Given that she was the one who warned him that Josette would be killed, if he actually brought her back, chances are good that she already knows, or at least assumes, that Josette is alive.
Noblesse Oblige [Znt/SI]
Tabi
Expert Jissou Abuser
"I did wonder why Princess Charlotte was at my family estate and asked so. Apparently her name was Josette and that she had been adopted by my family... Truly, God smiles upon us today."
Science
If you're reading this, omae wa mo shindeiru.
- Location
- Killeen, TX
The threat to her life being Charles, her father, who would've had her executed. Now with Joseph as King, the fucks given about that particular bit of Gallian tradition are zero, and Henry can announce that Josette is alive without worrying that she's going to be executed for it.
Chaoswind
Lord of nonsense
- Location
- Latin America
Actually that tradition is STILL a problem because as twins either sister could impersonate the other almost flawlessly.
What happens if Charlotte is married off to Germania and Josette stays in Galia (or vice versa) either twin could impersonate the other and that is a huge no no...
Of course the solution to marry both twins to the same guy... Lewd...
What happens if Charlotte is married off to Germania and Josette stays in Galia (or vice versa) either twin could impersonate the other and that is a huge no no...
Of course the solution to marry both twins to the same guy... Lewd...
Cherico
Machine
Last edited:
Only with less surrendering and more back stabing..... Wait, they got enough of that already.well Gaulia is basically ZnT france.......
Chapter Eighty-Seven
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Eighty-Seven
The city of Aquileia smelled like the city of Venice. As my steps brought me down the docked Night Wind and onto the street proper, rows upon rows of my knights formed neatly arranged lines with their wands drawn and held close to their chests while atop their dragons. Behind them, musketeers did the same with their rifles, their officers standing slightly in front of their own troops. This neat parade-like display held up until the entrance to the massive villa where the king would reside until the coronation event took place.
At that point, the knights and the musketeers took their positions following the orders of their officers, and the villa soon became a fortress that, while perhaps not impenetrable, was still quite heavily under guard.
The Archbishop was waiting for us in the great meeting room, where a large round table had been prepared, with one chair strikingly better decorated than the others, and a second one only slightly better than the rest. The Pope was already sitting on his chair, and as he stood up, I could see a young man behind him amidst the holy Templars who escorted his Holiness -the moon-eyed Julio, with blond hair and eyes each of a different color.
"It is nice to finally meet with your grace," the Pope spoke. Using the Grace rather than the Royal Highness was a privilege reserved to the Pope, who was the shepherd of the flock of faith, and valued highly as a foreign king by himself. To everyone else, he was His Holiness. It was the only rank worth of him, the only title of address-he was the Pope, and thus, he was His Holiness.
Joseph sat down without much preambles, and then scoffed. "If you were looking forward to meeting with me, then you should have brought out the wine," he said airily. "Your Holiness lacks in wine."
The archbishop actually opened his mouth in disbelief, but Vittorio simply chuckled. "You are right, your grace," the Pope said. "We are lacking in refreshments. After such a long trip, like a thirsty pilgrim finally reaching the end of his pilgrimage-he should be welcomed with all honors."
He turned towards a nearby priest, who probably acted as the substitute for a servant around these parts, and the man complied, leaving and returning at a later moment with wine and small delicacies. Funnily enough, while the table was large, the only ones that had sat down were the Pope, the King and the Archbishop. The rest of us remained dutifully quiet, myself one step behind Joseph -as the commander in charge- and my officers two steps further behind me. Along the walls, knights remained at ease, or perhaps in religious awe.
None had been brought into my folds with charges of heresy last I remembered, and if they had, I hoped the officers had a bit of a brain behind their heads and decided not to put them in the same room as the Pope himself.
I admit, once Joseph had his fill with wine the proceedings went by smoothly. There was a rigorous etiquette that had to be followed, the high ranked nobility of Gallia would be arriving later by the end of the week -much to Joseph's pissed off expressions. He would have rather the Pope simply put the crown on his head and be done with it, but that wasn't how things worked apparently, and thus...
Thus it was our duty to defend the King, together with Romalia's chosen Templars.
"One week in this place," Joseph grumbled as we soon found ourselves left in peace by the Romalian pope and his servants and guards. Sitting at the table, being served food of Gallian cuisine by the servants brought along, were the King, myself, and the top officers of my army. "To be crowned after a week-it's just a crown on a head," he said with a huff. "I can do that myself if the Pope needs so much time."
