Disgraced
Copyright© 2025 by Ogreface
Chapter 2: Festival Time
“All three the boys have outgrown their suits,” Viscountess Lucinda mentioned to her husband, Viscount Serge. The entire family, the viscount, the viscountess, his concubines, as well as all the children, were having their regular dinner together.
Dinner in the viscount’s residence was a semiformal event, and attendance was compulsory. Traditionally the viscount sat at one end of the long table with the viscountess and senior concubine on either side of him. Dane’s mother, the junior concubine, was sitting next to Lady Krista, the senior concubine. Lance, heir to the viscount, sat at the other end of the table, with his own sister, Lady Lynelle, and Lady Krista’s daughter, Lady Winona, on either side of him, in order of seniority of their mothers. Dane, William, and Lady Debra, Dane’s thirteen-year-old sister could sit where they wanted.
During this meal Dane was the last to enter the dining room, so he sat on the side closest to the doorway with empty seats on either side of him. Debra and Winona kept glaring at him for being late, causing them to be unable to sit next to him.
“That is easy to solve,” Serge responded. “They only need one new suit for the festival season. It is the girls that is more of a headache, they seem to need a new complete outfit for each day of the festival.” He then chuckled and winked at Lance at the other end of the table. Lance responded with his own laugh even if he most likely didn’t see the wink. Dane was amused by the non-verbal response of Lady Lucinda, the viscountess, as she dramatically rolled her eyes as her husband’s comments.
“You surely do not expect us to wear the same outfits for the entire festival, daddy,” Lady Lynelle said in a casual tone. Of the three daughters of the viscount, she got away with the most outrageous behavior, since she was by far her father’s favorite daughter. He generally spoiled all three of his daughters, but Lynelle was the one who was most likely to take advantage of her position.
“Dane definitely needs new pants,” Debra giggled.
“I agree,” Lady Krista said as she gave Dane a subtle smile. “You seem to add at least an inch every week.” Her comment was more of a family joke since Dane was the tallest male in the residence. At sixteen, he was already two inches taller than his sire, the viscount. Dane was often finding Lady Krista looking at him with a mildly confused or contemplating look on her face.
Having everybody suddenly look at him embarrassed Dane a bit. The looks he received from the younger girls particularly made him feel even more embarrassed. He seldom had any interaction with the three girls, one sister and two half-sisters. Lynelle mostly ignored Dane. Winona turned all shy when he found himself in her presence. Debra was the only female he regularly talked with, other than his own mother.
Two weeks later, Dane, Lance, and William were in the library, discussing a group study topic on the influence of the jump gates on the economies of various planetary systems, when their three sisters entered the library. It was two days before the entire family, and a select group of servants, were to depart for the yearly Harvest Festival. They would be traveling to the capitol city where they would stay in the guest quarters of the duke’s palace. The trip was not much of an issue since they were living an hour’s travel by high-speed monorail from the city and the viscount’s family were regular guests at the ducal palace.
It was still an exciting excursion for Dane because the only times he stayed at the ducal palace were for formal events, like the yearly festival. The viscount’s ladies, wives, and daughters, were guests of the duchess nearly every month. The two other sons of the viscount often accompanied their mothers and siblings while Dane stayed home.
“What do you guys think?” Lady Lynelle asked as she and Lady Winona both slowly turned a full circle in front of the three boys. Dane could see that Debra also had a new fancy dress on, one that hung to her feet, but she came and stood right in front of Dane, looking him in the eyes without saying a word.
“About what?” Lance asked as he frowned at his sister. Then a servant girl came in with a tray of refreshments. Her short skirt instantly caught Lance’s attention, so he ignored his sister.
“For the festival?” Dane asked softly as he looked his sister up and down. While she was quite bratty, especially since entering puberty, he never openly accused her of being a brat. He noticed the brat had some small but noticeable bumps high up on her chest under her bodice. “You are growing up too fast,” Dane added. Debra gave him a huge grin as she slowly turned so he could see all sides of her. “Sophisticated and elegant. Some lucky man is going to enjoy dancing with you,” he added in a low voice.
