Anastasia looked the Countess Rostova in the eyes, her golden eyes meeting her brown.
"Anastasia, I see. That's a rather unusual name. Not a lot of people are named after Saints nowadays."
Anastasia herself looked surprised. She did not expect to hear this today.
I was named after a saint?
I never knew this.
I know I never really took the time to read theological texts, but I thought I had at least this much knowledge of my own name at that.
I can't believe nobody ever remarked before today. Could Karina perhaps be religious?
Anastasia quickly gathered back her thoughts inside her head, trying not to show her question marks through her eyes. She looked at her father, Dmitri, still sitting in his brown costume, who had a look of something between terror and unease, as if the madam had suddenly addressed a subject he was uncomfortable with.
Anastasia assessed the situation and her father's attitude and concluded she had to take matters into her own hands, whether it was a truth or a lie, as long as it eased the tension.
"My late mother was actually deeply religious, thus she named me after the Saint; it is as simple as that," Anastasia spoke without overthinking. She didn't know if her mother actually was into religion, but she knew her father wasn't.
She also did not take any risk by giving any information that she could be mistaken about. She only knew a Saint of the Resurian Church had a name somewhat similar to her name, which was most likely the inspiration for it; therefore, she did not take a guess at the Saint's actual name.
"That's surprising that Dmitri would actually agree to name you after Saint Anastasie, knowing his history with… I guess I'm saying too much about it, seeing his face, he probably doesn't enjoy talking about it too much." She had a slight chuckle while looking at Dmitri's panicked face, which seemed close to death.
Is this what we call a cliffhanger?
Why did you have to stop talking?
Anastasia was torn in pieces in her mind, seeing how she wouldn't get to hear the interesting side of the story and only had the boring bits about some guy named Anastasie.
The Countess pressed her hand against the Count's shoulder as she tried calming him down after this seemingly anxious talk about the origin of his daughter's name.
Anastasia looked at the scene around her, beyond just the two influential figures at her table.
She noticed a few people had left since she had entered the hall, and most people now sat at a table rather than standing up and talking. A lot fewer servants also entered and exited the room compared to when it was a living hell for them.
A servant approached the double door and opened it.
Behind hid a man with a pretty tall build, far from a giant but definitely above average. His hair was longer than Anastasia's, but was of a much darker color, similar to Ivan's.
He wore a dignified and formal black attire, doing a great job at hiding amongst the crowd of nobles. Unfortunately for him, most nobles in the room were of a smaller build, and Anastasia was one of the few people to stand closer to his height.
His eyes were of ordinary darkness for his looks; the color would not be unexpected, unlike a man with blonde hair having eyes like midnight would be.
His face was quite handsome, one could say; it was the definition of a classy and good-looking man. It left no place to doubt and could be considered to be conventionally attractive.
The man refused a glass of wine from one of the female servants and continued on his way without a sweat. He hesitated for a bit when getting closer to the end of the hall, but saw something and approached Anastasia's table.
As he walked towards the three of them, a warm smile appeared on his face when Dmitri and Karina looked back at him.
"If it isn't Countess Rostova and Count Fomenko, and who might the lady here be?" His face was friendly and full of kindness.
Anastasia noticed the man spoke in a thick accent she did not recognize. It was unlike the ones present in the Empire and different from those in the Arakian continent.
Dmitri was the first to talk. "I thought you would skip the banquet for a while, but it seems I was wrong." He pinched his mustache and continued. "This is my daughter, Anastasia."
He glared at the white-haired girl sitting beside him. "Anastasia, I introduce you to Count Raviel Dumas."
Count Dumas lowered himself to Anastasia's sitting level and shook her hand gladly. "I am glad to meet you, Anastasia."
She looked at him for a bit before responding with her most respectful answer.
They talked about a lot of things, though the three counts did most of the talking and Anastasia listened.
As the conversation died down, she took the opportunity to ask the new member a question that had been on her mind ever since they greeted each other.
"Dumas, I can't help but notice you have a certain accent when you speak. Could you be from a foreign region?"
Raviel drank his glass of water before answering. "Correct! I first opened my eyes further west of Sentria, in Lunire, this is also why my name is different from typical praussurian names."
"Then how is it you're a count?"
He put his hand in an open manner as he explained. "I moved here when I was about 16 years old. It took a while for me to walk from my local church all the way to here in the capital of a nation so far away." He laughed a bit at the strange situation he was trying to explain.
Seeing that he launched the keywords to talk about religion, she seized the chance to ask the questions she had had since earlier.
"I didn't imagine you were of the religious type. You strike me more as the type to explore philosophy rather than theology."
"Haha! I have a love-hate relationship with them. You could say I resent them if you want, but I am glad because they gave me a reason to live on further than the church."
This is all very complex.
And not very progressing.
The conversation came to a standstill.
"Have you ever heard about the artificial angel project?"
Heh?
"No, I have not heard of it. What is it?"