"Things need to be perfect," I pointed out. "Crowning a king isn't a trifling matter for everyone else."
"The steps are numbered, the positions-the placement of important figures," Joseph snorted, "There are pictures-paintings even, so many kings! This entire palace is filled with nothing but paintings of kings and queens kneeling to get their crowns," he angrily tore into his steak, shaking his head all the while. "As if saying that even a king needs to kneel to someone else. If it were any other king, I wonder what they'd think. A king shows humility when he's crowned, and defers to the Pope? That sort of thing-who has the bigger army? Who has the bigger guns?"
"The bigger guns are of Gallia," I answered, "But for the bigger army...I'll have to say Romalia," I plainly spoke. "Because it's an army that crosses borders, composed of all of the faithful-you can have big guns, but without the hands to use them-then they're worthless."
Most of the officers at the table swallowed noisily their nervousness. Honestly, this talking back to the king thing that I was doing -it was unheard of. When the king ranted, people nodded and went with You are absolutely right, your royal highness. Answering back like this, it was left to the royal family itself. Even etiquette lessons remarked on the difference between prince-consort and actual king and on the degrees of respect deserved.
Yet there I was, answering back to the king pointedly.
"So Romalia has the bigger army of all of the kingdoms of Brimir?" Joseph said.
"I say it does," I answered quite honestly. "Perhaps Germania, if the reformation they are undergoing works out, might compare, but even then-at most half the population, or less of it."
"Being told that a barbaric country that gives nobility to those who pay is better than Gallia-you do not mince words," Joseph grumbled, "Their current emperor-he was so ruthless he went as far as imprison and let the other kings die of hunger, locking them up in a tower until they ate each other to death," he drank from his goblet, and sighed. "Taking troublesome foes and locking them up to die-barbaric, if done by Germania. Yet when done by other countries-it's just and faithful. What do you say about that, Henry?"
"People tend to justify things when brought under light if it concerns people they care for," I drawled back. "If I plant a rose, I do so because I wish to see the garden prettier. If I plant a poisonous plant, I can be doing it because the plant is pretty, but I might just as well be doing it because I wish to poison someone. If I'm beloved by the gardeners, they'll claim the plant beautiful-if I'm hated by them, they'll claim I wish to poison someone. In the end, I alone can know the true reason for planting that plant-also, if someone more loved than me comes along and says that what I planted is meant for poison-even though it wasn't my intention, even though the gardeners might not have thought about it-they'll change their minds."
"So, it's a matter of love?" Joseph said. "Those who are loved the most can do anything-and those who are loved the least must be careful of everything?"
"Love can be nurtured, or obtained, but it can just as easily be lost. The current Pope is a kind one, who builds orphanages, and takes care of the needs of the many. Most certainly, if he were offended by someone, people would go and say since our Pope is so kind, anyone he dislikes must not be a good person. On the other hand, if such a Pope weren't kind, if he were a problematic individual, or a monster-then they wouldn't think that," I chewed on the piece of roast thoughtfully. "However, with his aura of kindness as it is..."
"I wasn't suggesting we should do something about the Pope," Joseph said with a huff, "But it does annoy me not having Gallia be the first in something," he added. "To make the commoners love me more than they love the Pope-what should I do? Have you thought about it?"
"Let them live, let them be," I hummed. "When commoners aren't forced to do anything against their interests, they tend to like their current government. When they are forced to change their ways instead, they grow bitter with resentment. Honestly, the matter is a bit more complicated-but giving people the choice and watching them choose, that is what it should all be about if you want to be loved. You can't force something like that."
"What a troublesome situation," Joseph acquiesced.
I merely smiled awkwardly back at him, and that was the end of the discussion.
It wouldn't be the end of the problem, but if I had known what it meant-no, even if I had known what it meant...
I wouldn't have stopped him anyway.
Laissez faire, laisser passer.
The city of Aquileia smelled like the city of Venice. As my steps brought me down the docked Night Wind and onto the street proper, rows upon rows of my knights formed neatly arranged lines with their wands drawn and held close to their chests while atop their dragons. Behind them, musketeers did the same with their rifles, their officers standing slightly in front of their own troops. This neat parade-like display held up until the entrance to the massive villa where the king would reside until the coronation event took place.
At that point, the knights and the musketeers took their positions following the orders of their officers, and the villa soon became a fortress that, while perhaps not impenetrable, was still quite heavily under guard.
