Noblesse Oblige [Znt/SI]

[shadenight123]

Chapter Thirty-Eight

There was a certain sense of nervousness as I held on to my familiar with the same care and worry of a newly minted mother with their newborn. Though Raven was quite content in nestling in my arms, he took off every now and then to grab small shiny pebbles from the ground and drop them in my outstretched hand, cawing as I blinked at him trying to puzzle it out. He flapped his wings, flying back and forth, and as I understood the message, I threw the pebble up in the air for him to catch.

"So your familiar is a dog with wings," Anthoine said, his snake resting in his lap with the most content and demure of expressions, enjoying the warmth of his master's lap as well as the sun. "Better than a sloth without limbs at least," he added with a sigh, "But you're my sloth, you got that?" he whispered to his familiar. "At least it's not a nightingale like Gascon's. That bird's singing can wake up the dead. Only to make it shut up," he shuddered.

Near us, a white steed galloped by at full speed, leaving behind a small cloud of dust.

"How long has he been circling the main building?" I asked, throwing the pebble up in the air for Raven to catch once more, before dropping it in my outstretched hand the next moment. "Even this morning he was at it."

"He says his familiar enjoys the feeling of the wind on his face, just like him," Anthoine said.

I chuckled, and gestured for Raven to come down to rub his feathered head a bit, before throwing a pebble as fast as I could up in the air. Raven pushed himself off my lap with his wings flapping hard, catching the pebble before it could reach the peak of its arc, and then made a back flip before dropping it back in my open palm.

"What about your beloved?" I remarked.

"Oh, Henriette's gone with a professor to the nearby mountains-it was the best place to keep her familiar. It's not the first time a dragon is summoned, and the academy will shore up the costs for it," Anthoine pointed out. "She'll probably enter the Dragon Knight corps with that familiar of hers." He hummed, "And the more time she spends in the army, the less time she'll spend worrying about where I am."

I shook my head with a chuckling noise, "So the betrothal went through with ease?"

"Course it did," Anthoine smiled, "You think I couldn't charm her mother with my good looks? For shame, Henry, for shame! I did have to run from her father though, but Gascon's secret escape magic helped me a lot."

"Secret...escape magic?" I furrowed my brows, and Anthoine nodded wisely.

"An ancient and most noble spell for a Gramont who wishes to run the hell away. It's a simple Earth spell. It digs a hole in the ground, and covers the top of it. So-"

"So you dig your own tomb," I said with a loud snort, before erupting into laughter. "That's just what I was expecting!"

"Or you can do it on the fourth floor of a building and end up on the ground floor," Anthoine said with his chin up in pride, "But since you're laughing about this, I won't teach it to you."

"Oi, Anthoine, when did I ever say it was stupid? No, no, please teach me, my teacher-" I replied with a smirk.

Anthoine beamed with pride, "Of course, my student! For once, I am the master and you the apprentice, oh, I shall remember this moment fondly in the years to come!"

He did not lay it so thickly as he explained just what the spell did, and how. It was useful, I had to give him that. When the choice was between getting killed by an incensed noble's wand and dirtying one's clothes by ending up a few meters beneath the ground, well-the choice was obvious.

Henriette's return was heralded by a thick smell of sulfur and smoke, her hair pretty much all curly due to the heat she had apparently been subjected to. She sat down, smoke trails behind her, and grabbed the entire pot of tea with the firmness of a person that dared anyone to stop her. She then drank it whole, placing the pot back empty on the table.

"I hate my familiar," she said in the end firmly.

"I'm sure he's just shy," I pointed out from my corner, enjoying my lukewarm cup of tea and pondering why there couldn't be coffee in there instead.

"He's big, and dumb," Henriette grumbled. "I told him to sit, and he spewed fire. I told him to roll, and he spewed fire. I told him to stop spewing fire...and he spewed more fire."

"Perhaps you should spew more fire back at him," I said. "I reckon he was challenging you to a contest of sorts," I grinned. "Show him your hatred, young lady. Show him your flaming passion, and I'm sure he'll defer to you in no time."

Henriette lowered her gaze slightly, "But as a lady-"

"I like passion," Anthoine said, grinning sweetly. "Yours especially, my Rising Flame-"

"Oh, my Twin Bow-" as the two began to make lovey-dovey eyes at one another, I chuckled and stood up with Raven in my arms.

"Well, I'm going to leave you two lovebirds alone and go for a horse ride. We've got the whole day to get to know our familiars, so I'd better get started," and with that said, I walked away after bidding them goodbye. Truth be told, I wanted to reach the capital and spend some leisurely non-witnessed time there buying coffee beans.

"So...care for a challenge, my dear bundle of feathers?" I said as Raven flapped his wings by my side. "The target's the capital, just a short few hours away from here," I pointed in the direction the road was taking, the horse going at a soft trot. "Follow the road and you can't miss it."

"Craa! Craa!" Raven cawed, even as I kicked the flanks of my horse to rush it at a gallop. By my side, even as the wind battered against my face, I could see Raven's wings flap to keep up with ease.

Well, I had to correct my previous statement. It was true that I couldn't have wine while at school, but during Void Days, there was nothing that could stop me from-

It was a griffin.

A griffin plunged down from the skies and made me skid to a near halt with my horse as the figure standing atop it gave me a friendly wave, even as Raven abruptly spun on himself and stopped right by my side.

"Good morning, Henry," Wardes said with a smile on his face, as the terrifying implication of his presence sunk in.

"Jean-Jacques," I said, my lips twitching slightly. "Why are you here?"

"Well, as a recently minted griffin knight, tasked with protecting royalty, I have been given my first task by the king and queen themselves. Since I know the noble who needs an escort in person, I have been given the dull task of escorting him whenever he leaves the academy," Jean-Jacques smiled. "Nice familiar, by the way," he added as he pointed to Raven.

"Jean-Jacques, certainly you can't tell me you've been waiting for me to leave until now-" as I said that, Jean-Jacques laughed and shook his head.

"No, of course not, but knowing you as well as I do, I knew it was only a matter of time before you left the gates of the academy during your free day to head for the capital. So, I decided to ambush you a short distance away from it," his griffin slowly walked by the side of my horse, even as Raven cawed at it, eyes half-narrow as if to suggest a bring it on to the bigger bird.

"This is quite unfair, Jean-Jacques," I groaned, "You'll refer whatever I do to their royal Highness?"

"And your sister, and your parents," Jean-Jacques nodded. "I apologize, Henry, but duty and loyalty to the kingdom must go beyond friendship."

"You truly are a cruel traitor, Jean-Jacques," I exhaled loudly, hanging my head low. "If it had been anyone else, I might have ordered them to go elsewhere."

"That was apparently a point of discussion that did result in me being assigned, indeed," Jean-Jacques said with a small smile. "Now, worry not Henry. I might conveniently forget you've ordered one or two glasses of wine, but don't expect much more leniency from the likes of me."

I shook my head once more. "There's no justice in this world of ours," I groaned. "No justice at all!"

Jean-Jacques laughed, and in the end, I laughed too.

To laugh so that one does not cry.

That is how I would have to roll, wouldn't I?

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I stared at the empty wall on the other side of my room, Raven resting on a perch I had bought during the time spent in the capital. I had a bag of really strong tea leaves that had to be left to dry for the day in order to become usable, and that was it. I had no coffee, my wine was watered, and I couldn't even walk into the Fairy Charming Inn to ogle a few of the pretty ladies within.

I was with my back against the opposite wall, sitting down in quite the non-noble like way. Since there weren't any servants inside my room at the moment, this was the perfect place to fight the system.

"Raven," I said to my crow, "I need to assassinate someone." Raven cawed from his perch, flapping his wings as he stared at me with his eyes. "I mean, this would be easier if I didn't have anyone watching over me, but it's not like I want to kill Wardes." I grumbled. "If only there was something I could do to distract him."

"Craaa, Craa." Raven flapped his wings, and then flew down from his perch to land right in front of me, inclining his head to the side.

"I could try to make my way out at night, but if the servants or the guards discover me-even then, I wouldn't be able to take a horse all the way to the capital-"

Raven flapped his wings, and made one more loud craa. "I know you want to help, but at night the shops are closed. Even if I could send you to get me something, it's not like they'd let you pay-nor would you be able to ask-"

"Able to ask!" Raven said suddenly, "Able to ask!" He hopped back and forth, "Pay! Able to ask!"

I stared at the crow, and then slowly got on my knees, "You...you can speak?"

Raven nodded, hopping back and forth, "Able to ask! Pay!"

I hummed thoughtfully, "On the next Void day, I'll show you where to go. Then we'll try and see what happens," I looked at him with a bit of worry, "But try not to make me worry too much, all right? If it's too hard or anything, you can just come back. I won't be angry, I promise."

"Promise!" Raven cawed. "Promise!" he then hopped a bit more around, and flew back on his perch. "Promise!"

So my raven talked. Well, at the very least this made for an interesting discovery. I could share my senses with him, but it was kind of queasy to look through a bird's eyesight, and smell through his nostrils. It wasn't something I'd suggest, especially not when he was flying -and it made for quite the interesting sensations, feeling in mid-air because you're pushing your wings to stay afloat.

The next week, even with Wardes breathing down on my neck, I still managed to show my familiar the small shop that allowed for familiars to come in and pay in exchange of service -it was a nice idea, honestly. It came from a fallen noble who knew that there were a lot of lazy nobles who would rather send their owls, horses, dragons and the likes to do the job in their stead, and so had put up a large garden in the front of his shop, with a sign to alert of the passing familiars.

Thus, that very same afternoon my Raven went on his first task of the day.

Needless to say I did not pay much attention to the lessons, too busy staring off into the horizon.

