Born to Not Be Noble

SCHEDULE

First Year: Fundamentals and Noble Etiquette Objective: Laying the foundation for manners, etiquette, and basic knowledge for a young noblewoman. Weekly Schedule (Monday to Saturday, 8:00 AM - 12:00 AM) FASTING.

8:00 AM - 10:00 AM:

Manners and Etiquette (table manners, body language, introductions). Introduction to basic diplomacy (ways of greeting, noble hierarchies).

10:00 AM - 12:00 PM:

History of the Duchy and Kingdom (key events, genealogies, important treaties). Geography of the kingdom (borders, resources, trade routes).

12:00 PM - 2:00 PM:

Lunch and supervised break.

2:00 PM - 4:00 PM:

Dance and music (formal dances and use of instruments popular among the nobility). Sewing and embroidery (practical and artistic skills).

4:00 PM - 6:00 PM:

Classical literature and poetry (essential works of the kingdom). Foreign languages (introduction to the languages of neighboring realms).

6:00 PM - 7:00 PM:

Light dinner.

7:00 PM - 9:00 PM:

Basic Mathematics (arithmetic, proportions, and useful measurements for daily life). Basic domestic management (handling staff and organizing events).

9:00 PM - 12:00 AM:

Social situation simulation (roleplay with actors to practice manners). Daily reflection and notes in personal journal.

Sunday: Light simulations:

Practice of social interactions and speeches. Reflection on progress and preparation of outfits for upcoming events.

Nobility has its own set of rules. It's not enough to be rich, influential, and have a name long enough to require a pause for breathing; no, that would be too easy. To stay at the top, one must master the art of manners and etiquette. Because, apparently, the fate of a kingdom could depend on whether you use the right fork for the salad.

For commoners (and anyone who values simplicity), table manners are just a set of gestures that prevent you from looking like a caveman while eating. But for nobles, it's an elaborate choreography that could make even the best dancer nervous. Every tilt of the head, every movement of the knife, every bow must be flawless. One slip, like using the fish knife to cut bread, and you could end up as the laughingstock of the season.

Lilith, who until recently had no idea how important all of this was, now found herself at the center of this storm of social rules. And it didn't help that the expectations placed upon her were higher than her mother's hairstyle.

8:00 AM - 10:00 AM:

At eight o'clock sharp, Lilith was sitting in the practice hall, a space designed exclusively for young noblewomen to learn how not to embarrass themselves in society. The room was as extravagant as everything else in the mansion: a long mahogany table, crystal chandeliers, and a series of portraits of old dukes watching with stern expressions that practically screamed, "Don't mess up."

Her mother, always so direct, had made it clear: Lilith was not just a young duchess in training; she was the key to the future of the family. A piece in a political game she hadn't asked to play.

"This is what I am, huh? A spoiled girl who has to learn how to use ten different forks so my family doesn't lose influence. A dream come true."

Not that she had a problem with learning new things, but the level of perfection demanded of her made her feel like a bird told it had to fly in a straight line and sing at the same time.

Lilith sighed, resting her chin in her hand. She wanted to understand why all of this was so important, but at the same time, she couldn't help but imagine a simpler life, one where she didn't have to worry about greeting a count without breaking her neck in the process.

A piercing gaze made her straighten up from her improper noblewoman posture.

In front of her, with a poise so perfect it seemed she had never known the concept of relaxation, was the etiquette teacher, Madame Amélie DuPont. Tall, thin, and with a perpetually disapproving expression, Madame Amélie was the kind of woman who could find a flaw in the way you breathed.

"Lady Lilith, I trust you're ready for today's lesson. This will be crucial for your development as a representative of House Delacroix."

Lilith lifted her gaze and met the scrutinizing look of the teacher, who seemed to have a radar for detecting imperfections. The woman was impeccably dressed, wearing a gray tight-fitting dress with a brooch that probably cost a third of Lilith's dress.

"Lady Lilith, today we will begin with the fundamentals of etiquette. This includes behavior at the table, body language, and, of course, formal introductions. A lady of your position must be flawless at all times. These are the building blocks."

"Building blocks for what, exactly? To avoid a world war?" Lilith thought as she nodded mechanically.

"First, we will review the correct posture at the table. This is essential to convey authority and grace. Observe."

Madame Amélie sat in a chair as if she were a robot programmed for perfection. Her back straight, feet together and slightly tilted to one side, hands resting gently on her lap. Even the act of sitting seemed like a choreographed performance.

"An incorrect posture signals carelessness. And carelessness, Lady Lilith, is the mortal enemy of nobility. Imagine you're at a dinner with the queen and you sit like a peasant. What impression do you think that will give?"