The Archbishop was waiting for us in the great meeting room, where a large round table had been prepared, with one chair strikingly better decorated than the others, and a second one only slightly better than the rest. The Pope was already sitting on his chair, and as he stood up, I could see a young man behind him amidst the holy Templars who escorted his Holiness -the moon-eyed Julio, with blond hair and eyes each of a different color.
"It is nice to finally meet with your grace," the Pope spoke. Using the Grace rather than the Royal Highness was a privilege reserved to the Pope, who was the shepherd of the flock of faith, and valued highly as a foreign king by himself. To everyone else, he was His Holiness. It was the only rank worth of him, the only title of address-he was the Pope, and thus, he was His Holiness.
Joseph sat down without much preambles, and then scoffed. "If you were looking forward to meeting with me, then you should have brought out the wine," he said airily. "Your Holiness lacks in wine."
The archbishop actually opened his mouth in disbelief, but Vittorio simply chuckled. "You are right, your grace," the Pope said. "We are lacking in refreshments. After such a long trip, like a thirsty pilgrim finally reaching the end of his pilgrimage-he should be welcomed with all honors."
He turned towards a nearby priest, who probably acted as the substitute for a servant around these parts, and the man complied, leaving and returning at a later moment with wine and small delicacies. Funnily enough, while the table was large, the only ones that had sat down were the Pope, the King and the Archbishop. The rest of us remained dutifully quiet, myself one step behind Joseph -as the commander in charge- and my officers two steps further behind me. Along the walls, knights remained at ease, or perhaps in religious awe.
None had been brought into my folds with charges of heresy last I remembered, and if they had, I hoped the officers had a bit of a brain behind their heads and decided not to put them in the same room as the Pope himself.
I admit, once Joseph had his fill with wine the proceedings went by smoothly. There was a rigorous etiquette that had to be followed, the high ranked nobility of Gallia would be arriving later by the end of the week -much to Joseph's pissed off expressions. He would have rather the Pope simply put the crown on his head and be done with it, but that wasn't how things worked apparently, and thus...
Thus it was our duty to defend the King, together with Romalia's chosen Templars.
"One week in this place," Joseph grumbled as we soon found ourselves left in peace by the Romalian pope and his servants and guards. Sitting at the table, being served food of Gallian cuisine by the servants brought along, were the King, myself, and the top officers of my army. "To be crowned after a week-it's just a crown on a head," he said with a huff. "I can do that myself if the Pope needs so much time."
"Things need to be perfect," I pointed out. "Crowning a king isn't a trifling matter for everyone else."
"The steps are numbered, the positions-the placement of important figures," Joseph snorted, "There are pictures-paintings even, so many kings! This entire palace is filled with nothing but paintings of kings and queens kneeling to get their crowns," he angrily tore into his steak, shaking his head all the while. "As if saying that even a king needs to kneel to someone else. If it were any other king, I wonder what they'd think. A king shows humility when he's crowned, and defers to the Pope? That sort of thing-who has the bigger army? Who has the bigger guns?"
"The bigger guns are of Gallia," I answered, "But for the bigger army...I'll have to say Romalia," I plainly spoke. "Because it's an army that crosses borders, composed of all of the faithful-you can have big guns, but without the hands to use them-then they're worthless."
Most of the officers at the table swallowed noisily their nervousness. Honestly, this talking back to the king thing that I was doing -it was unheard of. When the king ranted, people nodded and went with You are absolutely right, your royal highness. Answering back like this, it was left to the royal family itself. Even etiquette lessons remarked on the difference between prince-consort and actual king and on the degrees of respect deserved.
Yet there I was, answering back to the king pointedly.
"So Romalia has the bigger army of all of the kingdoms of Brimir?" Joseph said.
"I say it does," I answered quite honestly. "Perhaps Germania, if the reformation they are undergoing works out, might compare, but even then-at most half the population, or less of it."
"Being told that a barbaric country that gives nobility to those who pay is better than Gallia-you do not mince words," Joseph grumbled, "Their current emperor-he was so ruthless he went as far as imprison and let the other kings die of hunger, locking them up in a tower until they ate each other to death," he drank from his goblet, and sighed. "Taking troublesome foes and locking them up to die-barbaric, if done by Germania. Yet when done by other countries-it's just and faithful. What do you say about that, Henry?"
