Noblesse Oblige [Znt/SI]
Gamerteen13
Wide-eyed Newbie
From what I've gathered, there might be a Soviet nuclear sub in the area.
PseudoSim
Intentionally Obfuscating
- Location
- Beating my muse with a bat for being a pain
Yup. A whole soviet nuclear(reactor removed) sub of them.
- Location
- The United States
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Probably anywhere from 12-80 warheads depending on sub and configuration.
- Location
- Mountains and rivers
Italian riajuus should just go die.
Haha wow, abandoned the thread when people calmed their tits. Is this a curse? Am I Seigi no Mikata: Online Edition?
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floppy_seal99
D-O-G-A-R-S DOGARS!
- Location
- snooping as usual
Italian riajuus should just go die.
Haha wow, abandoned the thread when people calmed their tits. Is this a curse? Am I Seigi no Mikata: Online Edition?
Gas the Elves Race War Now
DEUS VULT you pointy untermensch!
We will retake ersatz animu Jerusalem for humanity!
/jk but HFY, tho
- Location
- Mountains and rivers
pointy-eared üntermensch!
(Please don't spoil me while quoting, I'm on page 100. Better safe than sorry.)
globalwarmth
ruining the weather.
- Location
- Polar ice caps
Now that I think of it, alchemist are a pretty powerful cheat.
You would not be able to alchemy copy a detonation lens nuclear device but you could conceivably do a simple ballistic detonation nuke like little boy.
You would not be able to alchemy copy a detonation lens nuclear device but you could conceivably do a simple ballistic detonation nuke like little boy.
Tomio
Designated croisant
How does fire turn people into wooden poles?
Rareitor
Aspiring K0mput0rmayun
Magic, duh
Nah, it's just burning them until they sticks of charcoal and then sculpting said charcoal into miniature stakes...
Trusty_Chester
That One Guy
- Location
- Texas
Nah, it's just burning them until they sticks of charcoal and then sculpting said charcoal into miniature stakes...
Wow, violence really is the answer!
Of course. After all if violence hasn't solved the problems that vex you then you simply have not used enough.
Trusty_Chester
That One Guy
- Location
- Texas
By Gwyn's firey beard, its Souls Art Online all over again. Just minus user insanity in the story.
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PseudoSim
Intentionally Obfuscating
- Location
- Beating my muse with a bat for being a pain
Something just occurred to me. Does Henry have a plan C, and if so does it involve taking the Windland's and whatever other ships he can get a hold of and just leaving Halk during an eclipse? Earth ho! From Shades other snips, the zombie one in particular, I firmly believe that him meeting his brother again would be a most entertaining event.
@shadenight123 So uh... any chance of this happening?
@shadenight123 So uh... any chance of this happening?
"Pierre! What is best in life?"
"To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you and hear the lamentations of their women!"
Anna: "Oh god there's two of them."
PseudoSim
Intentionally Obfuscating
- Location
- Beating my muse with a bat for being a pain
Pierre: "And don't forget shanking bitches!"
Henry: (Sniffs. Wipes tear)"Oh my fluffly wuffy adorable Raven, such a good sitter."
- Location
- above the four pillars of the golden sea of chaos
Which you then use to kill vampiresNah, it's just burning them until they sticks of charcoal and then sculpting said charcoal into miniature stakes...
Lots of typos (of particular note: prologue, ch 44 and 91):
Also, Welcome to Hogwarts and Dark Wings both link to Dark Wings in your 'more info'
SV ate my formatting. Not doing that again, so...anything that's got no red should...(which isn't helpful).
Prologue:
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Omake:
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Omake:
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Not 100% sure that's what you were trying to say, but something needs to change - either that or gender.
Ch 1:
Not 100% sure if this is actually wrong...
Either 'gone' or 'progressed'.
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Think that reads better.
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? Not sure about that sentence.
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?
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Ummm? Missing a bit?
