My Fabulous Forty-Something Father Becomes a Bride - Chapter 6
Chapter 6
A Day in the Life of Father, the Busy Wife—Vlog Edition.
Father was very busy the next day.
He not only had to attend court, but also had to pay his respects to his mother-in-law.
The trouble was that morning court began very early.
Father had crammed an entire collection of stories about conflict between wives and their mothers-in-law. He intended to be a courteous, rule-abiding daughter-in-law and leave his political enemies no opening to attack him.
Whether as a wife or as a daughter-in-law, he would conduct himself so impeccably that no one could find fault!
Thus, he had two tasks that morning. First, attend court. Second, pay his respects.
But what was he to do when the two schedules conflicted?
The proper order of reverence was heaven, earth, sovereign, parents, and teachers. The sovereign ranked before one’s parents, so the Duchess and the rest of the household would simply have to make a small sacrifice.
Since Father had to hurry to court, the greetings would have to happen earlier.
Morning court began at the hour of the Rabbit.
Father was meticulous and highly punctual. He normally left half an hour early so he could enjoy some friendly conversation with his colleagues before the session began.
He held himself to high standards. Becoming a wife did not mean he would allow anyone to criticize his performance as a minister.
He allotted two hours for breakfast and the customary introduction of a new bride to every branch of the family. He also reserved a full hour for the masters and mistresses of the household to dress.
That way, no one would be forced to appear in public improperly attired simply because they had been rushed out of bed.
And so…
The hour of the Rat had only just begun. Outside, the night was pitch-black.
Father rose and sent servants across the estate to wake everyone.
He had just removed a great worry from his heart—the marriage decreed by the Empress.
He had neither drunk at a banquet nor spent the night trading schemes. He had devoted himself entirely to venting his anger, after which he slept wonderfully. One hour of rest refreshed him as much as two normally did.
The other members of the ducal household did not possess his peace of mind. First, Father’s exploits had scared them half to death.
After retiring to their rooms, they had spent most of the night discussing the disaster with their confidants. They had barely fallen into a proper sleep when Father roused them again.
He had brought only a few attendants with him, but every one of them was formidable.
They had served beside him during his provincial postings. They had never fought in a true war, but they had clashed with local chieftains and powerful clans with real blades and real blood. Father and Mother had paid them generous pensions so they could enjoy their old age.
Now Father needed them, and after changing into suitable clothes, they returned to work.
I never learned what methods those uncles and aunts employed. I only heard that not a single member of the ducal household failed to appear that morning.
The sky was still dark. Lanterns burned in the main hall, illuminating a room full of exhausted, dazed faces both old and young.
Father stood before them in his bright red official robe, brimming with energy. Behind him, he was still swinging around one thoroughly wilted dandy.
He went from person to person, formally paying his respects. To each, he declared that the Empress had personally chosen him as the new bride of the ducal household.
From this day forward, he was their young mistress. They must not judge him for his past. Yes, he was a little older, and yes, technically this was his second marriage.
But he was the person Her Majesty had carefully selected for their family!
If anyone truly found it impossible to get along with him, they would simply have to swallow their feelings.
They could say ugly things among themselves behind closed doors, but they must not spread them outside. Beyond these walls, the ducal household was one body, and every one of them was part of it. They would rise together and fall together.
Father grew emotional as he spoke. At the height of his passion, tears streamed down his face.
No one else in the room understood what there was to cry about.
Did the old man truly possess such fierce loyalty toward a household he had entered yesterday?
Had he always dreamed of joining them?
Their stomachs were full of questions, but no one dared ask. The whole room could only accompany Father in his tears.
Those unable to produce any tears lifted their sleeves and pretended to dab at their eyes.
Father continued. They should treat him exactly as the household’s young mistress. There must be no resentment between sisters-in-law and no conflict between wife and mother-in-law.
For good measure, he displayed the edict again.
Bestowed by the Empress herself!
The household might belong to a first-rank duke, but there was only one Duke and one Duchess with an imperial title. Even those two could not simply remain seated and accept Father’s greetings, much less anyone of lower rank.
Father could feign innocence and bow to every person he met.
They, however, could not return his greeting with an equal bow. Protocol required something more deferential.
Thus, every time Father paid his respects, the recipient had to bow deeply in return.
The new bride’s first formal greeting had been hastily arranged.
Yet under Father’s powerful command, it concluded in an orderly fashion.