"Oi," Anthoine hissed, "professor Colbert is talking to you!"

I blinked and quickly returned my attention to the balding professor. "Thank you for returning to us, Mister Valliere," Colbert said firmly. "As I was saying, reaching Line is a matter of time for most mages, but sometimes the process can be quickened. I am to believe you have reached said threshold during your break, Mister Valliere?"

"Oh, yes," I said with a nod. "Dodging powerful wind magic will do that to you if you really cherish your body's wholeness," I pointed out.

"Well," Professor Colbert coughed with his fist in front of his mouth, "While it is a method that works, it is also extremely dangerous. Safer methods include repetition, understanding of the elements' in their most basic forms, meditation..."

And as the professor kept on speaking, I yawned softly with a hand to cover my mouth. Closing my eyes, I allowed my senses to connect to those of my familiar. He was standing in line with other familiars, the small pouch of Ecus around his neck firmly secured.

There was a hint of happiness at the thought that I was checking on him. A desire for a head rub, some pebble throwing games, and he wanted some juicy apples and minced meat to eat. Well, I could easily accommodate all of that. This in turn made Raven all the more happier. He was so happy he made a small cawing sound, similar to a giggle, and then returned to firmly hop a bit forward as the line proceeded to the next familiar. In his pouch, there was also a written order just in case he didn't manage to say it aloud.

"Mister Valliere!" the exclamation made me sharply jump on my seat, eyes wide. Professor Colbert looked on with a displeased expression, "I would expect you to be paying attention, since this directly relates to Line mages in particular-"

"Sorry, sorry," I said sheepishly. "I promise I'll pay attention."

Professor Colbert nodded, "As I was saying, a Line spell is not simply an empowered Dot spell, though one might wish it to be so by chaining the same element and pronouncing the same chant. It is possible to variate the spell through the second element, while maintaining some of its basic characteristics. Thus, the evocation of a sphere of fire as a single dot fire spell might become a line of fire with a Line spell, or a sphere of paralysis with the addition of a wind element. A water element might create a sphere of steam-there is great versatility in chanting, and in the elements' aligning to one another-though in general, practicing with specific spells is for the best. Variety means nothing if you stand on a battlefield. Know a few, good spells, and you will always triumph in duels."

Half an hour later, and a feeling of victory rose through my chest. I didn't check, but I was sure this meant one simple thing.

Three hours later, with the classes done for, I opened the window of my room and stood in wait for the arrival of my care relief package.

My Raven flew right in, landing with a small package tied on its back. A leather flask filled with red wine, and a pouch of leather that held spherical small beans.

"I love you," I muttered breathlessly as I knelt to hastily remove the straps that held the packages safe. Though the prices were a bit steep due to the cut that the owner of the place took, he had servants sent to buy the stuff from other shops and then bring it back, thus-indeed, it was kind of like ordering from an online site like Ebay. This bit of commercial wisdom was great, especially since I now had both wine and coffee.

"I already told the servants to have your dinner be made of apples and minced meat," I pointed out to Raven, who was excitedly flapping around with various degrees of glee, all the while repeating I love you! I love you! with his raven-like tone.

The beans were something one could eat raw, and I wasted no time with trying a few out.

Though they tasted of watermelon. Wet watermelon. No, rather than wet watermelon, they tasted of water with a hint of melon to them. Spitting out the seeds, I carefully gathered them and then put them aside in another pouch. "You see, Raven," I whispered with a hint of conspiracy to my raven. "The trick to this is that I'm going to plant this beans, and magic the shit out of this entire thing until I manage to self-replicate the conditions for their growth." I smiled. "Then I'm going to do my best to ensure that rather than years, they'll blossom and give fruits in a matter of weeks." I giggled. "And then, then-"

I exhaled as I took a sip of red, unadulterated wine. "Ah...this is life." I patted Raven's head, rubbing his back much to his enjoyment. "You're the best familiar ever, Raven."

I had wine. I had coffee beans. I had an awesome familiar.

...

"The best! The best! I love you!" Raven exclaimed happily, rubbing his raven head against my hand of his own accord.

"Awww, you're the cutest thing ever!" I exclaimed back as I hugged him tight.

Seriously, my familiar couldn't be this cute!

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty

There was one particular festivity that was coming up soon enough. The Sleipnir ball was a masquerade ball that required one to keep a cool head, a nice sense of self, and most importantly understand that the young and pretty lady you're dancing with might just be a third year who is secretly laughing at your woes. It was a day in which Princesses Henrietta blossomed, in which the king and the queen multiplied. It was a day in which the cute loli girl that spent hours looking at her underwear was brutally thrown out of the window by the rest of the teaching staff.

It was a nice, fun day.

Of course, if it couldn't be ruined, then my life wouldn't be so absolutely shitty.

Wardes had been pretty clear on it. I was to await a surprise on that day. As far as surprises went, I knew even before the bell rang six in the afternoon. The royal carriage of Gallia could not be so easily hidden, after all. Not from my familiar's eyes, Raven perched as he was out of the window. Escorted by the royal griffin corps, the young princess of Tristain had decided to participate in the ball herself, accompanied by her playmate Louise Françoise -joy of joys- and the foreign princess Isabella de Gallia.

This was definitely a diplomatic accident just waiting to happen.

"Raven," I said as my familiar flapped his wings, landing on my extended arm. "I have no mouth, but I must scream," I said.

"Scream!" Raven exclaimed, "No mouth, scream!"

"Exactly," I groaned. "Why, oh why," I mumbled. "Let's go about this day as if I had not just seen what I just saw. Maybe it will go away?" I murmured to Raven, who cawed sympathetically, flapping his wings and gesturing to the window.

"Fly away! Fly away!" he suggested most kindly, but I shook my head.

"No, my friend," I said firmly, "Noblesse Oblige," my throat dried up considerably, "Noblesse oblige."

The servants that helped me put on the best of uniforms did so with surprisingly more care than usual. It was clear they had been told, and this was definitely a surprise meant for me. Joy, the ball of Sleipnir was going to end up so badly, it wasn't even a joke.

The moment the servants left, Wardes stepped inside.

"I saw from the window," I pointed out quite flatly. "So...there's a plan?"

Wardes blinked, and then nodded with a smile. "I thought I would have to convince you."

"Please, Jean-Jacques. I might grumble, but I'll uphold my responsibilities. If you're fishing for what I'll transform in, look no further. I haven't altered my appearance last year, and see no reason to do so once more," I pointed out. "I might go for an older look, but the basic substance remains the same."

"Ah, very well," Jean-Jacques said. "Be on the lookout for a blue haired woman then. Though I apologize, they seem to have devised quite a cunning game concerning you."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"They will try to vie for your attention before revealing themselves, should you fall for such tricks I think a public shaming will be in order," Jean-Jacques smiled awkwardly. "Which is why, ensure you do not fall for such tricks. I will come in with princess Henrietta, appearing as professor Chevreuse-"

I shuddered. "Jean-Jacques!" my eyes widened, "That's-That's truly obscene! No, it goes against the law-it must go against-"

Jean-Jacques simply laughed. "Sure, sure-"

"Obscene!" Raven yelled from his perch towards Jean-Jacques, "Obscene!"

Jean-Jacques stared at my familiar with a sigh, "You'll have to go without your familiar-will you be able to withstand the separation?"

I chuckled, and shook my head. "About that, I had a brilliant idea-"

"Familiars aren't allowed," Jean-Jacques said. "Also, the mirror wouldn't work on them. It needs a creature capable of thinking about a new form for it to work-animal intelligence just doesn't work that way."

I huffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "It means you don't know how smart my Raven is. He'd totally be able to use the mirror."

"I'll be waiting for an older version of yourself in the ballroom. If possible, I'll try to point you towards the correct lady, though in regards to your sister, I think you'll be able to recognize her pretty easily," with those words, and an imaginary -on my side- menacing written in purple hovering behind his shoulders, Jean-Jacques walked out.

Raven flew right into my arms, emitting a set of Kurk! Kurk! Craa! sounds that seemed awfully like insults towards Jean-Jacques' back. I rubbed my Raven's head, letting him free to fly out during the time I'd spent dancing, and then waited patiently until it was finally time to head downstairs. The students had formed a neat line, and as they began to enter slowly, I was pretty sure many would go as their parents, or uncles, or famous figures of history of which they had seen an image in a book.

There were many bright haired paladins of history, for example, that would live once more in image alone in such a ball.

Camille Du Tremelle was looking awfully determined, which didn't bode well. Josephine by her side, I knew this reeked of trouble. "You'll see Josephine, Lord Valliere and I are meant to be together-I'll dance with him, no matter what."

"Camille, are you sure it's wise?" Josephine whispered.

"You'll see-he won't refuse a friend's offer," Camille said quite firmly. "You remember to play your part-"

"But I don't want to go as a boy-" Josephine mumbled. "Can't I go as Henriette?"

Oi, if you have the time to memorize the name of my friends, why don't you just come join us when we speak? I swear, I'm not cutting you off-you can join us, really! In the end, it was my turn to enter the room hidden by twin curtains on both sides to prevent others from discovering our real identity. Headmaster Osmond was sadly in the guise of a young girl once more, but a stern looking man by his side was keeping track of his every movement. The man in question was someone I had never seen before, but it was clear it had to be someone from the teaching staff.

I stared at my reflection for a moment, and then nodded, closing my eyes and focusing on my new form.

Jean-Jacques, traitors will be punished. They will be punished most severely.

Come on then, the game is on.

Come find me, I, the master of stealth-field tactics.

Once I crossed past the curtain, there were barely any signs of recognition going on. I was, after all, one in a hundred.

