Chapter Sixteen: Roseward

Previously: Les du Maurier

 

It was a crisp, cool morning in Ravensbridge. The sun was out, the skies were clear, the colorful leaves were falling.

 

The wedding was held at the cathedral of Ravensbridge. The walls and pews were decorated with colorful autumn flowers. All the nobles in Ravensbridge attended, including the Foxmeres, the Hawkridges, and the Stoneleighs. The Baron and Baroness of Westervale were the last to arrive, and to Mireille's shock, Matilda was visibly pregnant.

 

"Congratulations," she sputtered, staring at the young blond Baroness. Arou
nd them, guests were taking their seats in the pews. 

 

"Thank you, my lady," Matilda replied, grinning as she rubbed her belly. "Everyone thinks it's a boy. Can you imagine? My first child will be the heir of Westervale."

 

"Girls can be heirs too," Mireille reminded her, slightly gesturing at herself.

 

"Perhaps in Valeronne," Matilda chuckled. "Here, they want boys."

Chapter Fifteen: Les du Maurier

Previously: Knives 

 

"All I'm saying is, she's changed," Godwin insisted. He was in the kitchen with Edith, sampling some fruit compote while Edith warily watched him, hands folded across her chest. As always, Mireille du Maurier watched them on a holographic screen upstairs.

 

The redhead pushed back. "She's still herself. She ordered entirely new wardrobes for herself, her cousin, and Marguerite—that's a very Mireille thing to do, if you ask me."

 

"And did you notice the colors of their pretty new clothes?" he asked, wiping his hands on a cloth and heading out of the kitchen. Edith followed. "Do those look like Roseward colors to you?"

 

Edith shrugged. "What's she supposed to do? Wear rose for the rest of her life? It's a spring color, Godwin, and winter is coming... when autumn ends, of course."

Chapter Fourteen: Knives

Previously: Consequences

 

"How was midday meal?" Edith asked, as soon as Mireille returned to her chambers.

 

"Enough to make me want to skip supper," the Viscountess grumbled, shedding her furs.

 

Edith's blue eyes widened. "Was it that bad?" she asked, taking the furs and placing them in a wardrobe.

 

Exasperated, Mireille tossed her hands in the air. "Apparently, my former ladies all resent me for some reason or other, and have since the beginning."

 

Her maid smiled knowingly and nodded. Mireille stared at her. "You knew?"

 

The redhead chuckled. "Servants have a saying: the lords and ladies who smile to your face are sharpening knives behind your back."

Chapter Thirteen: Consequences

Previously: Wintervale

 

Before either woman could speak again, they were interrupted.

 

Alys Hawkridge confidently strode into the dining room, followed by Rowena Thornmere. They were barely recognizable, having fully adopted the Orsynian-flavored fashions of the North. They wore their hair in milkmaid braids, with long bangs cradling their faces. Alys wore a purplish gray gown while Rowena's was very dark blue. Both women adorned themselves with silver jewelry and colorful gems.

"Are we late?" Alys asked, skin and hair still moist. "My maids bathed and dressed me as fast as they could."

 

"The meal is about to be served," Adela replied, and Mireille noted a slight scolding tone in her voice.

 

"Apologies, Highness," Rowena said, her voice stronger and more carefree than Mireille remembered. "It was a clear day and we didn't want to waste it. Zdravstvuyte, Mireille," she greeted suddenly, cheerily. 

 

Her former ward called her by her first name and no one was bowing to her anymore. Mireille worked hard not to flinch.

 

"Hello, my ladies," Mireille said, forcing herself to smile. "You are both looking well."

 

"And you are rosy as ever," Alys giggled, looking the Vicomtesse up and down. "How is Ravensbridge?"

 

You fucking bitch. In a room full of cooler shades, she felt out of place in her rose and golden tones. 

 

"Gloomy," Mireille told her honestly. "The young men have gone to war."

Chapter Twelve: Wintervale

Previously: The Girl from Brambleford

Breakfast was not as bad as she expected.

 

Marguerite was quiet. She had manners befitting a lady as she ate with both knife and fork. For breakfast she'd ordered eggs with cheese and herbs. She drank only spring water and politely asked the serving girl for some fresh fruit.

 

Thibault, on the other hand, had requested bacon and quail eggs. Despite the morning still being young, he'd ordered the most expensive ale in Brambleford. Mireille was half-amused, seeing as he wasn't paying for it (or anything else) with his own money.

 

The couple-to-be did not speak. Marguerite kept her eyes down while Thibault occasionally tossed her a disdainful glance.