"People tend to justify things when brought under light if it concerns people they care for," I drawled back. "If I plant a rose, I do so because I wish to see the garden prettier. If I plant a poisonous plant, I can be doing it because the plant is pretty, but I might just as well be doing it because I wish to poison someone. If I'm beloved by the gardeners, they'll claim the plant beautiful-if I'm hated by them, they'll claim I wish to poison someone. In the end, I alone can know the true reason for planting that plant-also, if someone more loved than me comes along and says that what I planted is meant for poison-even though it wasn't my intention, even though the gardeners might not have thought about it-they'll change their minds."
"So, it's a matter of love?" Joseph said. "Those who are loved the most can do anything-and those who are loved the least must be careful of everything?"
"Love can be nurtured, or obtained, but it can just as easily be lost. The current Pope is a kind one, who builds orphanages, and takes care of the needs of the many. Most certainly, if he were offended by someone, people would go and say since our Pope is so kind, anyone he dislikes must not be a good person. On the other hand, if such a Pope weren't kind, if he were a problematic individual, or a monster-then they wouldn't think that," I chewed on the piece of roast thoughtfully. "However, with his aura of kindness as it is..."
"I wasn't suggesting we should do something about the Pope," Joseph said with a huff, "But it does annoy me not having Gallia be the first in something," he added. "To make the commoners love me more than they love the Pope-what should I do? Have you thought about it?"
"Let them live, let them be," I hummed. "When commoners aren't forced to do anything against their interests, they tend to like their current government. When they are forced to change their ways instead, they grow bitter with resentment. Honestly, the matter is a bit more complicated-but giving people the choice and watching them choose, that is what it should all be about if you want to be loved. You can't force something like that."
"What a troublesome situation," Joseph acquiesced.
I merely smiled awkwardly back at him, and that was the end of the discussion.
It wouldn't be the end of the problem, but if I had known what it meant-no, even if I had known what it meant...
I wouldn't have stopped him anyway.
Laissez faire, laisser passer.
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
Backlash177
Certifiably Insane
- Location
- Australia
Here is where everything goes to Hell.
Chargone
Invisable operator
- Location
- New Zealand
Constitutional monarchy?
The king gets to sit around and not do much, and the people love him for it...
Provided his parliament doesn't cock up horribly, at which point the commoners may become dissatisfied if he fails to rectify the situation. Still, means he doesn't have to do much most of the time.
The king gets to sit around and not do much, and the people love him for it...
Provided his parliament doesn't cock up horribly, at which point the commoners may become dissatisfied if he fails to rectify the situation. Still, means he doesn't have to do much most of the time.
Dragonskyt
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?
- Location
- Kiln of the First Flame
Google tells me this is the first step towards Capitalism.
- Location
- Lynn, MA
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Translating from french to english using the dubious google translate and it comes out to this "Leave it, give it away." Henry could be referencing Capitalism here, as Laissez Faire is an economic model, but it's more likely he could be saying that he is going to leave it alone and let someone else handle it, or in other words it's "Not my problem."
Chapter Eighty-Eight
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Eighty-Eight
The coronation ceremony saw nobles from all over Gallia attend. Mostly, it was nobles from the Southern side of Gallia, closest to the border with Romalia and to Aquileia itself. Even though a week had passed, I hadn't visited the city once. I didn't know the layout of the streets beyond those strictly necessary, and while I had given orders to map out a bit more of the city than necessary just in case there was a need to take nearby roads rather than the main ones, I still hadn't gotten to know the city itself.
It was Venice, with its canals, and with the water thought of as Holy. More than one member of my army had asked permission to bottle some of it up, and I had spent many hours massaging the bridge of my nose and allowing no more than a flask of it per soldier -we were already tight with the space aboard, holy flasks? If they had been Holy Hand Grenades perhaps, but...
"The rabbit," I grumbled. "I want a killer rabbit."
"Your grace?" Officer Roderick had both eyebrows raised in a querying gesture. The man was in his late sixties, a fallen noble from Gallia that had thought his savings would suffice to last him a lifetime, and thus had sold his every belonging when he had realized that no, it wouldn't have. He had no family left, no sons, and his noble title had already been sent to the wolves. Basically put, he was my logistic officer rather than a fighter, and I liked him just like that.
Logistics, the number one reason an army works or dies horribly with flip-flops in the middle of Russia.
"Roderick, I want a killer rabbit," I said as I looked at the thick tome in front of my eyes. "A fluffy bunny, which however has sharp razor teeth and aims for the neck."