I was the King of Tristain, Henry de Tristain, and like me more than a dozen other students had thought the same. Thus, as I smiled, I made a beeline for the closest girl I could find. "My darling, may I say it's wonderful to see such a sparkling young princess-" as I mimicked to perfection Anthoine's mannerisms, I merged into the crowd as just another silly king Henry. Real Anthoine, please forgive me. Should you find yourself slapped by Henriette tomorrow, I'll gladly keep my mouth quiet.

What. You didn't expect me to come to your aid now, did you?

Meanwhile, I could see professor Chevreuse look at the curtains with her eyes narrow as student after student filtered in. Oh, he was catching on, wasn't he?

Near the buffet, a healthy Cattleya was smiling and trying her hardest not to reveal her true age to quite the persistent adulators -it couldn't be anyone else but Louise. There were surprisingly quite a few queen Marianne, thus making it obvious that one of them had to be Henrietta, unless she had come as someone else. But there was just one blue haired woman standing in a corner, with a group of equally narrow eyed girls that screamed bodyguards even though they appeared as schoolgirls.

I could feel it, the shame of being a grown-up man having to use camouflage magic to appear as a young schoolgirl because you have to protect your charge at all costs.

Proud knights of the Parterre -whatever cardinal direction and flower you might belong to- I salute you.

I had myself two full glasses of red, unadulterated wine, and then proceeded to reach the balcony and dispel my camouflage, returning inside taking great care to stand by the walls. I grabbed two goblets filled with watered down wine as I went by, my skills second to none.

"Well," I said as I appeared right from behind the gaggle of schoolgirls, who honestly did half a step back from the surprise of seeing me appear from behind their tightly knit formation. Seriously guys, you might be feeling shame at being with a skirt, but at the very least do your best to look behind you. "You look like you could use a drink, my lady."

"Ah! But-" she blinked, and then looked at professor Chevreuse who, in turn, stared at me with a gaze that could pretty much murder the heavens. In answer, I simply smiled at him.

"You don't drink?" I replied quite carefully, "Oh well," I passed the twin goblets into the hands of two schoolgirls by her side. "Then, without a doubt, you wish to dance?" and as I extended a hand in her direction, making a half bow, she looked at professor Chevreuse one last time, who in turn nodded firmly as if to signal it was indeed I, troll extraordinaire.

"You did not even ask for my name, sir," the woman said, her blue hair in curls as she accepted the offered hand. "Nor did you present yourself. Don't you think this is quite rude?"

"Do women not love a mystery? A good one at that?" I replied, "Is the Sleipnir ball not about the mystery, the intrigue, the discovery of who truly hides behind the magic?" As we began to dance, my feet died. They died a bit at a time, but still, they died. The young woman was doing a sort of whack-the-mole thing with my feet. Thankfully, the shoes were quite reinforced just in case something like this happened. I must thank the tailor. Whoever the tailor, or leather worker is that made this shoes, you have my thanks.

"Maybe it's for the best...if you don't know who I am," the young woman was cringing. "I'm making a mess, am I?"

"No, I don't think so. Think of it this way," I hummed, "No one will judge you here tonight, I least of all," I continued. "So...don't worry about making mistakes, because they happen."

"Little Helene doesn't-" she bit her lips, "I mean, my sister Helene, she's younger but she doesn't make these mistakes."

"And?" I remarked as I raised her chin slightly, since she was looking downcast. "You are not your sister, my fair lady. You are your own person, and I am sure you have qualities and abilities that far surpass those of your younger sister," I smiled gently, "Just like mine is that of having keen insight, but I fail absolutely in my studies when compared to my older sister, and perhaps my twin sister too," I grinned. "We aren't perfect. We can only strive to be our very own best."

The young woman swallowed with a grimace, "Aren't those pretty words? But-when it comes to this sort of things, I still fail and people still judge me for failing."

"Then let them judge you as a terrible dancer," I answered honestly enough, "But does that make you a terrible person? Does that make you a terrible woman? Does that make you a terrible noble? There are nobles who can't dance, but I am sure they have their own spotlight elsewhere, be it as pianists, or artists-" I chuckled, "Personally, I wouldn't care if someone were or not capable of dancing. I'd rather care if they had an earnest and honest approach to life. If someone tries hard, but fails...at the very least he should be respected, because he tried."

"You really are a kind man," the young woman said with a giggle, "seems like I made the right choice in coming here. Now, I am sure this will come as a surprise to you, but in truth-" she smiled, "I am your betrothed!" and as she opened her arms wide, I blinked.

Right.

Uhm...

"What a pleasant surprise!" I said with my soul dying inside a little bit at a time as I spun her around once, making her giggle and attracting the attention of everyone else in the room at the same time.

"I knew you'd be surprised, but it isn't over-" and as she said that, she puffed her chest up in pride as she gestured to Cattleya with her open hand, "That is your sister-" my smile began to twitch as I saw a beautiful blond-haired man with impeccable teeth and glittering skin hold Cattleya's hands delicately, her face sheer crimson red.

Oh my. Oh my. Wait a moment.

"Anthoine," I snarled, "Get your hands off my sister!"

In answer, Anthoine -who had come as Gascon, apparently- made a triple backwards jump and knelt down, both hands clasped together. "Forgiveness!" he yelled. "I plead mercy in the name of the Founder!"

"I will ensure your screams are heard by the very heavens!" I snarled, only for a slender hand to stop me.

"Please, do not worry," a raven haired woman with quite the abundant qualities said. "I will take care of him," and with her wand out, she began to walk towards Anthoine, sulfur leaving the tip of her wand.

On one side, I now understood why Anthoine had aimed at Henriette, if Henriette's mother was anything to go by.

On the other side...run Anthoine, run. Whatever I might have done to you is nothing compared to what Henriette will do.

I, at least, as a fellow man, wouldn't have hit your family jewels.

"Shall we head for the refreshments, my dear?" I asked as I linked arms with the young blue haired woman that was definitely Isabella, if with a dozen years tackled on.

"Oh," Isabellla said, blinking. "Right! Of course," she added with a slight stammer.

As we went forth, there was a light skip in her step that I could hardly miss.

"B-Brother," Cattleya said. "I-well-it's me," she stammered out. "The princess'-" she looked around with a cringe filled expression, "I lost her."

"Louise," I sighed and shook my head, "I hope your wine is watered down," I pointed out. "Well, the princess of Tristain isn't my responsibility," I added, "It's Jean-Jacques' so...up to him," I remarked with twitching lips, offering a glass of watered wine to both Louise and Isabella as I watched professor Chevreuse look around for one amidst the many Queen Marianne. Poor man, if it weren't for how he had regularly burned my dreams to the ground, I might have felt pity for him.

But I didn't, because I was a horrible, horrible person deep inside.

This night was starting to look up.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-One

I danced with Louise, though in Cattleya's form, and nimbly ensured she would be in the trustworthy hands of André for the next dance. I was sure it was André because only he would dress up as a fully armored Templar. The only reason he didn't make any noise was because the illusion, while definitely well crafted, limited itself to the visual aspect, and the physical one was only tied to things like skin and simple clothes -metal wasn't included.

"You should not have to keep me company," Isabella said in a whisper as I stood by her side. "I'm enjoying the night, but...maybe you want to dance with someone who can actually dance?"

"I like keeping you company more than I like dancing," I said quite calmly. "Also, I have never been one for balls," I exhaled.

"Oh," Isabella said. "That makes two of us, then." She looked down at her hands clasped together on her lap, resting atop her dress. "This appearance of mine," she said. "It was my mother's."

"Ah," I said. "She was really beautiful."

"That's what everyone tells me," Isabella said. "She was graceful, dignified-the arranged marriage went through without a hitch, and even if my father was a bit troublesome, there isn't a single noble who doesn't regret her passing away." She clenched her hands. "I thought that maybe, if I took this form, I might inherit a bit more of her grace. I wanted to make a good impression."

"Well, in my eyes you did," I replied. "Would you rather head elsewhere?" I suggested.

"I would like to visit the academy," Isabella said suddenly. "I want to see where you study, and where you live. Certainly it's possible?"

"It should be. Technically the curfew is extended due to the ball, and while the doors are locked, they can easily be opened with a simple spell," I remarked. "So...would you like to visit the academy, my fair lady?"

Isabella giggled, "Will the spell of the mirror finish once I leave the room?" she asked as she linked arms with me, starting to follow my lead as we made our way to the exit.

"Not unless you wish it to," I replied. "I don't think it has a range, as much as a time limit. It's powerful magic, and normally it's kept within the Academy's vault for a reason."

"The Kingdom of Tristain truly is beloved by the Founder for having so many powerful artifacts within its borders," Isabella remarked as I pushed aside the separating curtains that would lead to the corridor outside.

"Oh, leaving already?" the man I had no inkling of whom he was asked, "Should I remove the spell?"

"No, we'd rather keep it," I answered with a smile. "I'll be showing this pretty lady around, professor. Her escort will accompany us," and as my eyes moved to the very quiet looking gaggle of schoolgirls that followed us, I exhaled, "Though..." I looked at Isabella next, "I think it would be best if they were allowed to return to their original forms."

"Of course," Isabella nodded. "Knights, resume your semblances," and as soon as she said that, the schoolgirls became tall and proud nobles with a lily motif on their chests.

"Yes, your grace!" they said in chorus, making me wince from the noise.

"Hush it," Isabella said next, "We're exploring, not barging in," and with that, she turned to beam me a smile which I awkwardly returned.

Thus, I showed her around the empty classrooms, the alchemy laboratories, the courtyards and the towers. The Void one was closed off with a bit more care, since it was off limits to students, I reckoned it was best to leave it be.