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Feeling
Ch 53:
Ch 57:
Really clunky - maybe 'encircling Karin in a hug from behind'?
This doesn't seem right. Henry's referring to heresy in his internal monologue, but Louise doesn't mention heresy. Just chant experimentation, which...doesn't quite fit with the rest of the paragraph.
Ch 58:
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Ch 78:
Not entirely sure about this.
Shouldn't that be 'naming ceremony' or similar? Since those have nothing to do with the summoning ceremony from memory.
Not sure about that word choice.
Ch 79:
Renown
Ch 81:
Possibly intentional?
Or something else.
Ch 91:
Missing things.
Ch 94:
Missing word (That's a guess.)
Ch 96:
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Also, why the new paragraph?
Ch 101:
?
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if a commoner broke?
Omake:
Of interest or interesting.
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?
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Omake:
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Also, Welcome to Hogwarts and Dark Wings both link to Dark Wings in your 'more info'
SV ate my formatting. Not doing that again, so...anything that's got no red should...(which isn't helpful).
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Uxion
The Slightly Less Depressed
- Location
- Personal Hell
What do you mean?
Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Eight
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Eight
There was something cathartic in watching the Duchess Karin Desirée de la Valliere try her hardest, and fail miserably, to keep her mask of steel on her face as she bent down to look at the toddler and then calmly pull it up in her arms. Isabella wasn't present, and while in truth I shouldn't have been present to begin with -the state outright needed me- I could multi-task handling my meager state businesses and my parents' visit.
"He is adorable," Karin said with the same flat tone she would state a painting is beautiful. The fact she said that while squirming and trying her hardest to hide the desire to just snuggle the thing was evident. On his side, Pierre's namesake was simply laughing while twirling a mustache, his other hand holding on to a liquor as old as him, or perhaps even more. I had sworn, decades before, to return the favor of the liquor cabinet's key, and thus here we stood, both of us merrily watching Karin try her hardest, and failing miserably at that, to keep her stern facade on.
"Gu-gu," the child gurgled happily, and I could hear the sound of springs detonate within Karin as her arms trembled, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as she had to fight an inner battle of epic proportions with her willpower just to hold herself back from making funny faces at the child.
"I reckon it would be even funnier if we left mother alone," I muttered. "Would she go for the cheeks, I wonder?"
Karin's eyes twitched as she glanced in my direction. I simply smiled. "He is a happy baby," Karin said once more. "He definitely did not take the grumpy from you, Henry," she continued. "Your eyes, most certainly."
"Oh oh," Pierre laughed, taking a sip of liquor. "He has the dashing and roguish charms of his grandfather without a doubt-"
"Pierre, shut up," Karin said with a huff, "You'll make this Pierre cry," although that particular Pierre didn't seem prone to crying any time soon, Karin still rocked him gently back and forth, humming to make him quiet down.
Even in the magical world, using grandparents as a way to avoid having to hire a babysitter existed since ancient times. I wondered when Anne and Joseph were going to make an appearance, though honestly I hoped they would make it in a normal, non-heart attack-inducing way. I knew deep down I was having delusions, but I could still hope. For if a man does not hope, then why does he wake up in the morning?
Apparently to watch the bonfires signal the start of a war.
I stared at the thick columns of black smoke that rose from afar, their show a sign that I really should not have stayed in to sleep -but I hadn't been woken up. What followed was strangely out of touch. It was like I was moving in jelly, as if a camera was propped up in a corner of my vision, and I was a mere puppet of the events. What I did know was that the sole reason I wasn't aboard the Windland yet was that Isabella had preempted my decision and somewhat ensured the hardest spells would be used to keep me inside said rooms, rather than out of them.
So as I stopped slamming my fists against the hardened doors that had been locked from the outside, I turned my sights on the dresser and got myself dressed as fast as I could. There was no way I was letting them decide what to do without me, and if this meant blasting aside a wall, or a floor, then so be it. I was sure Isabella would relish rebuilding our bedroom. She had taken away my wand. She hadn't taken away my spare wand, hidden in my sleeve, because of course she hadn't thought about it.
