Straw had been in conversation with Lady Diane for longer than she intended. What was meant to be a brief exchange had quietly stretched into something else entirely. It turned out there was another hall meant specifically for the ladies, tucked away from the louder feast where nobles gathered in clusters. Instead of going straight to the questions Vinegario had sent her to ask, Straw found herself seated comfortably, wine in hand, listening.
The hall was warm, filled with soft laughter and the faint clinking of cups. Curtains filtered the light, giving everything a gentle glow. It felt distant from court politics, distant from expectations. Straw almost forgot why she had come in the first place.
"Haha, your anniversary is such a lovely feast. Three years, wow. That's so great for the future Lady of War," Straw said, holding her wine tightly, fingers curled around the stem as if anchoring herself in the moment.
Diane smiled, her expression softening. "I still remember it like it was yesterday when Greyjoy proposed to me. It was the best day of my life. The flowers, the music."
She spoke with a fondness that was impossible to miss. Her eyes unfocused slightly, as if replaying the memory in her mind.
"What a romantic," Straw laughed, raising her cup slightly in acknowledgment.
"That wasn't all that was romantic," Diane continued. "The honeymoon was fabulous and energetic. We visited places we had never been before."
Straw let out a breathy laugh. "Wow, that's so… romantic."
The word lingered in her mouth longer than intended. As Diane continued talking, Straw's thoughts drifted. Without warning, images began to form in her head. A quiet escape. A journey far from the mansion walls. Berryanna beside her, free from titles and responsibilities, even if only for a little while. She wondered how that conversation would even begin.
Would Berryanna say yes. Would she dismiss it as unnecessary. Or worse, would she see it as a not part of their contract.
"Are you thinking about something else, Lady Straw?" Diane asked gently, her tone observant rather than accusatory.
Straw blinked, then smiled. "Yes. I'm thinking about how I'm going to convince my wife to go on a honeymoon with me."
The word slipped out easily.
"Wife?" Diane echoed, surprise clear on her face.
"Yes," Straw laughed, lifting her cup again. "I'm married to a woman. The most beautiful one in this nation."
The declaration drew attention. A few nearby ladies turned toward them, curiosity sparked immediately. Straw drained the rest of her drink and handed the empty cup to a passing maid, asking for a refill. It was exactly what Diane and the others had been doing, so she followed along without thinking much of it.
"Wow, that's new," Diane said, clearly intrigued. "I've never known someone married to a woman. Is it someone we all know?"
The shift was instant. The women leaned in, interest lighting their faces.
"Please tell us how you two met," one of them said eagerly.
"Yes, we would love to know about your lovely wife," another added, nodding along.
Straw laughed softly, resting her elbow against the arm of her chair. "My love story. There isn't much to say, because this is just the beginning of it. We've been married for like two weeks now. We met at a banquet, had our first night together, and got married the next day."
For a moment, the hall went quiet. Then the women exchanged looks with one another, eyes widening before settling back on Straw.
"So it was love at first sight?" one of them asked.
"I'd say kiss at first sight," Straw replied smoothly.
"Who proposed?" another voice chimed in.
"She did," Straw said without hesitation. "It was unexpected and romantic for me."
Diane leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "Wow. Were there flowers? Music? How did she propose?"
Straw's grin stiffened. Her mind raced. There had been no flowers. No music. No heartfelt confession beneath moonlight. Instead, there had been ink, parchment, and a contract that bound her life to the princess's will. She searched for words while keeping her expression light. As she spoke, she noticed something else. The maid she had sent away had not returned yet.
"Haha, what can I say," Straw said at last. "My wife is such a romantic person that the moment you lay eyes on her, you can't help but bend the knee."
A few of the ladies laughed, satisfied enough with the answer. Straw took the opportunity to redirect the conversation.
"Speaking of women, I heard you were friends with the late Lady Barth."
The shift was immediate. Diane's smile faded, her shoulders stiffening as if the weight of the name had pressed down on her.
"Oh yes," she said quietly. "She was more than a friend. She was my sister. I never thought there would be a day without her by my side. We had planned to do so many things together. Now we are never going to…"
Her voice faltered. She turned away slightly, lifting a hand to wipe at her eyes.
"Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss," Straw said gently, moving closer. "Having so many enemies is the worst thing one could have."
Diane looked up sharply, tears still clinging to her lashes. "Enemies? She had no enemies. Everyone loved her for her kind nature. She was a lovely daughter, a lovely sister, and my dear friend."
Her composure cracked, and she began to weep openly.
"Oh my," Straw murmured, reaching out to help wipe her tears. "I'm sure she would have made you her maid of honor. I heard she was to be married to the late Lord of Finance. They would have made such a lovely couple."
The warmth vanished from Diane's expression.
"Lord of Finance?" she said bitterly. "She was never in love with him. That man was horrible. He chased her every chance he got, and when she refused him, he murdered her. I am so glad he is dead. If the princess hadn't beheaded him, I would have done it myself."
Straw felt something twist in her chest.
"Wow, that's my wife," she muttered under her breath, unable to hide the note of pride.
"What?" Diane asked, looking at her.
"Oh," Straw said quickly. "I mean my wife would have loved her if she had known her."
Just then, footsteps approached.
The maid returned and handed Straw her drink. Straw accepted it without much thought and took a sip. The taste was wrong immediately. Too sweet. Too light.
"This tastes like fruit juice," she said, frowning. "I requested wine, not juice. Can you please change it?"
"I'm sure you've had enough for tonight, my lady," the maid replied calmly.
At the sound of that voice, Straw froze.Her fingers tightened around the cup. She knew that voice. Slowly, deliberately, Straw lifted her gaze and looked closely at the maid's face. Her eyes widened.
It was Berryanna, disguised as a maid.
"Holy shit?"