The Romantic Trials Of A Transmigrated Empress
Chapter 340: The mourning of Lady Jane

Chapter 340: The mourning of Lady Jane

For someone whose ball was being whispered about as a beautiful failure in the news, Sigrid had rather a serene smile on her face. Unlike all of her servants and the people around her that were trembling, worried that she would explode at any moment, she was in a great mood.

She was in such a great mood that she ate a lot at breakfast before heading to the Fairfax manor, to call on the family of the late Lady Jane Fairfax.

When their car pulled up outside the gates, bells on the watchtowers of the manor were tolling a mournful peal. A mixture of cars and carriages were waiting in line to enter the gates. Those that could not stand the wait were walking into the gates on foot.

All of the nobles that came had grim looks on their faces. Some of them had not come to morn but rather confirm for themselves the sordid details of her death. The news claimed that she had been stabbed in the heart with a pen by her stepdaughter Emmah Fairfax.

It was such a terrible thing to happen that it clouded all the news on the ball, with the exception of Emmah’s appearance and her scandal. She was more famous than she had ever been before and she would be remembered forever in Eldoria’s history, after all, she was the first noble daughter to stab her mother in the heart.

She was now a fugitive, a wanted woman. Her pictures were in every newspaper and her face was shown on television every after a program.

A handsome reward of one thousand gold had been offered by Lord Derrick Fairfax for any information that led to her successful capture. It was another reason why there were many mourners at the Fairfax estate, all sorts of people were showing up to trade information and collect the bounty.

Sigrid and Roland passed the mourners, exchanging glances and small words of condolence.

"Sorry for your loss." People said to them. "It is a pity." Others said as she tried to shake the hands of the royal couple.

It all confused Roland. He was not count Fairfax or Lady Jane’s husband or son. Why was it his loss?

Sigrid on the other hand responded to them with the briefest of words. "Yes, such a pity. Truly a shame. She will be missed."

Her words held no truth as she was not close to Lady Jane and she personally would not miss the woman. Like everyone else there, she was not just armed with condolences but scandalous memories of Lady Jane as well.

The greatest two being her fight with Lady Percival at the Bachelor’s auction ball and when she fought Emmah and fell over, exposing her undergarments.

Others had even more scandalous memories than that, especially those that had known Lady Jane for many years.

Inside the house, in the drawing room, Count Fairfax was holding court with a few nobles, talking about the incompetence of the police for failing to apprehend Emmah right away.

He had also blamed the hospital for not saving Lady Jane quick enough. He conveniently left out the fact that she had been discovered thirty minutes after Emmah had long escaped. By that time, she had bled out and her body was turning cold.

The count had also blamed the mages, claiming that if mages worked in hospitals, they would have saved her. But mages were not doctors and there were not enough of them to be allocated to hospitals.

Even if one had been there, what could he or she have done for the dead Lady Jane? They could not resurrect the dead.

Meanwhile, Lord Derrick Fairfax --stoic, red eyed and stinking of an ale cologne--stood by a window, visibly overwhelmed. But it was not by grief, but by the blame which his father had laid at his feet.

If he had not gone out and slept with the wrong woman, he would not have birthed a bastard daughter that killed his wife. In fact, there was an even shorter route to the blame. If he had not brought Emmah into the Fairfax family, his wife would not be dead today. His children had made that more than clear.

Shortly after that, they threw out the rest of his bastard children with some silver coins for each and sent them off to live on the family property in the village. Those that wished to stay in the capital were in their own.

He could hear the whispers about his wife. Everyone had a story to tell about her.

"She was a very good drinker." Lady Percival, Jane’s long time frenemy said, flaunting her newest velvet cloak and fake tears. "We were such good friends and we shared a lot of good wine in the last month. Misty Sherry was her favorite wine. I brought some with me to give poor Lord Derrick."

Poor Lord Derrick sent a side eye to Lady Percival, eyeing the crystal wine bottle she was showing off to everyone. Misty Sherry tasted like piss and his dead wife would never be caught drinking it. The same went for him.

"Do you remember the time she called Lady Troll-bridge a troll?" Someone asked.

"Oh yes we all do, the fight which followed was wild. She was not afraid to throw her fists when she wanted to make a point."

"I cannot believe that she is going to miss the second season of the dark rise of Lady Blanche. She loved that series so much."

"She always called herself a Blanche in the making."

"And sometimes she was a Somerset."

"Does anyone recall when she was so drunk that she used Lord Benton’s toupee as a handkerchief?"

"Or when she called Prince Benjamin a a handsome fart."

People giggled.

In the midst of giggles, someone started to sob. It was true she had been a menace to many, but now that she was dead, her ridiculousness and insufferable ways almost seemed tolerable. Many were thinking that they would miss them.

A few servants came by with trays of egg sandwiches, teas and juice. Most of the guests were glad for something to eat.

Lady Underwood, a nine three year old woman that had known Lady Jane’s mother sang a song that Lady Jane had loved in life, "The last toast to trouble."

Her voice nearly made Sigrid wince. It was a gravelly blend of wheezing sick cat against screeching out of tune violin. Nobody stopped Lady Underwood however, and many joined her.

As the song was about to come to an end and Lady Underwood hit an impossible high note, Roland whispered a question to Sigrid. "So why do you suppose Emmah did it?"