"Your grace is not a good comedian," Roderick spoke crisply, and I sighed. He was right, but still-the numbers were in order, as they should be, and I was glad the treasury of Gallia would offset the costs of this operation. Moving the ship, the supplies-everything else...it was truly a hefty price.
"The coronation ceremony will take place tomorrow," I said. "Are the preparations complete? Everyone knows their roles?"
"They do," Roderick said with a small bow. "The cathedral of Saint Lutia will be the safest place in all of Halkeginia tomorrow."
It was my hope too.
The ceremony itself was majestic, the figure of Joseph as he stepped into the cathedral itself quite striking to the gathered nobility. Even though he was renowned as the foolish prince, even though he was known to be mad, within this place of holy sanctity, such dark thoughts and whispers were ruthlessly squashed. While the King marched to the front, to the altar where the Pope waited, I looked on from the closest bench of the cathedral to the altar itself, next to me a Duke that oversaw the entirety of the Fire Dragon mountains, his vassals standing in various rows behind him depending on their worth.
We did not exchange words, mostly because the ceremony kept us all quiet as the organ music rose to the top of the cathedral and bounced off, the chorus of young priests cherubic in nature, even as the holy verses finished with the arrival of the king in front of the Pope.
Once there, King Joseph knelt. The reciting of the oaths of the king also went by without a hitch, even though I trembled for a split second when the Pope said the part concerning being a faithful follower of Brimir and his laws, mostly in case Joseph decided to play a stunt of his, but he didn't.
Thus it was with a newly minted king that the Night Wind returned to the royal palace of Gallia.
The Pope hadn't said a word about the Void situation, or if he had, he had spoken to Joseph in private. The Windalfr, thankfully, hadn't a Raven to interrogate -since it would have been folly to bring my animal familiar along- and I hadn't met with him, nor had the young man in question expressed interest.
The moment the king returned to Lutece, a great parade, and great festivities, followed for two weeks.
Yet, in all of this glory and party-making, one figure was conspicuously absent.
The Duke D'Orleans wasn't there, and neither was his family.
"To not show his face-such an affront," the nobles muttered. "His majesty should do something about his troublesome brother."
Such rumors began to circulate, but Joseph didn't bother with them. Why would he? He was touching the sky with his fingers, having won over his brother on all the line, and yet even as he did that, I faced the greatest trial of them all.
Planning the reunion between Josette and her family-it wouldn't be easy.
"So," I spoke, "My idea was to have her found near the village where we found the bones-have her say she escaped and survived by herself-"
"Denied," Joseph answered, the bottle of wine in front of him half-empty. "She is how old again? To survive by herself, having been sheltered by a monastery and without a wand-impossible."
We stood within his office, alone and without servants. The silencing spell I had put on the doors and windows muffled the noise within, so even if we yelled at one another, nobody outside this room would hear.
I tapped my chin, "Have her found without memories? Though it might be thought of as impossible-if she keeps the lie up, then-"
"A child, keeping a lie up convincingly for the rest of her life? One misstep, and it would be over," Joseph drawled. "Just hand her over. Say nothing about how you found her, neither the truth nor a lie. They'll think you wanted me as king, and worked towards that goal. Your name, the Vicious Wind-it doesn't have to be just for show. Brother will hate you, but in court right now, brother's power is practically zero. He might challenge you to a duel, but just get yourself a champion. He'll die in your place and everything will be done with," Joseph shrugged. "His honor will be satisfied and yours tarnished, but since you're just a prince-consort, it doesn't matter."
He thoughtfully looked at the bottle. "Though if your champion wins the duel -I don't think so, but miracles can happen- I don't know. Killing my brother wouldn't make me happy, but at the same time-taking away their honor would be bad. So...choose someone to die for you during the duel and reward their family well. One or two unlanded nobles would gladly do so if it meant their daughters might have a chance at a better life with a sizable dowry-"
"That's...cruel," I muttered.
"Kidnapping a child and feigning her death to her family was not?" Joseph drawled.
"They left her there. They renounced their rights as parents the day they did that. So, in their stead, I took it upon myself to make that child happy," I answered in turn.
"How you even found her-" Joseph mumbled, "perhaps it takes a twin to recognize another?" he remarked.
"The history of having twins is common within the Gallian family," I said nonchalantly. "I admit, perhaps my thoughts weren't that pure when I investigated, but I told myself...why not? If I find nothing, then it's fine, and if I find something, then let's see what it is."
"As the King, I should know all of the details," Joseph drawled. "How you found out, whom you asked-how much you paid."