"And this concludes the Academy's guided visit," I said as I stopped in front of my room, "My room."

Isabella pushed it open without even bothering to ask permission, stepping inside and looking around with wonder. "Ah-so this is a lord's room-well, it's completely different from mine, and quite small. If you chose to study at Petite Troyes, you'd have bigger rooms all to yourself," as she said that though, she neared the sleeping Raven. "Is this your familiar?" she asked in a hushed whisper, her hands over her mouth as she realized she might wake him up otherwise. "So cool..." she mumbled. "It's a pretty big bird."

"It's a crow," I said as I stepped inside after all, the rest of the escort waiting outside but with the door open. "Though I called him Raven because, well, I liked the name."

Raven cawed softly in his sleep, and did not move.

"What's this?" Isabella asked next, stopping in front of my desk. "The hunchback of Notre-Lord?" she furrowed her brows, "Is it a story?"

"Of sorts," I acquiesced. "I write as a mean to stave off boredom," as soon as I said that though, I was already sure I had lost Isabella for the next minutes, if not half an hour. The pages were turned one after the other, as Isabella's eyes widened slightly.

By the time she reached the last page, she groaned, "Hey! How does it end?!" she turned to look at me, "The story's not finished, is it? The crowd's scared of this hunchback, but-but he's done nothing wrong, has he? He just wanted to have fun-"

"Well, I could tell you how it finishes, or perhaps one day I might give you the entire story for you to read," I replied as I neared the desk and neatly folded the papers back in order. "I used to tell stories to my twin sister all night. She's been sick since an early age, so...it was a way to spend time with her."

Isabella thoughtfully thought about it for a second, and then nodded. "I'll look forward to reading it whole," she said. "Also, I formally extend you an invitation to my tenth birthday party. It will be held in Gallia's capital, Lutece, in Grand Troyes-" she smiled, "You'll be my knight so, barring extremely unavoidable circumstances, you'll have to be present."

I smiled as genuinely as I could. "Of course, I will be delighted to be there."

"Then it's settled," she giggled, clapping her hands together. She then brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she yawned, "Oh my, it's so late," she rubbed her eyes. "Will you accompany me to my carriage?"

"Of course," I replied.

Thankfully, once on the carriage she left without further trouble. Hopefully, Louise had enjoyed the night. I'd ask André about it, and if he had done anything untoward, then I'd simply dig a tomb and let his crusade end up in a ditch.

"Help..." Anthoine's twitching from was a fuming mass of smoke and charred clothes. I stared at him, standing half-buried in the Vestri courtyard, and raised my wand with a sigh. "Thank you..." he croaked out as I levitated him closer to me, before shaking my head.

"Let's get you into the baths. The servants will deal with what remains of your broken body."

"Merciful...you really are...the merciful wind," Anthoine mumbled, his mouth releasing the smell of sulfur.

"The things I do for my friends," I grumbled.

Thus, carrying a half-charred Anthoine to get a bath, the night of the Sleipnir ball came to an end.

The next day, I'd start working on the Hunchback of Notre-Lord with more speed.

It wouldn't do to leave a fan hanging, after all.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-Two

Give a man one fish, and he'll eat one day. Teach a man how to fish, and he'll eat for a lifetime. Teach a man how to create dynamite, and he'll blow the world up trying to find new ways to use it. As my eyes glanced at the cookies that rested suspiciously on my usual desk, I could not help but feel the suspicion intensify. I poked at them with my wand, if nothing else to see if they'd actually explode when touched.

"Oh, cookies?" Anthoine asked, "Can I have one?"

"I am unsure whether they have been poisoned, imbued in love potion or otherwise are simply cookies," I pointed out. "Though as much of a charming thought as it is, I'll have to refuse them on the grounds of being betrothed."

"Tough luck," Anthoine nodded, before opening the package. "If they're poisoned, I'll just have you bring me to the infirmary. If they're imbued with a love potion, then do the same."

"You know love potions are illegal, right?" I pointed out. "Are you sure you want to test your luck?"

"Well, if they're not imbued with love potion, you can still claim they are and let me have some fun away from Henriette's possessive fiery passion," Anthoine said with his lips twitching upwards. The smell of sulfur easily reached my nostrils, and I smiled as I allowed my chin to rest on my open palm.

"Oh?" Henriette's voice was smooth, even as Anthoine paled. "Please, by all means, try one."

As he turned, Henriette simply grabbed one cookie and then thrust it straight through Anthoine's throat, making him choke on it. Then, she waited.

"M-My dear Henriette! I can explain," he said after a short interlude of swallowing. "You're the only one I love, but as a Gramont, you know, the thrill, the passion-"

"I'll burn it out of you," Henriette said with a smile. "Henry, do you mind if I take him with me for a bit?"

"Be my guest," I remarked with a lazy grin, much to Anthoine's concerned expression. The moment he was gone, I stared at the remaining biscuits. So, unless Anthoine had been lucky, there was neither poison nor love potion within them. As I remained alone with the sugary treats, my fingers twitched as I moved to grab one. There was no letter, thus I had no idea whom they belonged to. It could be the gift of a first year, or of a third year. In the filling classroom, of everyone present at the start of the class, Camille hadn't been there, and neither had Josephine.

Knowing the girl, she would have wanted first row seat to the spectacle.

Erring on the side of caution, I faked munching on one and instead palmed it, dropping it in my uniform's pocket the next second.

The mystery of the cookies did puzzle me to no end, but since no answer seemed forthcoming, I decided to leave it at the back of my mind. Perhaps someone had messed up and placed them on the wrong desk? Cookies were more of a gift for Anthoine rather than for me.

Could it be?

Could this be a Guiche-like double timing thing?

There was only one way to find out.

"Nevermore, quoth the raven," I said as Raven flew in through the open window, landing neatly in front of me. He cawed, and I looked at him thoughtfully. "Where would one go, if one wished to bake cookies and yet were a noble scion?" I asked my Raven, who in turn cawed and inclined his head to the side.

"The kitchens! The kitchens!" he cawed, happily receiving a biscuit as a treat.

"Excellent deduction, Raven-tson," I said with a nod, rubbing his head affectionately. After the class with professor Guiteau ended -crafting wind blades was different from crafting wind hammers, but both were different from crafting wind shields- I headed straight for the kitchens.

"It must be a lower ranked noble, a baronet's daughter perhaps?" I pointed out to my Raven. "Kitchen work isn't something they'd normally do. Though learning how to bake is considered refined depending on how it's done...and how many servants help you along the way," I hummed as I stepped into the world of servants, or better yet, into the realm of Marteau.

"Chef Marteau?" I asked as I stared up at the big, burly man who in turn looked down at me with deference, but yet being definitely not in love with the idea of having a noble in his kitchen.

"It's me, my lord," Marteau said. "May I help you?"

"Someone used the kitchen to bake cookies recently, judging by their firmness, either really early this morning, or late last night," I pointed out, pulling out the biscuit package. "I need to have a description of the girl in question. She forgot to add butter to them, and that's a grievous sin that needs immediate correction."

Marteau furrowed his brows, his eyes widening as I spoke. "She didn't put the butter in? But I was sure to check-" he bit his tongue, but it was too late.

"You don't have to worry," I said softly. "It's not my intention to make a big deal out of this. I merely wish to properly thank the lady for the gift, and then tell her that unfortunately, I am betrothed. I reckon it's the only fair thing I can do."

"Well, as far as a Gramont, you've-" I chuckled, and shook my head.

"Then the reason changes to telling her she placed the cookies on the wrong desk," I said. "I'm Valliere. Henry Philippe de la Valliere," I added with a smile. "So...the name or description of this fair lady?"

A third year by the name of Carolette, with auburn hair and two most convincing arguments to her qualities, wasn't that difficult to find. She was the daughter of an earl though, so my idea that she was a baronet's daughter was out. "What is it?" she asked, a hand on her hip as she looked at me, clearly trying to hide her nervousness at being called out by me in question.

"You placed these on the wrong desk," I said quite frankly, pulling the biscuits out. "Anthoine's desk is to my left, he's the third to last desk starting from the window-" she swatted the biscuits off my hand and on the ground.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she exclaimed hotly, "I wouldn't do anything of the sorts-"

I inclined my head to the side, "I am not accusing you of anything," I continued gently, looking at the crumpled biscuits on the floor. "Though that's quite the waste. Raven, well, have all the treats you want-" at my words, Raven flew off and landed neatly near the biscuits, starting to peck them with greed and pleasure.

The sorrowful look on Carolette's face was plain to see. "It is not in my interests to call you out, or tell you anything. I merely wished to inform you of the correct disposition of the desks," I said as I made a light bow, "I apologize if it made you feel uncomfortable."

"N-No, nothing of the sorts! Please don't bow," Carolette said, her cheeks reddening from shame as she bowed in turn. "I'm the one who should apologize-I just...I'm sorry," she said, a hand to her chest. "I should have known better."

"Being young and in love is nothing to recriminate about," I answered with a small smile. "Though Anthoine is betrothed, so...rather, I'm saying do as you wish, but be careful because Henriette's dragon doesn't spew as much fire as Henriette herself."

Carolette fidgeted, and then nodded as I took my leave.

"Oi, Raven, enough with the biscuits," I said as Raven gathered all the cookies it could inside the remains of the pouch and then flew towards me with said pouch in his beak. "If you get fat, I'll have to make you fly around the whole school until you slim down," I drawled, even as Raven emitted a guttural sound from his closed beak.

Humming to myself, I yawned and rubbed my eyes a bit. Perhaps I should catch a nap?

There were no afternoon lessons after all, and-

"Wait a minute," I blinked. "Wardes knows I'm allowed to leave only on Void Days. He knows nothing about the other days-" I stared at Raven, who in turn stared at me, his deep dark eyes twinkling as he understood implicitly my message.