I clenched the tool and snarled the spell, rather than merely chant it. "Rip!" the sizzling, shrieking winds pulsed and popped as they rushed forth with the billowing gales of a miniature hurricane, cracking and shattering the doors as they exploded outwardly, sending the five knights of the Western Parterre to fly back, their bodies hitting various parts of the wall opposite my door.
"Make way for the Prince," I hissed as I stepped outside, only for a cringing noise to emanate from the throats of an unlucky soldier, who was trembling like a leaf.
"H-Her r-royal highness-" the man pleaded, and he was literally crying as he said that, "wishes his highness to stay in-" he was simpering and crying, there were tears falling down his face. "Please your highness-please-don't make me do this."
I gave him a small nod, and then a blunt air hammer sent him to slam against the wall on the side. "Apologies," I said as I walked past his form dug into the wall, "But I am in a hurry."
Raven cawed from outside the windows, flapping his wings as I gave him a curt nod. "Let loose the crows of war," I spoke, lifting my left arm as my right thrust my spare wand forward to send flying a group of nervous knights of the Parterre who were trying to pacify me with their hands raised.
"Y-Your highness! Please-we have orders..." one croaked from the floor, "You cannot...leave..." he lifted his hand upwards, "The prince...cannot...leave..." his head fell down with a thud, but I was already past him.
Raven cawed, and flew off. His caws were loud enough that they made the windows of the palace rattle, murders of crows rising in the distance upon the treetops. My eyes snapped to a terrified servant, who was clutching on to his chest at my sight.
"Where is my wife?" I growled, and the servant babbled something about the throne room, and about an urgent meeting with the army staff. I was already past him, having given him a pat on his shoulder and a hasty thank you. The man fainted from the sheer honor, his eyes rolled back and tears of joy spreading through his face.
I didn't bother with it.
I admit, when the guards guarding the outside of the court room saw me coming, they did not plead mercy, nor cry. They did not even bother putting up a defense. They simply moved to the side and allowed me to kick the doors open.
"What is the meaning of this!?" I snarled with enough anger that the only one that didn't recoil in the courtroom was the throne, and that was mostly because with it being an object, it couldn't feel fear. My steps slammed down heavily on the ground as I trudged forth, the officers moving aside with shock clearly etched on their faces. Isabella had her fan out, and was clutching it in fright as General de Montpassant and General Bowood stood nearby, a table set to perhaps enunciate a plan of war.
I looked to the right, and then to the left. There wasn't a single person present in the room who didn't belong to my army. There wasn't a single officer there that I hadn't personally seen train at least once, or person that I hadn't talked with. Perhaps I did not remember all of their names, but I definitely knew them.
"H-Husband-" Isabella swallowed, "We are discussing-"
"The elves have come to wage war," I hissed, clenching both of my hands on the surface of the table, glancing down at the map that showed a crude depiction of the elvish navy advancing straight for Lutece. "Whatever their reasoning-they shall not find Gallia an easy prey," I bared my teeth. "What is the situation along the border? What of the Gendarmeries-"
"We lost the twentieth, your highness," General de Montpassant spoke. "Scouts managed to reach the thirteenth and give the alarm-all that stayed behind are presumed lost."
I swallowed. "Two hundred men."
"Yes, your highness," the General whispered. "The other Gendarmeries are pulling back, following orders they will make a first stand at the Rhone and Saone rivers of Lyonnes-"
I stared down at the map once more. "The villages along the way?"
"Evacuated," the General continued. "The fleets are being pulled into position, but your highness-" he steeled himself, "They will pass on our corpses before we will allow those filthy elves to step within the city of Lyonnes."
I placed a hand on the table, much to Isabella's held breath. "And they shall pass on mine too," I spoke firmly. I looked straight up at Isabella, who was shaking her head, her eyes wide and her entire self shaking like a leaf.