"I would be a poor taskmaster if I revealed the names of my contacts," I replied. "You do not tell me yours, and I do not tell you mine."
Joseph shrugged, and swallowed the remaining half of his wine bottle. "Fair's fair I guess," he grumbled. "We all have our secrets," he added. He smiled as he showed off the signet ring of the Gallian family -the Earth Ruby, "This was father's. Isn't it a pretty jewel? I found it among his stuff once I stepped into his office. I remember seeing it around his hand and thinking to myself, such a pretty thing, I want it. Back then, I still gave value to such things." He calmly removed it, and threw it in my direction. I widened my eyes as I grabbed it.
"Go to Charles with that ring on your finger and Josette," he said, "Tell him I ordered you to do that," he continued. "I, the mad king, laughed and cheered when I found out everything he had hidden from me. Tell him his desperation, his sadness, his grief, they were so much fun for me to see that I truly made a cruel joke, just like his polite and flawless facade was the joke he played on me," he grabbed a second bottle, and easily uncorked it with his hands. "Tell him that. Know though that you have a bleeding soft heart," Joseph grumbled, "Once, I would have reckoned it similar to Charles', but we both know his was fake so..."
His lips twitched in a small smile, "Are you playing a joke at my expenses too?"
I shook my head slowly, looking at the ring now resting between my fingers. "I would never laugh at the foolishness of a fool. I would pity him," I admitted as much. "And try to help him out, because...if I have the power to do so, then I will do so. Noblesse Oblige." I placed the ring on the table and stood up. "I will assume responsibility for my actions, because that is how I have been grown up."
"I see, I see," Joseph nodded. "Then give that ring to Isabella. The mere sight of it makes me remember unpleasant things nowadays," he waved a hand in dismissal, even as he drank half of the second bottle with ease. "Tell her that with it, she speaks as if she were me. This way, I'll burden myself less with stuff I don't care about."
I hesitated slightly, and then grabbed the ring with my index and thumb.
"An apology to her would work better with words," I pointed out.
"And make a fool of myself? As a royal-we are taught to never apologize, even when we are wrong, we are always right," Joseph grumbled.
"And?" I drawled. "You are the king now. It's up to you what you wish to teach to those that will come next, not to your ancestors. You make your own laws and rules now, Joseph-within the limits of decency, please, but otherwise...if you want to apologize to your daughter, then who but you can actually give you permission to do so?"
I placed the ring on the table once more. "Give it to her by yourself, Joseph. Tell her you honestly trust her with it, because that's the truth. King or not, you are still her father, and your words, both good or bad, mean the world to her."
Joseph glanced up at me with the remains of his second bottle drained. "Sometimes, when I hear you talk, it's like I'm hearing an old man," he said. "Whatever your parents taught you, it was definitely better than what mine taught me."
I smiled, and then bowed to leave. "I'll tell Isabella you wish to speak to her, and I'll convince her to come and listen."
I opened the doors, and stepped out as the servants filtered back inside, and so too did the guards.
It was unfortunate that the profession of the psychiatrist didn't exist in Halkeginia -then again, it apparently didn't exist in a lot of anime realities.
How many problems would otherwise be solved, with simply a heartfelt talk?
Truly...how many?
The coronation ceremony saw nobles from all over Gallia attend. Mostly, it was nobles from the Southern side of Gallia, closest to the border with Romalia and to Aquileia itself. Even though a week had passed, I hadn't visited the city once. I didn't know the layout of the streets beyond those strictly necessary, and while I had given orders to map out a bit more of the city than necessary just in case there was a need to take nearby roads rather than the main ones, I still hadn't gotten to know the city itself.
It was Venice, with its canals, and with the water thought of as Holy. More than one member of my army had asked permission to bottle some of it up, and I had spent many hours massaging the bridge of my nose and allowing no more than a flask of it per soldier -we were already tight with the space aboard, holy flasks? If they had been Holy Hand Grenades perhaps, but...
"The rabbit," I grumbled. "I want a killer rabbit."
"Your grace?" Officer Roderick had both eyebrows raised in a querying gesture. The man was in his late sixties, a fallen noble from Gallia that had thought his savings would suffice to last him a lifetime, and thus had sold his every belonging when he had realized that no, it wouldn't have. He had no family left, no sons, and his noble title had already been sent to the wolves. Basically put, he was my logistic officer rather than a fighter, and I liked him just like that.