Chapter Eleven: The Girl from Brambleford

Previously: La Vicomtesse Sanglante

 

"Godwin, send my regrets to Miss Adela Stoneleigh," Mireille instructed after dinner. "My cousin and I are bound for Valemont on family business. My journey to Wintervale will have to be delayed."

 

"Warm wine before bed?" Edith offered. When both Godwin and Mireille shot her a look, she hastily added, "For you, my lady, not me."

Chapter Ten: La Vicomtesse Sanglante

Previously: The Dream

 

"I'm afraid it's all true, my lady," Godwin said, after Thibault explained the situation in Auremer. "The Duke of Orvienne has invoked his right to seize property in service of war, effectively cutting off all trade with Valeronne."

 

"What right?" Mireille barked. "And why hasn't the King of Valeronne intervened in this unlawful war?"

 

"Perhaps because he's half a kingdom in debt to the Duke," the seneschal sagely replied. They were in his study, with a large map of the continent displayed before them.

 

Mireille was beyond appalled. "Was my father the only noble in all of Asterra who knew how to manage money?" she bellowed.

 

"It would appear so, ma cousine," Thibault said, shrugging. "Thankfully, you moved the bulk of the family wealth out of Orvienne months ago."

 

Mireille's hand flew to her pause bracelet. "Computer, I already know I can't stop the war. But let's say the war begins, and within a few days the Duke's own men turn on him, and kill him in his sleep or something. What then?"

Chapter Nine: The Dream

Previously: Sabotage

"Where is Edith?"

It was the morning of Matilda's wedding. All of Mireille's maids were up before dawn, except the one she paid the most.

 

Her maids exchanged looks before one answered, wincing, "Sleeping, madam."

 

Mireille stared at her. "Sleeping?"

 

They exchanged looks again before another answered, "She and Miss Rowena were up late, my lady."

 

"Doing what?" the Viscountess demanded.

 

"Well, Miss Rowena was rehearsing her role as a bridesmaid, but Edith was...drinking," a third maid hesitantly replied.

 

Mireille sighed. Edith was always drinking lately, and she'd ignored it because it hadn't been a problem thus far. And now, the one character literally programmed to be her guide in this game wasn't even showing up for work.

Chapter Eight: Sabotage

Previously: Sword and Shield

 

Ravensbridge stood on both banks of the River Raven, joined by the old stone bridge from which the town took its name. Mireille du Maurier almost regretted not having explored the town earlier, but then remembered that up until now, she had no guards.

 

Not that the town was unsafe; it was clearly designed to be a sanctuary where the player could rest and resupply. Among the numerous shops, there was an armory, an apothec
ary, and a large inn called the Raven's Crossing.

 

The theme of sanitized rusticity continued throughout the town. Mireille had never seen such perfectly cobbled roads or clean shops in a medieval RPG. The air was filled with the smell of ale, savory pies, and roasted meat. And in the distance, she could see the rolling green hills bathed in the summer sun.

 

"What a charming town," she gasped without thinking. Next to her, Sir Adrian smiled.

Chapter Seven: Sword and Shield

Previously: My Ladies

 

"My lady, you have a guest."

 

Mireille du Maurier was sitting at her vanity, playing with her jewels. It was a new hobby she'd developed over the past couple of days. In the early hours, before the sun was fully awake, she liked to sit at her vanity by the window. In the mirror, she watched her jewels glitter in the pale morning light.

 

Each one had a story. The amethyst necklace was a gift from her mother for her sixteenth birthday. The pearls were passed down from her ancestresses; according to legend they first belonged to one Comtesse du Laurenne. There wasn't much canon lore about her, except that she lived during the Golden Age of Everen, the continent where The Barony of Westervale was set.

 

They never set these games during the golden ages, Mireille snorted. Imagine the parties.

Chapter Six: My Ladies

Previously: The Thornmeres

 

In between sessions, the gamer continued to study The Barony of Westervale. She even patched her comms to the simulation chamber computer, allowing her to continue their conversations.

 

There wasn't much canon information on Matilda Foxmere, Alys Hawkridge, or Adela Stoneleigh. Gamers didn't interact with them much, unless they were playing as Sir Adrian and courting Adela. The ladies' fates were largely randomized. If Westervale's fortunes were restored, then they often got married off outside the barony and were never seen again.

 

Besides that, the information about them was basic. All three were born and raised in Ravensbridge. Matilda's mother was a second or third cousin of the Baron's. Her favorite meat was wild boar, her favorite color was light blue, and her favorite activity was baking. She yearned to marry a lord.

 

Alys lived up to her surname by being an expert at hawking. Her favorite meat was rabbit, and she favored lavender, both the color and the flower. She didn't care if her future husband was noble; her own father was a commoner and once commanded great wealth.