My walking soon turned into a frenzied dash for the academy's horses.

Freedom, here I come!

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-Three

The smile on my lips grew a hundredfold when my prediction turned out to be correct. Wardes had no idea of the precise schedule of the school, and he couldn't patrol the roads every single instant of his life. He might have known I had an afternoon free as much as not, but he thought I wouldn't waste two hours of horse ride just to waste a single hour going around the capital before coming back due to the two hours of the trip back.

Unfortunately for him, I did seek out any tiny scrap of freedom I could obtain.

The bustling city was filled with people working, moving around, doing their hardest to make their own ends meet. Differently from the Void-Day scenario, the city was far more alive now, with the workers and clerks in the shops doing their best to sell their products, rather than just lazily stand around and watch people come and go from their shops without moving much of a finger.

My purse was held tightly around my neck, hidden within my clothes. It wouldn't do to have it stolen -though nobody sane of his mind would steal from a noble unless truly famished, I still did not want to make it easy for someone to steal from me.

I found a local press that was more than willing to do the job I'd commission them, and swore they'd make a book fitting for royalty out of the manuscript I brought them. I would still bring jewels for Isabella's birthday party, but I'd hand the book off in private at a later time.

My eyes moved now to my next target. The Charming Fairy Inn wasn't a brothel by a long shot, but it was the sort of establishment where you couldn't just enter willy-nilly and hope for the best. It was the sort of place where, at the very least, you should change the color of your hair with a hair-dye spell.

Bright green hair on my head -and it was sad to see it was such a normal color, truly- I stepped inside the inn and headed right for the counter, hopping on one of the bar stools with a bright smile on my face. "Oi, bartender," I said, "What's the best wine you've got? Without watering it down," I continued. Scarron's form was as always terrifying to behold. He pursed his full red-lipstick lips and made quite the girly exclamation of thinking it through.

"We have a Red Clarent, or a Saint Patron," he said. "Both are quite good."

"Uhm, which of the two has a mellower richer taste?" I remarked, "I want something to drink while mulling over my thoughts."

"Then, the Red Clarent it is," Scarron said. "Mi mademoiselle here will serve you!" he added with a giggle, to which I replied with a shrug of my shoulders as I accepted the glass of wine from his hands.

"Have you come in town seeking wines?" Scarron asked, to which I shook my head, taking long sips and exhaling in relief as the taste went through my tongue, before going down my throat.

"No, mostly been looking to have a bit of freedom for myself before going back to my obligations," I acquiesced. "I swear-if it's not one thing it's the other. One hour of freedom out of the whole week-but I shouldn't complain. I don't have to work every hour of the day," I added softly, "Still...it's like being in a cage," I grumbled, "The bars are gold, but it's still a cage."

"Oh my! I too felt like that," Scarron pointed at his hairy chest, "but then I realized I was lying to myself! Oh-nothing to it, I had to just sprout my wings like a fairy and fly-" as he said that, and made a pirouette, I giggled.

"You're a great man," I said with a nod. "I can approve of that courage, it mustn't have been easy."

"Oh no it wasn't, but for some things I-" he blinked, "My! Monsieur, you're making me talk when I shouldn't-it's not good." I chuckled again.

"Don't worry about it. I like to listen to people's stories," I admitted, "different lives, different things, different thoughts-no two people think the same, did you know that? So, I want to listen, and discover how they think and why," my smile was warm as I stared at the bottom of my glass. "But we have a different problem, bartender," I said most seriously, locking eyes with him. "I can see the bottom of my glass."

Quickly, Scarron refilled it with a giggle.

Half an hour later, I paid my due and waved the man dressed as a woman goodbye. It was funny seeing how there was no Jessica, but a beautiful looking woman with dark raven hair that was, without a doubt, Scarron's wife. Perhaps she stopped serving at the pub after Jessica took over? Or perhaps she died somewhere down the line. Still, as I walked out and into the streets, I knew I was in time to head back to the academy before dinner was served.

"Raven," I said as my familiar swooped down from the nearby lamppost, "anything to report?"

"Missed you! Missed you!" Raven cawed, making me d'aw deep inside.

"I missed you too!" I rubbed his head gently, heading back for my horse, and then for the trip back to the academy.

Nobody dared to ask where I had gone. For all they knew I had been horse riding in a sort of André-infused mania, or gone train my familiar to collect reagents. Whatever the reason, I was relatively sure nobody would speak of this to Wardes, and he would see no reason to come bother me on this particular afternoon for the weeks to come.

"Raven," I said gently that night, "Nothing tastes better than freedom, do you know that?" I remarked as I placed my quill upon the blank parchment. "So, my Raven...what shall we write of?"

"Freedom!" Raven said, flapping his wings. "Freedom!"

"Quoth the Raven," I nodded, "Uhm...Anastasia..." I tapped my chin. "Or perhaps, something else?" I blinked. "Of course," I nodded, "Rapunzel. My dear Rapunzel, locked in a tall tower with no means to escape, long golden hair brimming with magic-" I hummed, "And to satisfy the clergy, the one who saves her from the evil clutches of the dark witch is a proud and noble holy man of Brimir."

With the idea in my head now firmly planted, I once more began to write.

You can take away a man's freedom. You can restrict his movements. You can do everything in your power to keep him under your control.

But you can never steal his dreams. You can never take away his thoughts.

And as a writer, my dreams were an integral part of my being.

Come try to take them away, life. I'll rebuke you at each turn. I'll deny you. I'll refuse you. I'll choke you with my own hands if necessary.

The fundamental right of man is to be free! So come, come with your armies of do and do nots, come with your powerful orders and laws!

I fear you not, for in my heart, there is only-

"Porn!" Raven exclaimed, flapping his wings.

I cringed. "What did I say about repeating certain words?" I stared at him, and he looked back unashamedly uncaring.

"Fifty shades of Brimir!" Raven continued, "The Maid-Head!"

"Don't speak those titles out loud for the gods' sake!" I yelled back, raising a finger in his direction, "Don't you dare."

Raven laughed, and then hopped off his perch to land on my bed, nestling and pulling one side of the sheets to cover himself. "Bed! Late!"

"Later," I grumbled. "Sleep is for the weak."

Still, Raven did not hear me.

And to the sounds of a crow's soft snoring, and the scribbling of a quill upon parchment, the night dragged on.

It was a good night.

A good night indeed.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-Four

I stared at the landscape passing us by below us. The road to Lutece, the capital of Gallia, would take nearly a week by carriage, perhaps more. Thus, rather than have me waste weeks of my time -or perhaps afraid I'd take very opportunity along the road to drink, be merry and generally enjoy my freedom- for the trip to and back, a flying vessel was prepared. Freedom calmly took the sun on the deck of said ship, his tail swishing back and forth.

A complement of manticores were taking the sun too, their knights hanging around the lower decks preparing themselves for the moment they'd parade across the streets of Gallia. I didn't like the fact I had to parade together with them, but there wasn't much I could do to prevent it.

I missed Wardes, but he had his duties, and a squadron of manticore knights was definitely in the overkill territory.

"This is going to suck," I mumbled, my arms crossed over the edge of the flying vessel. "Isn't it?"

"Craa!" Raven cawed, flapping his wings by my side. "I love you!" he hopped a bit closer, rubbing his side against my shoulder as I smiled gently, patting his head with my left hand. With how things went, we'd be reaching the capital in less than two days, and any assassination attempt would have to, at the very least, require a cannon to blow the ship apart.

The form fitting ceremonial wear I had to put on was flawless. It was a silly thing, but at the court of Gallia, light blue and blue were colors reserved for royalty, and royalty alone during parties. While deep purple in dresses was such in Tristain. It was a matter of keeping to the class status, or something of the sorts. Thus, since I was going to marry into royalty, my clothes were dark blue. It was to indicate that while I wasn't royalty yet, one day I'd marry into it. Course, if the engagement fell through, then those clothes would have to be burned -they'd be destroyed anyway eventually, because Brimir saves us from reusing the same clothes at important ceremonies!

Fashion was important, and I hated fashion.

"Your grace," the leader of the squadron spoke, catching my attention. "They are about to serve supper," his face was clean shaven, his eyes a light hazel color just like his hair. The guy had presented himself a few hours prior, and would practically be my shadow for the entire trip. His name was kind of long too -perhaps he had a lot of family members that his parents cherished, but I did vaguely remember there was a Joseph-François in his long list. He was a Chevalier, a small noble with little to himself, but the chance to prove his worth and become someone higher in rank within the military.

"Lord De Damas," I said as a way of acknowledging his words. "What is in program for today's course?" I began to walk away from the ledge, the man following me three steps behind.

"I have been told it will be a service of Gallian cuisine to better accustom your grace to the foreign menu," he answered. "The chefs hope it will be to your grace's tastes."

"I am sure it will," I replied. I was not nicknamed The Sewer Systems that Works of Italy by my friends for no reason. As long as it wasn't poisonous, I'd eat it. Even if it was poisonous in large amounts, I'd still eat it. Hell, I'd eat it as long as it tasted good, but also if it tasted horrible if I was hungry.

Apparently, Gallian cuisine loved their fishes. They loved their fish, and they loved their venison. They loved their fish and their meat not mixed together in the same plate, but pretty much set as different dishes in the same time slot.

By all that was holy, I could get used to Gallian cuisine.

"My compliments to the chefs," I remarked as I stared at De Damas, the man having politely finished his own lunch. We were dining with the captain of the ship, who was a noble by himself. A certain Rouette, a fallen noble that had yet found employ as a ship captain -perhaps because he had found employment, he had fallen from grace. The fact was, as long as a noble didn't work, he was a noble.

