16 Nostalgia

When Marguerite sees the laid out clothes prepared by the maids, she stares at them without moving. The maids look at her apprehensive. Why isn't she moving? Are the clothes not to her liking?

"All of these dresses and robes... I have to wear them all?"

"Why of course! What else would you wear?"

The maids tense up at the sudden question and a headmaid answers matter of factly.

As if resigned to her fate, Marguerite droops down her shoulders and let the relieved maids do their jobs of dressing her for the very important event that is about to take place.

As she scales down the familiar hallway with her attendants, she starts to feel jittery at the thought of what is to come. The mouse sitting on her shoulder tries to appease her with comforting words but her anxiety doesn't subside. However, she manages to distract herself by wondering how no one seems to notice the small animal atop her shoulder.

At her question, the mouse answers simply:

<In DaLan, having one or two pets follow you around isn't anything worth mentioning. Some rich men even keep highly intelligent pets with the ability to talk and think independently, but these are extremely rare.>

Marguerite is slightly stunned by the revelation. She thought that he had made himself invisible, but it turns out that everyone is simply ignoring him. If this is true, then she should be careful about speaking to him in public. Edward can speak in her head and intrude on some of her thoughts, but she can't. It is good that she realized it quickly.

They quickly arrive at their destinations. In the giant palace chamber, 200 young and graceful girls are neatly arranged in rows of ten allocated seats according to the following ranks: consorts, favoured concubines, unfavoured concubines, bedroom servants. Before them is a giant stage, and sitting behind them is a separated, elevated row of chairs where several older women and men with stern expressions on their faces sit.

The place reminds her of ancient Operas of France. The thought has her feeling nostalgic for a moment as she sets herself in the seat designated for her, right next to the bedroom servants; the unfavoured concubines.

As the emperor has been reluctant to take in a wife or concubine for many years, all the women here have only recently entered the palace. This is why a renewed allocation of ranks, independent of background and descent, is necessary. The kingdom under the new emperor has become a mixture of a monarchy and a meritocracy; the rankings of concubines is one such example. At first, when entering the palace, your rank is based on your dowry and your background, however after the ranking process, one can change their rank depending on their performance.

Actually, it is a bit more complicated than that. Marguerite didn't quite understand when Edward tried to explain, however it should go like this:

Consorts will perform on stage to showcase their various talents to the teachers sitting behind them. If a teacher takes a liking to some of them, they can attend their classes. If a consort is taken in by a famous teacher, then even if she is one day cast aside by the emperor, her future outside the palace will be secured. It is like the imperial examination for women, except that only pretty women can take it.

The consorts under tutelage will have a chance at the competition for the position of queen. Non-consorts that are chosen by teachers can rise directly to the rank of consort, and alternately consorts that are not chosen by any teachers will fall down the ranks; unless those fallen consorts are fancied by the emperor himself, they can rarely rise back the ranks. Beauty and charisma is also a talent in itself.

If among the consorts, some are chosen by multiple teachers, the consort can become a first, second or third-consort; what that implies is an entirely different and complicated matter involving politics that isn't worth mentioning. However, it doesn't necessarily help in the selecting of the queen, so no one pays attention to it.

Since there are a lot of women, the selection process lasts for 5 days. The 30-so teachers will all be present during those 5 days, but 200 different women will be performing during those days. Today is actually the fifth day. Marguerite is quite unlucky as those old geezers are already tired beyond words and will barely have the mind to watch the performances by now.

Marguerite recognises various faces among the crowd. The bedroom servant seated next to her keeps sneaking glances at her furtively, seemingly curious but shy. After all, Marguerite made quite a scene during the last banquet, and she has become famous throughout the whole country. The only woman to cry during a festive banquet in honour of the regent. What is truly astonishing is the fact that the regent did not punish her despite her blatant disrespect; this made the other ambitious women quite weary of her.

The unfavoured concubine at her other side seems to come from a well-off family as she arrogantly sneers in her direction at her glance. She is very pretty and is adorned with a lot of shiny jewels. They must have come out of her dowry. Her face is in the shape of a heart and her delicate features are greatly enhanced by the light rouge on her cheeks and lips. Her eyes are red and her hair, like everyone she has met so far, is black as ink. The slightly Asian features make her look exotic and refreshing in a western point of view, but in this world, it must be very common. Marguerite's body owner doesn't seem to have the same luck as the jewellery she has can be counted on her fingers. However, since she isn't a bedroom servant, she must at least be higher than a commoner. Her dark, blue eyes are a rarity in this world and make her look mysterious. But to the Norwegian Marguerite, it isn't that impressive.

The first consort goes up the stage, she takes out a weird instrument that looks like a mixture of the guqin and a violin. She sets it on a pedestal and takes out long nail guards, but instead of putting them on the ring and little fingers, she puts them on the index fingers and middle fingers.

Once her preparations are finished, she starts pulling and gliding along the thin and fragile strings carefully with her four fingers.

The beautiful melody starts to emerge from the instrument. Marguerite's inner passion for music is kindled as she widens her eyes and a warm feeling bloats her heart. Her former anxiety disappears completely as she stops blinking to listen to the wonderful sound of the instrument.

When the music stops, she is still enthralled in the wonderful feeling and takes a while to snap out of it. Almost unconsciously, she begins to widely grin and clap enthusiastically. It is only when she hears her lonesome clapping echoing in the silent room that she snaps out of her little world to look around.

Everyone, including the teachers and the performer, is staring at her as if she were crazy. Marguerite starts to burn in shame at the stares and her face heats up instantly. It seems the others weren't as mesmerised as she was. Or maybe it simply isn't custom to clap in this world?

Embarrassed to the point of wanting to dig a hole and bury herself in it, she hides her face behind her curtain of hair, trying to ignore the ridicule and mockery of the other surrounding girls.

The little bedroom servant, contrarily to the other women, is staring at her curiously with her head tilted to the side. She is wondering where this eccentric person came from.

Soon, the surroundings brush off the incident and impatiently proceed with the ceremony.

Learning from past mistakes, Marguerite doesn't clap at the next performances, however, this doesnæt stop her from being amazed at the numerous talents in the palace. With standards like this, there is no way she will be chosen by a teacher. All the instruments she knows don't seem to exist in this country. Furthermore, everyone here has the potential of being top celebrities in her original world, she didn't even graduate.

Soon her turn comes and the young Marguerite wipes her sweaty hands on her dress. Something completely unladylike and crude. The women around her look at her as if looking at a clown. Even a commoner has more poise than this mute concubine that doesn't know her place.

Marguerite is so intimidated by the hostile stares directed at her that she trips on her way up the stairs. Hearing the snickers and mocking chuckles, she burns in embarrassment and instantly wishes to die. Why is everyone in this palace so mean? She has never experienced this in her 20+ years of life.

<Don't mind them. Just focus on your performance.>

Hearing Edward eases her a little. She feels less alone.

"But what am I supposed to do? I don't have talent like the others."

Her already battered lips receive another session of abuse as she gnaws on them almost until they bleed.

<Don't fret. The best-case scenario would be to end up as a bedroom servant. This way it would be easier to leave the palace unnoticed.>

Hearing about the plan to leave, she suddenly feels a surge of determination. That's right, she's going to leave anyway. No one here matters as she will be returning to her world soon enough. Even if she f**ks up, the worst-case scenario is her dropping a rank. It will make it easier for her to leave and she won't have to suffer for long.

With renewed strength and courage, she walks onto the big stage to make her preparations.