 

Adela was the daintiest of the three. She favored herbs and vegetables over meat. She enjoyed eating custard and her main talent was embroidery. It seemed her father had been filling her head with tales of her royal ancestors, for she longed to marry a royal.

 

The gamer raised an eyebrow. That might not be such a bad idea. As long as she's around, she's a distraction for Adrian.

Chapter Five: The Thornmeres

Previously: The Morning After

 

"Sir Adrian Thornmere, Madam Leonora de Valcera Thornmere, and Miss Rowena Thornmere."

 

Mireille du Maurier had to remind herself not to bow to those of lower rank. Despite their status, the Thornmeres were a majestic family, draped in shades of blue. Adrian and his mother walked with their backs straight and chins up, but Rowena appeared less confident than her elders. Her dark eyes darted uncertainly about her, and as her brother and mother strode into the Viscountess's sitting room, her footsteps were more hesitant.

 

It was Leonora who spoke first. "Viscontessa," she greeted neutrally, in a thick, rolling accent. Her whole family bowed on cue.

 

Edith stood near Mireille, who was seated. The red-haired maid stared in breathless awe, while Mireille sat mute, her heart pounding in her chest. When Godwin raised an eyebrow, she finally found her voice.

Chapter Four: The Morning After

Previously: Family

 

Matilda Foxmere. Alys Hawkridge. Adela Stoneleigh.

 

Mireille du Maurier gleefully examined her new soon-to-be friends. Matilda was the oldest. She was on the plump side, with wavy blond hair and gray eyes. Alys Hawkridge had light brown skin, hazel eyes, and honey-colored curls. But Adela... Adela was a reflection of Mireille herself, with even darker skin, dark eyes, and long braids tinged with burgundy.

 

They dressed in the Avenish fashion, of course, and their families weren't as rich as she. As such, their clothes were of a lesser quality, but Mireille didn't mind. Along with Rowena Thornmere, she would mold them into whatever she wanted.

Chapter Three: Family

Previously: Lady of Roses

 

Mireille felt a sudden pain in her chest. "Computer... you're driving up my blood pressure, which is exactly what I didn't want."

 

The computer remained unyielding. "This game is designed to last a player decades. As such, there are multiple programmed conflicts over land and title. For players not focused on romance and relaxation, successfully navigating those conflicts is the goal."

 

Mireille blinked. She was fairly certain she'd just been insulted, but decided to let it slide.

 

"I am the wealthiest woman in Westervale. I am probably the wealthiest woman in this world."

 

"Correct."

 

"And yet I cannot simply cross this room right now to speak to a guest of my own choosing—at least, not without consequences."

 

"Correct."

 

"That is fucked, computer."

Chapter Two: Lady of Roses

Previously: Roseward Manor

 

The rose silk felt cool upon her skin. She decided she preferred to wear lighter colors moving forward. After all, as Edith said, it was about to be summer soon.

 

It was evening now; the servants had lit candles and fireplaces throughout the manor. Mireille was excited, then suddenly nervous. As she wandered through her home she asked herself if it was wise to skip ahead. She had never met her guests. She had no idea what to expect.

 

In previous games, she hadn't gotten to host a party, not like this. Medieval RPGs typically centered on adventure. Before now, Mireille usually found herself covered in mud and carrying a crossbow on some repetitive quest in the wilds. Until now, programmers insisted on forcing players to earn their way to the cities, and then still live poorly once they got there. Plenty of gamers complained about this trope, and now it seemed that with Westervale, someone had finally listened.

Chapter One: Roseward Manor

Previously: Mireille

 

"Mireille du Maurier" turned around, taking in her new surroundings. This wasn't medieval England, of course; it was idealized, sanitized even. The rusticity was present, but everything was a little too clean. There were no foul smells, and everything was either perfectly washed, polished, or brand new.

 

Not that Mireille was complaining.

 

"My lady," a newcomer greeted, her accent delightfully archaic, yet somehow still posh. She was red-haired and freckled. She wore a pink dress embroidered with roses. "Godwin wants to see you before you break your fast."

 

Edith, Mireille quickly remembered. "Oh?" she asked. The computer had failed to mention a Godwin.

 

Luckily, Edith was programmed to be a guide. "Your seneschal has some concerns about that party you wanted to host?"

 

Mireille perked up immediately. "Yes? What about my party?"

La Vicomtesse

La Vicomtesse is original fiction. A bored gamer enters a simulation chamber were she takes on the role of a viscountess in a generic medieval role-playing game. Armed with mods and cheat codes, she has no intention of undertaking any quests or doing anything that isn't fun and frivolous.

 

But while the codes work perfectly as intended, the gamer begins to wonder if they're actually making things worse.

 

Next: Mireille