The moment a noble had to work, he stopped being a noble and became a fallen noble. Nobles did not need to sweat, after all. Sweating was considered in bad taste.

"We will land at Lutece's main port tomorrow afternoon, your grace," Rouette said. "From there, the road is straight all the way to the Grand Troyes."

"Without a doubt, they'll have guards along the road to show the way," I replied. "I will remit to your experience on the matter of parades, Lord De Damas," I looked at the Chevalier, who in turn bowed his head lightly as a mean to say that he accepted.

"On the matter of the parade, your grace," Joseph-François said, "your manticore might not be used to it. It would be best if you used one of ours."

"Well," I sighed. "I suppose I should err on the side of caution. Though wouldn't that leave one of your knights on foot?"

"We brought a few more manticores," Joseph-François said. "One is meant as a gift to the crown of Gallia."

Both of my eyebrows rose at the same time. "Wasn't the gift of the royal family of Tristain a beautiful handcrafted crown?"

"The manticore comes as a gift from your family, your grace," Joseph-François said.

My family? More like, my mother. So, my mother had gifted the crown of Gallia -Isabella- a manticore. As if to say, this way, you can both go riding in the sky together. Well, really, as far as gifts went it was quite the interesting thing. I wasn't acting just as Isabella's betrothed though, but also as a sort of ambassador for the foreign crown. This basically meant that I was bringing the gifts of half of the Tristain nobility to the party, the royalty and pretty much would also need to spend the next day discussing certain key points of the alliance between our two countries.

They had given this highly dangerous, highly risky, utterly mad responsibility to me.

Well, myself and Joseph, to be more precise. And by Joseph, I didn't mean Joseph-François, but Joseph de Gallia.

Of course, I was pretty sure whatever we said to one another would be meaningless, and the true diplomats would deal with it behind locked doors elsewhere.

I was only there to put on a nice show, grin, smile for the crowd, make Isabella happy and the crown of Tristain happy, and hopefully ensure the foreign nobles of Gallia wouldn't be too angry or too biased against me by giving them a good old show of let me wash your hands so that you may wash mine. This, unfortunately, was probably going to be my life.

So...in the end...

I was going to be the head of a parade, drink half a barrel of wine behind closed doors with Joseph, and then go back home to resume my schooling.

All in all it wasn't a bad thing, all things considered.

"Nevermore! Nevermore quoth the raven!" Raven cawed from his perch behind me.

"Also, you will have to go without your familiar for the duration of the parade and the ball, your grace," Joseph-François said, and to that, my eyes widened in sheer grief.

This world truly was cruel beyond belief.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-Five

The streets of Lutece were wider than those of Tristain, and the crowd that gathered by the sides of said street was by no small feat small in number. The arrival of foreign nobility might not have warranted such a thing, but apparently the granddaughter of the King's coming of age was a big deal, and thus everything directly connected to her was a big deal too. This involved the arrival of her fiancé, who was a foreign noble and future prince-consort.

So, the people wanted nothing less than to see with their own eyes their future king, and who was I to say no to them? Well, I would have loved nothing less than to say no, but refusing was never on the table to begin with.

The manticore I rode on wasn't Freedom, but a peaceful old beast by the name of Carnage. Perhaps in his youth, the manticore had truly warranted the bloodthirsty name, but now it was simply a big beast good only for parades, and the occasional flight.

The crowd cheered on as soon as they saw me in their sights, their smiles perhaps tied to the fact that there would be celebrations ongoing in the streets, with stands of food offered kindly for free by the crown of Gallia. As they waved and yelled, Carnage did not as much as flinch. The rest of the manticore knights paraded behind me, shoulders tall and square, spines straight. Their chins were high with pride, and they held a rhythm to them that was uncannily military.

I held a smile on my face and waved slowly. There was even proper etiquette tied to how much waving a noble could do. Once every city block was considered appropriate. One single wave was fine. Happily cheering right and left wasn't.

The arrival at the palace of Grand Troyes was magnificent, the gardens in full bloom -magic had been used without a doubt, because all sorts of flowers had bloomed, even those that would normally not- and the knights of the parterre divided by their flowery motifs stood guard by their respective flower beds. The crowd that stretched as far as the eye could see was held back by a line of soldiers, the front of the palace lit with hundreds of floating tiny spheres of light, giving the impression of fireflies.

I dismounted once in front of a butler, two knights escorting said old man who was in charge of guiding me through the absolute madness of rooms that constituted the royal palace of Gallia. When compared to the wealth of Tristain, that of Gallia easily was tenfold, if not a hundredfold more magnificent. It was heralded as the strongest country, with the strongest of powers, comparable perhaps only to Germania.

"Your grace," the butler bowed as he showed me the way, one of the knights taking care of Carnage, the other directing the rest of the knights to where they could take their own mounts. De Damas was the only one allowed to follow me from the get go, his appearance giving off a sense of safety I hadn't quite felt before.

Isabella hadn't lied, nor exaggerated. The spacious entrance of the palace, the richly decorated walls and tapestries, the sumptuous carpets-everything had been polished to perfection in the palace. The windows glittered as if made of crystal and gold, the chandeliers were breathtakingly beautiful, and the paintings that hung from the walls had been the product of master painters.

I was shown a small -when compared to the rest of the rooms we had gone through- room, in which a pitcher filled with wine and two glasses rested upon a silk cloth. A few minutes later, and I was joined by the last person I had expected to meet.

King Robespierre the Third was older than I had last seen him, and it was pretty clear his iron will and demeanor were what was holding him up. In a second, I was already bowing down as much as possible -kneeling was reserved only to my king, and it would be so until the day I actually received a title from the Gallian royalty.

"Rise your head," the king's voice was raspy, but it came with so much dignity to it that it was impossible not to feel respect from the sheer tone it emanated. It wasn't a matter of mere wisdom that seeped through the voice. It was the voice of valor itself, it was the voice of someone in pain that yet made it appear as no big deal. It was the type of voice I was intimately familiar with, and painfully so too. "Before my granddaughter party begins, I wanted to meet with her betrothed in a more informal setting."

"Your royal highness, you honor me with your attention," I said as I lifted my head. His eyes moved to the pitcher, and I complied even without being told to.

"I won't be drinking," Robespierre said. "My bladder wouldn't hold it," he added with a chuckle. I blinked, and then chuckled in turn. This drastic change of tone made it clear he wasn't lying about wanting something more informal. "Do drink though-I suspect you won't be allowed that much during the party proper."

As he gestured with his hand, I saw the Ruby of the Earth glint on the back of his hand. The sign of Gallian royalty, the ring that marked someone as King of Gallia.

"Your royal highness will forgive me for being blunt," I said as I filled my glass, "but I suspect we have not met simply to discuss how unfair it is for the both of us to be denied wine at parties."

Robespierre laughed softly, and then nodded once. "I wanted to meet in private the son of the famous Heavy Wind, see for myself what there was of vicious in him. And I'm seeing nothing of the sort," he hummed thoughtfully, "Though perhaps, it's simply well hidden?"

"I suppose it is," I admitted. "My mother never does voice her opinion loudly, but I am sure she is proud of what I have become," I exhaled, "Or of what I will become, I suppose."

"Oh? You do not sound pleased about the arrangement," Robespierre remarked, as if he was simply commenting about the weather.

"It is not that I am not pleased," I answered, "It is that I would have liked to have achieved something of worth before marrying into the royalty. I do not think I will be allowed to hunt down monsters in the countryside any time soon as a husband of royalty now, would I?" I shook my head. "Isabella is an earnest kid, and I am sure she will be a great wife, but...will I be the one worthy of her?"

Robespierre snorted, and then looked at the darkening sky outside the window. "When I arranged the marriages between my sons and their respective wives, I received a lot of offers. My lady wife, she had a good eye for this sort of things. She knew who Joseph needed, and she knew who Charles wanted. They both married someone they might have not loved, but that they would come to like in short time without fault. No lady could ever be worthy of her sons' love, at least in her modest opinion, but she felt happy in leaving them in their care, and when she passed away, she passed away worrying about Joseph and the loss of his wife," here Robespierre snorted and shook his head, "My eldest was always the one that worried us the most."

He sighed. "What I wish to convey, young Valliere, is that it is not a matter of whether or not you are worthy of my granddaughter. It is whether you have what it takes to make sure I will not have to worry on my deathbed about her."

I blinked, and raised both eyebrows. "You won't have to worry about her, your royal Highness."

"Then tonight, do your best to give my grandchild everything she wants," Robespierre said. "Although the brothers help each other, those who would rather see Charles on the throne won't shy away from confrontation."

"Then, I will apologize now, your royal highness," I said calmly, swallowing the glass' contents with ease. "Because I am my mother's son, and I solve problems as the way of old dictates. So, know that I won't shy away from confrontation either. If you end up losing a few nobles tonight, then I am deeply regretful."

"Ah! The hot blood of youth," Robespierre laughed. "Most of them are only going to bark, but be careful, because some do have bite to their words. And you are the only son of your mother, are you not?"

"Unless my mother had a twin and hid him somewhere secret, I do not think so," I replied very calmly, moving my hand to the pitcher for another glass.

"Then be careful," Robespierre said. "Because you cannot afford enemies. That worthless son of mine already has made quite a few by himself."

"Nobles who refuse to follow the traditions as laid down by the Founder will by him be smitten," I replied, my eyes narrowing as I looked at the wine's surface. "My mother-she has this rule, the Rule of Steel. For her, obedience to the crown is absolute. If the Queen or the King ordered her to behead her children, she would do it. She wouldn't even flinch. That's my mother, the Heavy Wind. Absolute duty," perhaps I was laying it thickly, but it was important to make this clear.