Logistics, the number one reason an army works or dies horribly with flip-flops in the middle of Russia.
"Roderick, I want a killer rabbit," I said as I looked at the thick tome in front of my eyes. "A fluffy bunny, which however has sharp razor teeth and aims for the neck."
"Your grace is not a good comedian," Roderick spoke crisply, and I sighed. He was right, but still-the numbers were in order, as they should be, and I was glad the treasury of Gallia would offset the costs of this operation. Moving the ship, the supplies-everything else...it was truly a hefty price.
"The coronation ceremony will take place tomorrow," I said. "Are the preparations complete? Everyone knows their roles?"
"They do," Roderick said with a small bow. "The cathedral of Saint Lutia will be the safest place in all of Halkeginia tomorrow."
It was my hope too.
The ceremony itself was majestic, the figure of Joseph as he stepped into the cathedral itself quite striking to the gathered nobility. Even though he was renowned as the foolish prince, even though he was known to be mad, within this place of holy sanctity, such dark thoughts and whispers were ruthlessly squashed. While the King marched to the front, to the altar where the Pope waited, I looked on from the closest bench of the cathedral to the altar itself, next to me a Duke that oversaw the entirety of the Fire Dragon mountains, his vassals standing in various rows behind him depending on their worth.
We did not exchange words, mostly because the ceremony kept us all quiet as the organ music rose to the top of the cathedral and bounced off, the chorus of young priests cherubic in nature, even as the holy verses finished with the arrival of the king in front of the Pope.
Once there, King Joseph knelt. The reciting of the oaths of the king also went by without a hitch, even though I trembled for a split second when the Pope said the part concerning being a faithful follower of Brimir and his laws, mostly in case Joseph decided to play a stunt of his, but he didn't.
Thus it was with a newly minted king that the Night Wind returned to the royal palace of Gallia.
The Pope hadn't said a word about the Void situation, or if he had, he had spoken to Joseph in private. The Windalfr, thankfully, hadn't a Raven to interrogate -since it would have been folly to bring my animal familiar along- and I hadn't met with him, nor had the young man in question expressed interest.
The moment the king returned to Lutece, a great parade, and great festivities, followed for two weeks.
Yet, in all of this glory and party-making, one figure was conspicuously absent.
The Duke D'Orleans wasn't there, and neither was his family.
"To not show his face-such an affront," the nobles muttered. "His majesty should do something about his troublesome brother."
Such rumors began to circulate, but Joseph didn't bother with them. Why would he? He was touching the sky with his fingers, having won over his brother on all the line, and yet even as he did that, I faced the greatest trial of them all.
Planning the reunion between Josette and her family-it wouldn't be easy.
"So," I spoke, "My idea was to have her found near the village where we found the bones-have her say she escaped and survived by herself-"
"Denied," Joseph answered, the bottle of wine in front of him half-empty. "She is how old again? To survive by herself, having been sheltered by a monastery and without a wand-impossible."
We stood within his office, alone and without servants. The silencing spell I had put on the doors and windows muffled the noise within, so even if we yelled at one another, nobody outside this room would hear.
I tapped my chin, "Have her found without memories? Though it might be thought of as impossible-if she keeps the lie up, then-"
"A child, keeping a lie up convincingly for the rest of her life? One misstep, and it would be over," Joseph drawled. "Just hand her over. Say nothing about how you found her, neither the truth nor a lie. They'll think you wanted me as king, and worked towards that goal. Your name, the Vicious Wind-it doesn't have to be just for show. Brother will hate you, but in court right now, brother's power is practically zero. He might challenge you to a duel, but just get yourself a champion. He'll die in your place and everything will be done with," Joseph shrugged. "His honor will be satisfied and yours tarnished, but since you're just a prince-consort, it doesn't matter."
He thoughtfully looked at the bottle. "Though if your champion wins the duel -I don't think so, but miracles can happen- I don't know. Killing my brother wouldn't make me happy, but at the same time-taking away their honor would be bad. So...choose someone to die for you during the duel and reward their family well. One or two unlanded nobles would gladly do so if it meant their daughters might have a chance at a better life with a sizable dowry-"
"That's...cruel," I muttered.
"Kidnapping a child and feigning her death to her family was not?" Joseph drawled.
"They left her there. They renounced their rights as parents the day they did that. So, in their stead, I took it upon myself to make that child happy," I answered in turn.
"How you even found her-" Joseph mumbled, "perhaps it takes a twin to recognize another?" he remarked.
