Aufors departed toward evening, after looking over the Marshal’s invitation list and shaking his head.
“My Lady, . . .”
“If I am to call you Aufors, you must call me Genevieve.”
“Genevieve, I respect your father deeply for he is a great soldier. He has, however, no idea what is involved in keeping an establishment or even what is involved in keeping him comfortable in the field. When he is not immediately engaged with a problem, he seems to go inside his head somewhere, thinking of … oh, old battles, perhaps. He simply doesn’t notice what’s going on! I think he assumes it happens spontaneously: food on his table, water in his basin, clean clothing for him to put on. At Langmarsh he has people who have cared for him since he was a boy, but I doubt he has any idea of what they do.
“If he is to succeed here in Havenor, he must be brought out of himself and made aware. We do not know how long he is to be here, at court, or what his role will be. However long, whatever role, the rules must be observed. I’ve learned only a few of them. One of them is that enemies are not invited to the same affairs, and your father has already done this.” He pointed out the offending entries on the invitation list.
“I know some of the rules are silly, and I know they have to be learned the hard way, for people do not spontaneously tell you what they are. You must find someone to guide you rightly, and you’ll need the Marshal’s help, or, failing that, his forbearance. Plead with him to be a little less hasty!”
Though she doubted pleading with her father would do any good whatsoever, she nodded her thanks, too full of them to put in words.
When the Marshal arrived, late in the evening, after a day of meetings and irritations, he found the place still buzzing like a disturbed hive. “What’s all this?”
“You have invited thirty people to dinner eight days from now,” Genevieve answered in the calm voice she had been practicing for the past hour. “We are preparing for that event, and for whatever other events will follow.”
“You don’t need all this fuss, surely. I thought Colonel Leys might help you with introductions and so forth, the day of the first dinner.”
She forced herself to smile rather than snap at him, which to her own surprise, she very much wanted to do. “If we had waited until the day, Father, you would have had nothing to feed your guests. The house would have been dirty and unwelcoming. Nothing could have been well done. Some of the things the cook needs will take seven or eight days to obtain, and certainly we could not clean the house in less than that.”
“Really?” he appeared astonished. “It seems clean enough.”
“To one accustomed to camping in the open, it may well do. The dirt and wear and cobwebs are glaringly obvious in a good light, however, and when one has guests, one lights up the house. This is a rule in Havenor, one of many, I am told. If we do not yet know the rules in Havenor, then we must find them out in advance of your issuing future invitations. I fear we have already made several faux pas.”
“Nonsense!”
“Father, if you were a junior officer, would you invite to your table two superior officers who were sworn enemies?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, here in Havenor we are very much junior residents, yet we have invited two noble ladies who are sworn enemies. If that were not enough, we have invited two other persons who are opposing litigants before the Tribunal. We want everything to do you credit, but we can’t manage it if we are not well prepared, so please, Father, allow us a little time to learn the way.”
He turned slightly red. “I had guests at Langmarsh House with no more notice than a word to the butler in the morning! In the field, I have had my fellow officers join me for meals on no notice at all!”