Chapter 57: Should I Scare Them a Little?

"Whose daughter is she?" asked one Lady Yalf.

"I've never seen her before, but she looks quite charming. Still, she seems a bit familiar—like I've seen her somewhere!" replied another Lady Yalf.

Listening to their murmurs, Margaret looked up curiously at them.

She noticed many were officers from the Huskarl ranks. She thought to herself that these people were truly corrupt; this was clearly not a society of monogamy!

Yet, she quickly reminded herself that they deserved it. Back then, they had nearly risked their lives protecting the territory and rightly earned their rewards according to their contributions.

Though their behavior was somewhat corrupt, it did not diminish their contributions and achievements.

"They must all be military nobles granted titles by Harold," Margaret mused. She recalled that only four had been ennobled before, but now it seemed there were many more.

"What has happened?" she murmured to herself, bewildered by the great changes at her doorstep. She had been away for just half a day—how had everything become so different?

"Miss Confused, don’t you know what’s happened?" A few taller Miss Dutis overheard her muttering. They covered their mouths to chuckle, their tones tinged with mockery.

Miss Confused? Margaret looked at them puzzled, her face full of question marks.

How irritating!

One Miss Duti asked curiously, "Which Duti family are you from? Your hair is so beautiful! May I touch it?"

Margaret immediately rejected the notion in her mind. She was fastidious and did not want strangers touching her hair, and it felt somewhat insubordinate, even if the other party’s curiosity and compliment were innocent.

"Have you inherited the lordship?" another Miss Duti pointed at the vow ring around Margaret’s neck and asked with curiosity. "I didn’t expect, besides Lady Polly, there’d be another female lord? How old are you?"

Faced with this barrage of questions, Margaret blinked uncertainly, unsure which to answer first.

Having remained silent until now, she furrowed her brow slightly, feeling overwhelmed by the volume of inquiries.

Moreover, the noble class here seemed overly numerous, to the point of noise and confusion.

She preferred quiet places, spending time alone to ponder.

She needed no friends; only her subordinates could be called "friends."

---

There were about twenty or so Miss Dutis, ranging in age from five or six to their early teens. Nearby, even more noble youths, forming cliques and strutting arrogantly, added to the chaotic scene.

In a different setting, a fight might have broken out.

Margaret felt a swirl of confusion. She had worried that after the territory’s expansion, there would be no one to enfeoff and station in her stead. But now, that no longer seemed a problem.

Still, the sheer number of Dutis puzzled her.

Even a newly ennobled noble eight years ago with three or four wives couldn’t have produced so many Dutis, she thought.

Could there be hidden war orphans with heroic fathers? Like those who bear nine cubs at once.

Besides, with such a lively crowd, was Harold issuing a war conscription order? But why bring the womenfolk? Was this a gathering of lords?

The more she thought, the more perplexed she became. None of it made logical sense or showed clear signs.

She realized she might need to go inside and ask someone to find out what had happened. She felt uneasy not knowing about such a major event.

Not far off, two groups of noble youths seemed to be arguing.

They noticed Margaret and, nudged by their friends, looked over, pointing towards her direction and murmuring among themselves.

Soon after, two well-dressed noble youths approached.

Margaret, who appeared calm but was inwardly full of thoughts, felt she might be blocking the way. She lifted her foot to move but then pulled it back, unwilling to yield.

She was caught between politeness telling her to step aside and a domineering mindset insisting that others should always make way for her.

"Hello, miss. I was instantly captivated by your beauty. May I know your name?" one noble youth asked.

Amidst the envious and begrudging glances of the Miss Dutis, Margaret looked around uncertainly and pointed to herself.

"Is there anyone more beautiful than you here? Allow me to offer you my passionate admiration!" The other noble youth shot his companion a disdainful glance, a confident smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, what do you mean by that? Do you think we’re ugly?" A Miss Duti challenged, her gaze towards Margaret tinged with displeasure.

"Please forgive my frankness. Though flowers need leaves to complement them, the leaves themselves possess their own unique beauty." As soon as this was said, the girls’ expressions improved considerably.

---

"Stop, stop talking! If you say another word, I’ll be torn apart by this seemingly harmonious but secretly competitive group of older and younger sisters!" Margaret hurriedly stepped aside, muttering to herself. She had no desire to become the center of jealousy, especially among this not-so-friendly company of Miss Dutis.

At that moment, several servants emerged from the lord’s hall, heads held high, announcing, "The ceremony is ready to begin. Lady Polly, the great lady, requests everyone to enter and prepare to swear allegiance to the new queen!"

"New queen?" Margaret’s confusion deepened.

Had someone usurped the throne? But she quickly dismissed the thought.

This did not resemble the posture of a coup, and with the separation of powers, a coup was nearly impossible.

Could it be... She had a faint suspicion that this might concern her. It ought to be a routine oath-swearing ceremony.

After all, she was already eight years old.

Among commoners, children also swore allegiance to Yarl at this age and received symbolic arm rings granting them the right to Viking.

At that moment, a servant noticed Margaret surrounded by the Miss Dutis.

She stepped forward, bowed, and said, "So you are here? Lady Polly has been anxiously waiting; she requests you come at once!"

Margaret nodded, acknowledging the message. She left amid the puzzled gazes of the Miss Dutis.

She eagerly anticipated their reactions upon learning her identity, pondering whether to intimidate them a little.

The Miss Dutis speculated about Margaret’s identity, chattering away.

"Could she be Lady Polly’s daughter? Or perhaps Lord Harold’s?" they guessed, following the summons of their parents into the lord’s hall.

Margaret was led by the servant to a bedroom filled with dresses she had never seen before.