I looked at Robespierre, my eyes as hard as possible, my fingers tightened only slightly more around the glass. "And I was taught that too. So, since I am to become a subject of the crown of Gallia, I will gladly follow the king, and the crown, until my dying breath. If Isabella will be my Queen, then I will do as she commands, no matter what she asks."

Robespierre nodded once, and then moved a hand towards the pitcher. "I'll have a glass, my bladder be damned. If I don't, I'm sure you'd manage to finish it all by yourself, young Valliere."

"Well, your royal highness, you did offer me the whole pitcher, so...of course I would. An order from the king is not something I would refuse."

Robespierre laughed even as he raised his glass, "To wine, young Valliere."

"And merry drinking companions, royal highness," I raised my own glass, and together we drank.

In Vino Veritas, the Latins would say.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-Six

The orchestra was playing a soft intro, the nobles gathered by the sides as I inwardly recalled the steps of the Branle, the Minuet, and the Gavotte. Dancing wasn't just a matter of having fun, no, it was a matter of displaying social status and showing one's skill. There was no pleasure in dancing by itself, and sometimes it could be considered a tortuous affair, rather than a pleasant way to spend the night.

The large ballroom slowly filled with nobles that I knew nothing of, De Damas standing quietly near the wall right behind me. It was clear by where I stood in the ballroom who I was, and I could hazard a guess on the social status of those who entered. Though I was soon joined by the Duke D'Orleans and his lady wife, we didn't share a word since they stood on the opposite side of the ballroom.

The greatness of the ballroom worked against me, because by the time it was completely filled with nobles, it became apparent I was to be left alone in my corner. Was this the good old make the new blood feel unwelcome thing? Ha! As if it would work. I loved being alone with my thoughts, so this suited me just fine! Robespierre was conspicuously absent, perhaps the cause being the weak bladder of his, and there was no sign of Joseph himself.

Yet, the ball would not begin without either of them, and thus we all waited.

An hour later, and I was pretty sure that unless Isabella was the direct cause of this lateness -no, actually, even if it were her- she would be in tears right right now. This was supposed to be her birthday party, wasn't it? And yet here we were, all standing in wait. The murmurs began to seep through the otherwise quiet assembly of nobles, and while I did catch some words related to wine, women, and shameless display, no one knew what was going on.

"Ahem," the Duke d'Orleans spoke abruptly, nipping in the bud the growing murmurs. "I am sure his royal highness is simply preparing something truly astonishing for us all to behold, and my brother's work, which is important to the well-being of the entire nation, takes away his sense of time. Please, let us patiently wait and have faith in them."

And like that, the murmurs of how despicable the crown prince Joseph was for making all of nobility wait and of how rude he was towards his very own daughter were replaced with giggles and chuckles and nods of happy nobles that instead remarked on how much of a kind and wise prince Charles was. If I was a good kindhearted person, I'd think prince Charles a young brother that truly cherished his older brother.

Unfortunately, I had been an older brother myself, to a moronic youngster too. There was one thing I knew and learned from sheer experience. The youngest one always desires to be treated as an equal to the oldest. It's a matter of pride, because either you are equally beloved, or you aren't, and unfortunately there is no such silly thing as equality in love. There is always a favorite son, be it because of similarities to the parent, to sharing certain interests, to desiring the same things-in the end, everyone has a favorite. This isn't to say you mistreat the others, no, far from that, but if you love a son one hundred and twenty, you'll love the other one hundred and twenty-one.

You can love as many people as you wish, but one will always be the one you love the most.

Karin, for example, utterly doted on all of us, but if Cattleya made her the doe eyes, she'd get her a chunk of the moon on the double. Pierre made the dowries for his daughters so big it was mindbogglingly how much money he had to spare, but out of all of his children, I was the only one who had been told where the key to the liquor cabinet was.

It was the little things, but those little things clearly showed just who was the favorite in the family.

If the children are all showered with love, then a single drop here or there more doesn't change their lives, but if that's not the case, then that single drop makes the difference of a lifetime.

Also, it helped that I did remember Charles' words on the day of his breakdown following the death of the king. He had admitted to having bribed royal retainers, faithful subjects -all things that Joseph instead hadn't done. As much as the Duchess D'Orleans might have said that it was to make Gallia great, it was obvious that anything that would make the Duke stand out as the better option would be accepted.

It was the curse of intelligence.

Aiding another because of receiving benefit from it, did it make the action wholeheartedly good, or was it merely selfish interest?

If one is stupid, and helps another out of the spur of the moment, then his action is wholeheartedly good. If one does so, and at the same time thinks about how he'll earn a benefit from it, be it in good karma, in heaven, or in an improvement of his social status...then, his action cannot be considered wholeheartedly good. Intelligence corrupts goodness, making it a mere do ut des.

Half an hour later, the king finally arrived and at his entrance, the orchestra began to play a stronger music. There was a roll of drums, and Isabella de Gallia descended the stairs with as much poise as was possible in her ten years old frame, her head held high, her eyes shining from tears not shed, because she was a strong young girl, and she beamed a honest smile at seeing me present in attendance, before letting it drop at the realization that her father wasn't present.

"Nobles of the court of Gallia," Robespierre spoke with his monarch voice, no emotion filtering through, "Let me present you with my granddaughter, Her royal highness, Isabella de Gallia, newly minted Duchess of Agincourt."

I blinked. Duchess of Augincourt? Where was Augincourt again? Somebody hand me a map of Gallia, please. I have no idea where that place is. No, seriously, what is she Duchess of? Why are you naming her a Duchess anyway? I get it that Joseph is Crown-Prince, and that's already a pretty big deal, but what does it mean? What are you implying with that? Are you saying you're gifting her enough land to warrant the title of Duchess to it?

Well, as far as gifts go, this one's pretty much surprising, grandfather-in-law.

"It's to the north of Gallia, near Germania's border," De Damas whispered from behind me. Great man, understanding I was in need of an explanation and providing it in hushed murmurs. "Close to the Valliere's lands, but separated by Germania and the black forest."

I nodded a bit, understanding dawning on me.

Well, it's a kind gesture, your royal highness.

You're a good king, aren't you?

I can even see it. Giving the crown to Joseph, rather than Charles, because if you took away the crown from him, then what would there ever remain to his name? The shame of being the eldest, and losing the crown to the youngest-such a shame would probably drive a normal person on the road to fratricide. Yet, Joseph wasn't like that, and your kindness perhaps was what set fire to Joseph's madness, and hatred.

Still, after the polite clapping from all of the nobles assembled, myself included, wind down, the ball began.

This time, when my hands gently held those of Isabella, my feet did not plead mercy.

She must have earnestly trained her very best to ensure she wouldn't make a fool out of herself during this particular dance, since she'd be opening it with me. In this circumstance, she was the leading star of the show, and I merely the accompanying extra. It suited me just fine, but even as the eyes were all on her, more than once they glanced straight at me next. I could feel it, the judgmental stares.

And even as I felt them, I completely ignored them.

I had danced half-naked atop a table in the name of friendship together with another madman. I had unashamedly made the worst, most embarrassing things just because I wanted to, or thought they were great ideas at the time. I took it, their judgment, their eyes, their stares...and then I aptly ignored them.

Because I couldn't care less.

Even if she was ten years old, and the height difference made dancing awkward, it was still done without a hitch. The rest of the nobles soon joined in, and once the ballroom's first dance was over with, the pause began, during which the orchestra would wind down before resuming at a later date with another dance.

"How did I do?" Isabella asked, her face beaming with the absolute certainty that there would only be praise for her.

"You've been wonderful," I answered with a smile of my own. "I hope you will like the gifts I brought for you."

Isabella grinned, "The jewels were pretty, but I cannot wait to read the continuation-I can't believe you finished it in time, with how big it is."

I smirked, "I am a peculiarly fast writer, my dear." I glanced at a nearing couple of nobles, and then quite sympathetically took just half a step back. The lead was due to Isabella on this night, thus, she'd get to speak with all of the nobles coming in our way first.

Which suited me just fine, because it meant I could just stay silent, activate my stealth field of absolute non-existence, and keenly extend my hearing of absolute perfection.

Come on then, nobles! Whisper and murmur all you life! My lifetime of Larp experience, my wholeheartedly beautiful Vampire the Requiem meta-knowledge has taught me one simple rule of court play, a fundamental rule that works flawlessly all the times.

Have no strong opinion, and agree with everyone on their thoughts.

Be water, do not show a hard front.

Smile, and remark on how wise the opponent is.

Hold to memory everything they say, mimic their posture if possible, and understand just what kind of person they are. Are they brutes, cunning ones, fake cunning ones, greedy guys, opportunistic types, thrill-seekers or something else? Do they love fox hunting, or prefer horse riding? Do they have sons, or daughters that study? How many children do they have? What are their main achievements?

Do not seek to know more about the person in front of you, but gladly piece together their bonds, and then look where they lead. How they treat others will tell you more about a person than how they talk to you.

"You've been quiet most of the night, Henry," Isabella said after the fourth ball of the night, and the fourth subsequent round of chatting had begun.

"I am merely taking in everything," I answered. "Trying to understand who is who, and what form of respect and address is due to them. Also, tonight is your night, so I wouldn't want to monopolize it."

"You don't have to worry about that," Isabella said with a giggle. "They're the ones who'll owe you respect one day, so-to you, they'll all be the same thing, inferior."

"Perhaps so," I acquiesced, "still...I prefer to bid my time tonight. Gallia does have a lot of nobles, far more than Tristain without a doubt, and the sooner I start memorizing them, the better."

