Chapter 22: Journey Through the Middle Ages

Chapter 22: Journey Through the Middle Ages

Naturally, the banquet wasn’t just about food and drink; there were also various entertainments.

At the climax of the banquet, midway through the main course, four attendants carried up a huge round pie and placed it in the center of the dining table. The crust of the pie was decorated with the Balzac family’s coat of arms, and its massive size was quite impressive—such pies were very common in medieval court banquets, and they were more for show than for eating.

Similar to the elaborate sugar sculptures of later centuries, which were also for display rather than consumption, the nobles of this era were not yet wealthy enough to waste sugar on such extravagance.

Amidst the attention of the crowd, Louisa casually glanced at the pie and then at the main dishes on the head table... the roasted beef with eel sauce, milk oats with gilded wild boar, and roasted swan. The pungent eel sauce made the roasted beef unappetizing. The gilded wild boar was literally gilded with gold foil, as it seemed that golden food was highly favored at the time. To achieve this, either gold foil was applied or saffron was used to dye the food.

Although a bit of gold foil wouldn’t harm anyone—modern extravagant dishes sometimes use it—Louisa instinctively rejected it. As for the roasted swan, it was likely a custom of the time to make cooked dishes look as they did when alive. Thus, the roasted swan had its feathers reattached one by one with honey.

Louisa didn’t dwell on whether the feathers had been boiled, dried, or reused, or if they might carry diseases. Even when the attendant cut into the swan, she had no intention of touching the meat inside.

At that moment, an attendant began cutting the large pie, and Louisa noticed that his movements were not smooth. Before she could figure out why, the crust of the pie broke open, revealing that it was hollow! Then, a few birds flew out from the opening...

The crowd gasped in astonishment!

Louisa was speechless.

This wasn’t the first time she had seen something like this. She hadn’t encountered such spectacles in the convent, but after returning to the Brundo court, things were different. If she had been amazed and puzzled at first, she was now accustomed to it—perhaps because the food itself was unremarkable, they resorted to theatrics to liven things up.

Louisa watched quietly, indifferent to both the commotion and the food. Her cool composure struck her supporters as noble, but others found it displeasing and were tempted to "act drunk."

"Drink, drink, drink!" Wine cups were passed around the lower tables.

At such banquets, the most distinguished individuals each had a small but exquisite portion of food in front of them. Others, however, often shared a dish among several people, and even if attendants divided it for them, it still seemed less dignified. Overall, this was still seen as a form of individual dining, and the same applied to drinks—each person had their own cup, so passing cups around was not the norm.

But there were exceptions, especially when the atmosphere was particularly lively. Offering one’s cup to someone of lower status was a sign of goodwill. However, the person offering the cup had to remember to finish all their food first and wipe their mouth, especially their upper lip, clean to avoid leaving grease on the cup or in the wine.

Suddenly, a man stood up, holding a wine cup in one hand, and shouted at Count Balzac, "My lord, I have no complaints, save one—our future ruler will be a woman!"

Louisa remembered this burly man with a messy beard. He was a baron of Brundo, and his reason for saying this seemed like a simple complaint—after all, female rulers were uncommon in this patriarchal, even misogynistic society. No vassal wanted their lord to be a woman.

But Louisa remembered that he was related to her cousin by marriage, having married his sister to Louisa’s cousin three years ago. This year, that cousin had a legitimate child, and this "fertility" had clearly sparked other ambitions in Brundo.

If Brundo did not follow the "eldest child inheritance" (which prioritized males over females) but instead the more common "eldest son inheritance" or "male-preference primogeniture," the title of Count Brundo and all its associated privileges would likely go to Louisa’s cousin.

This was a provocation, aimed at pushing Count Balzac to alter the territory’s laws—something that was uncommon at the time and usually only done by the royal family. Compared to ordinary nobles, royal nobles wielded greater power and could bend the rules to their advantage.

But as they say, where there’s a will, there’s a way... that was the thinking of some people.

However, these people didn’t consider that most royal families who changed inheritance laws did so to allow their daughters to inherit... Male inheritance was naturally prioritized, and if the goal was to allow a son to inherit, there was no need to change the law. Only when daughters were denied inheritance, and the benefits went to "outsiders," did people have the motivation to make such a fuss.

Of course, sometimes people also went to great lengths to allow illegitimate children to inherit... but for an illegitimate child to inherit a title, the process was far more complicated and could not be openly discussed—at least by this time, illegitimate children definitely had no inheritance rights.

In practice, an illegitimate child’s inheritance was only accepted after the fact, and people had no choice but to accept it.

In a sense, no successful illegitimate heir was ever "legitimate." But being illegitimate didn’t prevent their "existence."

The wine back then was low in alcohol, and wine was often watered down during meals (not to save money but because it was considered better that way), making it even milder. If someone was prone to getting drunk, they should have been more cautious at a court banquet. Such bold remarks could only be deliberate.

Count Balzac frowned, clearly annoyed by the baron’s outburst.

Perhaps some would rather benefit a nephew than let a daughter inherit. At least a nephew shared the same surname, while a daughter’s marriage would transfer the land to her husband, changing the family name—but Count Balzac was not that kind of person. He generally preferred his own bloodline to inherit.

Now, someone bringing this up seemed more like a challenge to him as the lord... Would they not recognize his daughter as the Countess if he insisted on following the tradition of eldest child inheritance?

The laughter died down, and the room grew as tense as Count Balzac’s expression.

"Yes, barring any unforeseen circumstances, the future ruler of Brudo will be a woman," Louisa rose calmly, shattering the unusual silence.

The drunken baron seemed surprised that Louisa would step forward. In his expectation, the count might be displeased but would not say anything during the banquet. He also had to wonder if more of his vassals shared this sentiment, not wanting a female liege over this land. As for Louisa, he hadn't considered her at all!

A 'woman,' what could one expect from a 'woman'? Weak, foolish, vain, always needing a 'guardian'—that's what women are... even if she is the legitimate heir of Brudo.

Due to deep-rooted prejudice, he never expected Louisa to stand up, so when she did, his first reaction was anger. Perhaps the alcohol had indeed numbed his nerves, and the baron couldn't help but sneer, "Listen, lady, you ought to stay quiet and act like a proper little woman. This is no place for you to speak."

Louisa didn't want the nobles of Brudo to think she was someone easy to bully. It wasn’t about being overly assertive or challenging the male-dominated norms of the time. It was just that, as the female heir of Brudo, she had to prepare to rule this land and its people in the future.

If she didn’t want to complicate her future, she had to set the right precedent now.

"You may not see me as a 'little woman.' Before the identity of a 'woman,' I am first the heir of Brudo, your future liege lord—I believe this world prioritizes hierarchy before gender. Otherwise, you shouldn't bow to Her Majesty the Queen, and the male subjects under your rule shouldn't respect your wife and daughters," Louisa countered with the logic of the times.

But this seemed to offend him. The baron, unable to find a strong retort, angrily said, "Oh! How dare you! You are clearly not my lord yet... If it must be so, I can only say I am very sorry—"

"You should be careful with your words. Do you really know what you're saying?" Louisa cut off what could have been even more offensive words to avoid an irreparable situation, coldly stating, "My authority and position are derived from my lineage and the law, not from you... You need to understand the boundaries of your own power."

Fortunately, the noble beside the baron, who was slow to react, finally caught on. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at the radiant heir of Brudo in that moment, quickly pulling the drunken baron down, "Baron, hey! You're really drunk!"