"The history of having twins is common within the Gallian family," I said nonchalantly. "I admit, perhaps my thoughts weren't that pure when I investigated, but I told myself...why not? If I find nothing, then it's fine, and if I find something, then let's see what it is."
"As the King, I should know all of the details," Joseph drawled. "How you found out, whom you asked-how much you paid."
"I would be a poor taskmaster if I revealed the names of my contacts," I replied. "You do not tell me yours, and I do not tell you mine."
Joseph shrugged, and swallowed the remaining half of his wine bottle. "Fair's fair I guess," he grumbled. "We all have our secrets," he added. He smiled as he showed off the signet ring of the Gallian family -the Earth Ruby, "This was father's. Isn't it a pretty jewel? I found it among his stuff once I stepped into his office. I remember seeing it around his hand and thinking to myself, such a pretty thing, I want it. Back then, I still gave value to such things." He calmly removed it, and threw it in my direction. I widened my eyes as I grabbed it.
"Go to Charles with that ring on your finger and Josette," he said, "Tell him I ordered you to do that," he continued. "I, the mad king, laughed and cheered when I found out everything he had hidden from me. Tell him his desperation, his sadness, his grief, they were so much fun for me to see that I truly made a cruel joke, just like his polite and flawless facade was the joke he played on me," he grabbed a second bottle, and easily uncorked it with his hands. "Tell him that. Know though that you have a bleeding soft heart," Joseph grumbled, "Once, I would have reckoned it similar to Charles', but we both know his was fake so..."
His lips twitched in a small smile, "Are you playing a joke at my expenses too?"
I shook my head slowly, looking at the ring now resting between my fingers. "I would never laugh at the foolishness of a fool. I would pity him," I admitted as much. "And try to help him out, because...if I have the power to do so, then I will do so. Noblesse Oblige." I placed the ring on the table and stood up. "I will assume responsibility for my actions, because that is how I have been grown up."
"I see, I see," Joseph nodded. "Then give that ring to Isabella. The mere sight of it makes me remember unpleasant things nowadays," he waved a hand in dismissal, even as he drank half of the second bottle with ease. "Tell her that with it, she speaks as if she were me. This way, I'll burden myself less with stuff I don't care about."
I hesitated slightly, and then grabbed the ring with my index and thumb.
"An apology to her would work better with words," I pointed out.
"And make a fool of myself? As a royal-we are taught to never apologize, even when we are wrong, we are always right," Joseph grumbled.
"And?" I drawled. "You are the king now. It's up to you what you wish to teach to those that will come next, not to your ancestors. You make your own laws and rules now, Joseph-within the limits of decency, please, but otherwise...if you want to apologize to your daughter, then who but you can actually give you permission to do so?"
I placed the ring on the table once more. "Give it to her by yourself, Joseph. Tell her you honestly trust her with it, because that's the truth. King or not, you are still her father, and your words, both good or bad, mean the world to her."
Joseph glanced up at me with the remains of his second bottle drained. "Sometimes, when I hear you talk, it's like I'm hearing an old man," he said. "Whatever your parents taught you, it was definitely better than what mine taught me."
I smiled, and then bowed to leave. "I'll tell Isabella you wish to speak to her, and I'll convince her to come and listen."
I opened the doors, and stepped out as the servants filtered back inside, and so too did the guards.
It was unfortunate that the profession of the psychiatrist didn't exist in Halkeginia -then again, it apparently didn't exist in a lot of anime realities.
How many problems would otherwise be solved, with simply a heartfelt talk?
Truly...how many?
Dragonskyt
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?
- Location
- Kiln of the First Flame
That´s why anime got fists.
Punching faces is the same as punching problems.
I´ll destroy that Illusion of yours!
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
Googling the phrase gets me:
"Laissez faire et laissez passer" ('Let do and let pass').
He demonstrated a significant math failure and so you made him your logistics officer. Quite odd given Henry's literal next thought was:
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The way I read it, he simply lived longer than anticipated.
- Pronouns
- she/her
And if a campaign were to last longer than expected?
Jackercracks
In a British accent
- Location
- England
It's more fitting than it seems actually, since the phrase comes from France (basically Gallia) at around the same time period that ZnT is riffing off of. And it is also an accurate summation of the advice that he just gave to Joseph. Basically: don't interfere with commoners and trade and all that stuff too much, just let it be.
Laissez-faire - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Yeah, that twigged me oddly as well.