, her small fists clenching softly in the fabric of her dress.
"Esther."
Turning around, Esther saw Hermione and Airam finally descending the grand staircase.
"Sisters! You both look so wonderful!" Esther gasped, a wide smile breaking across her face.
The older girls possessed a strange, ethereal natural beauty on a normal day. But now, with their skin glowing and their hair perfectly styled by the maids, they looked otherworldly. Even the busy servants paused in their packing to admire the three sisters, as if seeing them clearly for the very first time.
"You look quite good as well," Hermione giggled softly as she stepped off the final stair, smoothing her own elegant travel skirt.
"I am so excited, big sister!" Esther beamed.
"Well, there is really nothing to be so excited about," Hermione shrugged, crossing her arms to hide her own nerves.
"You didn’t sleep a single wink last night because you were thinking about it," Airam commented flatly from the steps behind them.
"Hey, Airam! Keep quiet!" Hermione snapped, her cheeks flushing pink.
Esther giggled brightly, the tension in her chest completely melting away at their familiar bickering.
"Wrap those carefully."
Hearing Ulrich’s voice, the three girls immediately stopped laughing and turned their attention back to the center of the room.
Ulrich was now directing the servants to carefully wrap a different set of small, ornate wooden boxes. They were the specific gifts each sister had personally picked out for the royal birthday.
"I—I really hope the Princess will like them," Esther muttered, her voice filled with hopeful anxiety.
"Don’t get your hopes up too high. She is a Royal Princess," Hermione warned, trying to sound realistic. "She probably already has everything she could ever possibly want."
"Hm... I suppose you are right," Esther sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.
Even though Ulrich had explained that offering gifts was merely a strict political formality, Esther genuinely hoped the gifts would be well-received.
She wished to build good, peaceful relationships with the people of the capital. She especially wanted to impress the royal Princess, even more so after Ulrich had informed them that the Princess was exactly Hermione’s age.
Finally, after another half hour of meticulous final preparations, they were ushered out the doors and into the morning air.
As they walked down the stone steps toward the courtyard, the three sisters stopped in their tracks, surprised by what awaited them.
It was a carriage they had never seen before.
It was significantly larger than the sturdy carriage they took when visiting the nearby city of New Ruben. This new vehicle was massive, constructed entirely from polished, dark red wood and accented with gleaming golden linings.
Every single inch of the carriage screamed unimaginable luxury. Even the four massive draft horses hitched to the front were perfectly bred, their dark coats brushed until they shone like wet glass in the morning sun.
The fearsome Rubenhart Crest was embedded in the wooden doors in crimson and gold.
It was a beautiful, imposing carriage. It looked perfectly fit to carry a ruling King, let alone a provincial Count.
As they approached, one of the armored knights immediately stepped forward and pulled the carriage door open.
The girls peered inside, their eyes widening at the lavish interior. The cabin was spacious, lined with plush, crimson bench seats that looked softer than their own beds.
There was more than enough room for the four of them to stretch out comfortably during the long journey.
One by one, Airam, Hermione, and Esther climbed carefully up the small iron steps, lifting the hems of their travel gowns to ensure they did not trip or wrinkle the fine fabric. They settled onto the seats, the soft cushions instantly absorbing the jostle of their movements.
Ulrich boarded last, his tall frame easily filling the doorway before he took his seat on the opposite bench, facing the three girls.
The knight bowed his head and pulled the door shut, the latch clicking shut with a solid, echoing thud.
Less than two minutes later, Ulrich simply tapped his knuckles twice against the wooden wall of the carriage.
Hearing the signal, Commander Hendrick immediately raised his gauntleted hand, barking a sharp order to the dozen heavily armed knights flanking the convoy.
With a synchronized clatter of armor and the sharp crack of a whip, the massive wheels lurched forward.
Accompanied by an elite guard and a second carriage overflowing with unimaginable wealth, the Count Rubenhart and the three witches finally departed the estate, beginning their journey toward the capital.
