Page 107 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

"Good morning," Bea replied with a knowing smile. "You're glowing."

Carol felt her face heat. "I am not."

"You absolutely are," Bea said. "It's very becoming."

"Shall we discuss the banquet preparations?" Sterling interjected smoothly.

"Yes, please," Carol said gratefully.

Sterling opened his ledger. "I've taken the liberty of drafting a preliminary guest list based on His Grace's northern holdings and political relationships. With your permission, I'd like to review it."

"Of course," Carol said.

Sterling began reading. "Marquis Henrik Stormhold. Earl Magnus Ironwood. Earl Tobias Coldwater. Earl Oswald Greymoor. Earl Brennan Wolfstone. Baron Thaddeus Icevale. Baron Tobias Snowridge..."

He continued through several more names—northern nobles and their families, vassals who served under Caspian's authority, key military officers, and a few select merchants who'd contributed significantly to Frostmarch's economy.

"Approximately eighty guests total," Sterling concluded. "A substantial gathering, but appropriate for a ducal wedding banquet."

"Eighty people," Carol repeated quietly. All of them watching her. Judging whether she'd truly changed.

"You'll be wonderful," Bea said, squeezing her hand under the table.

Carol took a breath. "The invitations should go out today. We only have a week."

"I've already prepared them," Sterling said. "They await only your approval before dispatch via fast messenger. Given the short notice, some may be unable to attend, but most should manage the journey."

"Excellent," Carol said. "What about the menu?"

"The head cook requests your input," Sterling said. "She's prepared several options for your consideration."

They spent the next hour reviewing proposed dishes—roasted meats, elaborate pastries, seasonal vegetables prepared in the northern style, imported wines, and an impressive array of desserts.

"This all sounds excellent," Carol said. "The cook has my full approval. And please tell her to include extra desserts. Particularly those honey cakes."

"The ones you purchased six of at the market?" Sterling asked, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone.

"They're very good," Carol said. "The guests will appreciate them."

"Indeed, my lady."

Bea examined the decoration plans spread across the table. "We should continue the warm aesthetic you've been establishing. Rich colors, comfortable seating, good lighting. Make the hall feel welcoming rather than austere."

"I agree," Carol said. "This is meant to show that Frostholme is a home, not just a fortress."

"Exactly," Bea said. "Table arrangements here..." She pointed to the diagram. "Music positioned to fill the space without overwhelming conversation. Dancing in the center, of course. You and Caspian will open the ball."

Carol felt a flutter of nervousness. "We'll need to practice."

"I'm sure he won't mind," Bea said with a meaningful smile.

They discussed seating protocols—who should be placed near the head table, which nobles might have conflicts that required careful separation, how to honor the various ranks without causing offense.

Sterling proved invaluable, his knowledge of northern noble relationships and hierarchies preventing several potential diplomatic incidents before they could occur.

"What will you wear?" Bea asked.

"I have several appropriate gowns," Carol said. "The deep blue one with the silver embroidery would work well."