Lilith tilted her head, observing Madame Amélie's mechanical perfection. "I think the queen should worry more about whether her food has been poisoned or not, right?"

"Now, Lady Lilith, sit."

Lilith moved toward the chair with a mix of insecurity and indifference, aware that all eyes were on her. She tried to mimic Madame Amélie's posture, but her back began to ache the moment she tried to keep it straight.

"Straighten up, Lady Lilith. Your spine looks like a weeping willow."

"Well, at least I'm a tree," she thought, adjusting her posture.

Meanwhile, the Trent triplets watched from a corner, ready to step in if necessary. Emily stepped forward, whispering, "Lady Lilith, try tilting your feet a little more to the right. That will make you look more balanced."

Lilith complied, though she couldn't help thinking that "balanced" was a rather generous word to describe how she felt. Evelyn, with a kind smile, added, "And relax your shoulders. You look like you're about to be executed."

"And aren't I?" Lilith murmured, unaware. She earned a warning look from Madame Amélie.

What happened? She didn't want to speak... for some reason, Lilith briefly lost control over her mouth.

The Art of Table Behavior

Once Madame Amélie was satisfied with Lilith's posture (or at least pretended to be to avoid wasting more time), she moved on to table behavior.

By magic, a display of plates, cutlery, and glasses appeared, looking more like a puzzle than a dinner setting. There were fish forks, butter knives, and something Lilith suspected was a medieval weapon disguised as a spoon.

"Lady Lilith, at a formal banquet, each utensil has its function and timing. The key is to start from the outside and work your way in."

Madame Amélie delicately picked up a fork and cut a small piece of bread with the precision of a surgeon. Lilith watched, trying to memorize every movement.

"Now, you."

Lilith looked at the cutlery in front of her as if it were a minefield. She picked up a knife and fork, trying to replicate the gesture. The knife slipped from her hand, clattering against the plate with a sound that echoed through the room. The bread flew across the table. The Trent triplets immediately stepped in.

"Lady Lilith, maybe try holding the knife a little lower," suggested Elise.

"And don't press the fork so hard against the bread," added Emily.

Lilith sighed. She adjusted her grip.

After several attempts (and some mutilated pieces of bread), Lilith managed to cut an acceptable piece. Madame Amélie nodded slightly, which was probably the closest thing to a compliment she could offer.

Basic Diplomacy: The Tragedy of the Greeting

With table behavior mostly behind her, Madame Amélie moved on to basic diplomacy.

"Lady Lilith, the greeting is the first contact you have with other nobles. It must be a blend of grace and authority. A bow should show respect, but not submission. It must be an act of balance. Observe."

The teacher walked toward Edric Ward, the knight-butler, who had been standing silently at the back of the room, looking more like a statue than a person. Madame Amélie performed a perfect bow, leaning just enough to show respect without seeming submissive.

"Now, you try."

Lilith stood up, adjusting her dress, and walked toward Oliver Baine, the butler's apprentice. As she attempted to mimic the bow, she lost her balance slightly and had to grab the edge of the table to avoid falling.

"Lady Lilith, that wasn't a bow. That was a genuflection from someone about to lose their head," Madame Amélie commented coldly.

Margaret, the little adopted one, let out a suppressed giggle. Lilith shot her a playful look that said, "Go ahead. At least you're enjoying my mistakes."

As the lesson continued, Lilith couldn't help but feel more disconnected. Every gesture, every word, every correction reminded her that her life now revolved around an unattainable standard of perfection.

"How am I supposed to become a queen if I can't even cut bread without looking like a public threat?"

However, despite her frustration, there was something that kept her going: her curiosity. She wanted to understand why all of this was so important, not only to her mother but to everyone around her.

"If being perfect is so vital, how have the nobles survived so long without going crazy?"

When the clock struck ten, Madame Amélie announced the end of the session. Lilith slumped into the chair, feeling more exhausted than she ever had since she lost her memory, of course.

"Well done, Lady Lilith. There's still much to improve, but you have potential. Let's take a 5-minute break. I'll see you in the other room," said the teacher, though her tone sounded more like "I hope you don't mess it up more tomorrow."

Lilith looked at her servants, who gathered around her to help her adjust her posture and offer words of encouragement. Although she wouldn't admit it out loud, she felt a small sense of gratitude toward them.

"At least I have a team. Even if it seems like no one's on my side, the ones that matter are."

With an ironic smile, she stood up to face the next challenge of the day. "If I survive this, maybe I can survive everything else. Or maybe not. But at least it'll be fun to watch."

If this doesn't kill her, it'll probably be the soup she accidentally spills on some prince.