“I think all men are brutes, and barbaric,” Winona said as she and Lynelle kept glaring at Lance and William, ignoring Dane even if they must have heard what he said to Debra. “At least Dane noticed that Debra is wearing a new dress.” Her comment resulted in them shifting their attention to Dane, as if to blame him for not also being a barbarian.
“Girls and dresses,” Lance muttered as he leaned forward to take a glass of fruit juice from the tray the servant girl was holding for the two girls. “What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah, you women look great in whatever you wear, and possibly even better when you are not wearing anything,” William snickered and got an elbow in the ribs from Lance for his efforts. The two older girls rolled their eyes before turning away in disgust. Debra gave a muted giggle as she leaned over and gave Dane a quick peck on the forehead before she daintily twirled and followed her half-sisters out of the library.
“Where were we?” Lance asked, but the study mood was broken.
The six offspring of the viscount were being taught by private tutors, usually university lecturers who came out either daily or weekly to hand out assignments, collect completed assignments, and give tests. A few years back, Lance and William were in the habit of making sure that they were nowhere to be found when the lecturers arrived. Since Dane was never part of their conspiracies, being present when the lecturers arrived resulted in the other two getting caught and having a long private chat with the viscount in his office. Since then, they have been much more attentive about their studies, especially Lance. Neither of them ever revealed to Dane what was said in the viscount’s office.
Two days later the entire family relocated to the ducal palace for a week-long series of formal balls and official appearances. Both Lance and their father, the viscount, have been scheduled by the duke to judge a few competitions, best stud bull or biggest pumpkin, or best piece of art or furniture. Dane was glad he was never expected to take part in those things.
“Have you guys been told yet whom you would be betrothed to?” Gavin, heir and only son of Viscount Clark Ridgeway of the Robison Province asked when he joined the three Galan brothers in their guest suite in the palace of the duke. Gavin was handsome but not as self-confident as Lance was. He was also quite a braggart, trying to act and sound more popular that he actually was. He and Lance were very good acquaintances, bordering on being best friends, since both of them were heirs to the only two viscounts in the Sagan system.
“I have been told that my betrothed died of some childhood ailment when we were both five,” Lance said. “I kind of feel like I dodged a bullet.”
“Why?” Gavin asked.
“There is this theory that any girl usually ends up looking very much like her mother when she reaches the mother’s age.” Lance replied. “Let’s just say that I saw what the mother and the grandmother of the girl in question looks like. You have nothing to be afraid of since the duchess is a looker.”
“As far as looks goes, I have to agree with you, but I have my own issues when it comes to the personality of Lady Aida. One bossy piece of ass if you ask me.”
“When is the final ceremony?” William asked.
“It should have happened already when I turned eighteen,” Gavin said. “I’m not sure what caused the postponement. My dad claims that I should complete my degree first. He is worried that I will not finish once I have a wife in my bed. I heard a rumor that since my dad doesn’t have a secondary title like yours, the duchess wants to wait until I have proven myself somehow. Not sure what she could mean by that.”
“Maybe it’s because you are a commoner until you become the new viscount,” William commented and got a frown from Gavin.
“That might explain why neither William nor Dane are betrothed, since they also have no titles,” Lance said casually.
“I was told I should join the Imperial Marine Corps, prove myself in that way,” William responded. “The problem is that being a marine will only work if one becomes an officer and the Imperial Marines Corps does not let it be influenced by one’s noble status.”
“You are free to try that,” Gavin said. “Being heirs means we are not allowed to join the marines, or the navy.”
The first event Dane had to attend was that evening. It was the official opening of the festival ball, an event attended by every nobleman and his immediate family present on the planet. It was the ball to be seen at, since any dignitary or nobleman from another system would most likely attend that ball. Dane really didn’t want to be there, but he had little choice in the matter.
“You said some lucky man will enjoy dancing with me tonight,” Debra commented softly as she and Dane followed behind their half-siblings into the ballroom. They were part of the formal entrance, with the viscount leading his wife and his senior concubine into the hall, and with his offspring, in sibling pairs, following behind them, as the duke’s butler officially announced them. Dane’s mother was usually being escorted by Lance but for some reason she declined even with her attending the ball anyway.
“Still true,” Dane muttered out of the corner of his mouth. He had to think back to when he was supposed to have said that and came up blank and then decided to just admit to it regardless of the outcome.
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