Isabella nodded, "I know-maybe tomorrow we might go over them together?" as she asked that with an earnest expression, it was honestly the cutest thing I had ever seen. If I had less self-control, I'd be pinching her cheeks going wubbly-cutely-yes you cute little girl! but I had self-control the size of a Death Star, so there was no way I'd do that.

"My morning should be free," I said gently. Though I technically should have passed it sleeping to recover from the ordeal of the trip, and of the ball, I accepted the fact that if I wanted to sleep, I'd sleep on the ship during the trip back. "My afternoon will be spent with your father discussing about the future of the alliance between our two countries-"

Isabella wrinkled her nose, "You'll end up doing nothing but drinking if you follow my father's lead. Perhaps I should be there?" she asked next, hopefully.

"It does not depend on me, my dear," I said with a small smile. "Perhaps your father might agree to it if he were asked, but...I do not see him right now."

"He hates dancing," Isabella said. "That's why whenever there's a ball, he comes in later. He prefers making a fool of himself halfway through a party, rather than from the very start," the grip on my arm tightened slightly, "Though I hope he won't show himself at all tonight. It would be for the best."

My smile slowly turned down a bit, etching on the sad.

Isabella saw it, and turned her gaze away. She did not have the time to fidget, or remark about it because another couple of nobles soon came forth, and once more she began to politely exchange words with them.

Perhaps, as the next book, I could go with something tied to the bonds between a father and a daughter? Uhm...

If I changed the transformed character in the story of Brave I might have a chance at it.

On the other hand...

The Little Mermaid was safer.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Forty-Seven

Even though the party began to wind down, there still was not a single trace of Joseph. It didn't take a genius to understand he had simply decided not to come, or if he did want to, then whatever emergency there was it must have taken him most of the night, if not all of it. Still, this did nothing to improve Isabella's mood, though it didn't worsen it by much.

"Father's busy," she mumbled. "Taking care of the direct control territories, he's always busy. I understand that," her fingers were gripping onto my arm with enough strength to perhaps leave signs in butter, but definitely not strong enough to make me flinch. "But this sort of things happen once in a lifetime," she whispered. "He could have showed up."

"I'll ask him why tomorrow," I spoke in a whisper, smiling gently as I patted her fingers over my arm with my free hand.

"Your royal highness," another noble soon came close, smiling and bowing most profusely as he presented himself. "Berard d'Albret, lord of Vayres, most loyally at your service."

"Ah, we are pleased to meet with you, Lord d'Albret," Isabella spoke using the royal We, rather than because she was speaking for myself too. "I hope you are enjoying yourself tonight."

Lord D'Albret smiled, and nodded. "Indeed I am. This party is magnificent, as magnificent as your royal highness." My mind was already trying to pinpoint who'd come in next. We had finished the vast majority of nobles, and were now moving into the Chevalier, or Honorable nobles. Basically, those nobles that either didn't have a title because their parents were still alive, or were the younger brothers of acting nobility.

The further down one went, the more the compliments increased exponentially. By the time lord D'Albret bid us farewell, it was pretty clear that Isabella was in high spirits. He had been perhaps the fiftieth lord to compliment her, or maybe the sixtieth.

"I wouldn't put much trust in words of circumstance," I muttered, "no matter how true they sound, there's always a second purpose behind most of them."

"Oh?" Isabella said, grinning slightly. "Are you perhaps...jealous?"

I blinked. Jealousy hadn't actually touched my mind in the slightest, but seeing how Isabella was preening up at the thought, I could easily play the card she had so gently handed over. I awkwardly smiled, as if caught red-handed, and glanced away as shyly as possible, "Maybe so, my dear. Maybe so."

Isabella giggled, a gloved hand covering her mouth.

Finally, the party came to an end with Robespierre's own farewell, and to that, the rest of the nobles soon followed swiftly.

"I will see you tomorrow, my Henry," Isabella said with yet one more giggle as she stopped linking her arm to mine, making a prim curtsy that I answered to with a bow.

"I cannot wait, my dear Isabella," I answered in turn, smiling as I watched her go.

De Damas calmly arrived behind me, and as I turned to look at him, he had a smile on his lips that told me he was somewhat pleased about the entire situation. "I must admit I was worried I would have to intervene had you gone for the wine more often than not, your grace."

I rolled my eyes, and smiled. "As busy as I was, there was little opportunity to aim for the wine," I exhaled, my stomach inwardly grumbling. I hadn't even eaten at all during the entire night, and the buffet was still there, if mostly depleted. "Tell me you managed to save me some of those delicious looking shrimps?"

"No," De Damas said. "I was busy ensuring you did not come to harm, your grace," he added, "But I will see to it that the servants are notified to bring you dinner in your rooms."

"Thank you, lord De Damas," I said. "Do also ensure the rest of the manticore knights were properly fed. I suppose they'll have to guard my rooms during the night, so see to it that they've been properly treated."

"I will ensure it, your grace," De Damas said. "Shall we leave the ballroom then?"

To that, I nodded. "By the way," I remarked as we began to walk, "Did you hear anything worthy of notice?"

"A few ladies were remarking on how your dark hair made a poor impression with the dark blue of the clothes," De Damas said. "Nothing worth of offense, I hope."

"Not truly," I said in a soft whisper. "Not yet, anyway. Everyone has their fashion sense-and I did say I would look better in black and red, but alas...the tailors looked scandalized at my suggestions." I chuckled, and as a servant showed me to my rooms, I held back the desire to whistle.

The room was pretty much as big as an apartment -a really big apartment in some high-class city block.

A table was set a few minutes later, and as I finally ate dinner, I couldn't be more satisfied with the Gallian cuisine. It truly was something to write home about -and perhaps, I would. With a full stomach and a pleasant sense of satisfaction in my body, I finally dropped like a rock on my sumptuous bed, and rapidly fell asleep.

Being a trophy-husband might not be such a bad thing.

The next morning, I was woken up so early it made the thoughts of the night prior completely disappear, only to be replaced by an impending desire to kick my own self senselessly in the back of my head.

The beautiful gardens of the South Parterre were filled with blooming roses, the knights of the Southern Rose Parterre were a distinguished company, and on that peculiarly beautiful morning they took their duties as seriously as possible, standing proud and tall with a hand on their swordwands' handle, their eyes set firmly on ensuring no harm would befall their princess, and her betrothed.

I felt an immense sense of pity for those poor guys. Under the morning sun it wasn't perhaps that bad of a thing, but standing still for hours to no end -truly worthy of respect. Perhaps they had a spell to strengthen their trousers, so they could sit down on them without anyone noticing? It would be quite the cunning idea, I reckoned.

Isabella had changed from the attire of the night before with something perhaps simpler, and yet still oozing with richness and nobility. The breakfast set on the table was the sort of thing one could see at a buffet in a five stars hotel, and my mouth was already watering since the croissants weren't just emitting the most delightful of smells, but they emanated a type of warmth that was easily felt across the air.

"My Henry, please do sit," Isabella said with a smile, gesturing to the chair in front of her.

"I gladly obey, my dear," I answered in turn, taking the offered seat.

The fun fact was that the servants were the ones who cut the croissants, placed the jam within, and then served them on platters. The only action I had to do was actually remark what I'd like to eat aloud and then wait until said breakfast was placed in front of me.

However, there was something this fine morning that caught my attention. It was a beautiful, foreign and yet hauntingly familiar, smell. It came from a servant drawing near with a silver platter, upon which various pitchers stood. It was a smell that made my fingers twitch in eager desire to have some immediately.

For indeed, apparently among the many choices of breakfast, Gallian Royalty had the option of drinking coffee.

...

Sign me up. I'm yours now, and forevermore.

"This is a delicacy imported from beyond the east," Isabella said with a smile. "The merchant who brought it had to trek through the forgotten lands of demons and barbarians, past the stifling heat of the Sahara-and reach the wonders of Rub Al Khali, and then he had to make the same trip back," she fanned herself gently, "At his return, he presented this to a noble who in turn brought it to my grandfather's attention. It's the greatest novelty right now at court. They call it Coffi."

It's Coffee. This. Is. Coffee.

You are forgiven for your heresy, Isabella, on the grounds that this is indeed the first cup of properly brewed coffee I've had since my birth in this world.

Honestly, you would be forgiven anything in exchange for this.

"Quite amazing," I said as I was served a cup of it. As I lifted it to my lips, I swallowed the bitter, but robust mixture whole.

I felt at home.

"Usually it's drank with sugar and milk in it," Isabella said, her eyes slightly wide as I did not give any outward signs of having been claimed by its bitterness. "It's...surprisingly bitter otherwise."

"I like bitterness," I said gently. "And sourness," I continued. "The aftertaste is also pretty strong. I think I am in love of this," I said in a whisper, the cheesy pick-up line born of my Italian heritage coming up swiftly afterwards, "just like I am in love of you."

The expected result happened without a doubt, as Isabella's cheeks reddened and her fan began to speed up. "Oh my," Isabella said. "My Henry-this early in the morning such bold words-" she giggled, trying to hide her nervousness.

I simply smiled warmly back.

You can take Italy out of the Italian, but you can't take the flirting out of him.

"So, concerning the Gallian court, I am sure you must have noticed the great number of Baronets and non-landed nobles-" Isabella said, and suddenly all of my previous thoughts disappeared. This-I knew that tone. This was Eleonore's tone. This was Eleonore's tone whenever she was imparting knowledge I was supposed to memorize by heart within minutes.

This-she had baited me with coffee and delicacies, and now-now she was sharing her knowledge of the Gallian court expecting me to memorize it all.

This was-This was the devious baiting of an innocent and kindhearted young man!

And yet, I found myself listening on.

It was only fair, after all.