"No," she shrieked. "No. No-No-No!"
"Isa-"
"You are forbidden! You-arrest him! Bring him back into his chambers! No! No-" she stared as not a single man in the room rushed to obey her order, and as she clutched her fan tighter yet, she threw it in my direction. "What are you waiting for!? I'm your Queen!"
"Yes," I answered softly, with a slow nod and a small smile. "But I'm their Prince."
I turned my back on her, even though it honestly pained me to do so. "Henry! Henry don't you dare! Henry-you lot! You are all under arrest! I'll have you all executed for this! Don't you dare-" as Isabella screamed louder, I began to walk out of the court room.
"Pissed off wife is never a good thing to leave behind before war, your highness," General de Montpassant said with a chuckle as we marched down the hallway towards the courtyards of Lutece.
"Pissed off Queen also sounds like the unhealthy prospect, Remis," I replied.
"I fell from grace because I farted in the same room as the king," Remis replied with a snort. "Your highness thinks I care?"
"Please, don't tell me you delight my poor men with your farts while in the same room as them!" I mock-replied, my shoulders shaking as I inwardly began to chuckle.
"Those that deserve it," the General grumbled, "But still-prepping the Windland will take a few hours at least, your highness."
I hummed at that, "Very well-guess I'll do a swift tactical charge in the opposite direction. Men! Follow General Far-wait a moment, des Monts Passant, because farts pass through..." I began to laugh as the General laughed in turn, soon followed by the chorus of laughter that came from the rest of the officer staff as they moved past, and into the courtyards to then head for the Windland.
I stopped, took a deep breath, and then began to walk back.
I found Isabella exactly where I had left her, if on the floor, the crown of Gallia half bent against the nearby steps, and tears freely falling down her face. Her arms were around her knees, and in that moment-in that moment I realized that I wasn't looking at a Queen, but at a young woman who did not know what to do of her life.
She lifted her face when she saw me step inside the empty court room, desolated even of the servants.
"Isabella," I said.
"Still here?" she mumbled, "You forgot something?" she glanced at the crown, "If you want that, it's broken. Get yourself another."
"Are you sulking?" I remarked as I calmly made my way by her side, and sat down right next to her.
"A Queen doesn't sulk. Poor pitiful Isabella does," she scoffed. "Because poor pitiful Isabella is such a failure nobody wants to stay by her side. Her husband would rather be with commoners, fight wars, fight the elves-he would rather die next to his commoners, but when he wants something, oh he comes to poor pitiful Isabella who's so much in love that she'll do anything. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't matter what it isn't. She'll do it, yes, immediately your majesty. But when she wants something, when she wants her husband safe, a tiny thing, really, does she get it? No, no she doesn't. Poor pitiful Isabella can become Queen and have the crown and the scepter and have all of the fanciest things...but she can't keep her husband safe."
She sniffled, grabbed a handful of her sleeves' puffy silk inner linens and then blew her nose on them without a care in the world.
"Do you think I'm not scared?" I asked softly, glancing at her.
"Poor pitiful Isabella doesn't know," she sniffled. "She thought the world of her Henry, her beloved husband, but the world wasn't enough and it betrayed her, and now she's left with nothing. One day, even little Pierre will betray her, because if she loved her Henry so much-she can just imagine how much her little Pierre is going to hurt her. Like father too. Everyone poor pitiful Isabella loves ends up hurting her. She loved her mother so much she died the moment Isabella was born. That should have told her something," she clutched her legs. "It should have told her something."
"Isabella, stop talking of yourself in third person and look at me," I mumbled as I gingerly grabbed hold of her and pulled her firmly on my lap, much to her meager recalcitrant refusals. Her red puffy eyes looked at me, and I stared right back at them. "I am terrified." I placed my forehead against hers. "I am utterly shaking in my legs right now. I swear that every fiber of my body is telling me to take back my words, sit on the throne, and wait for news from the front line."
"Then why aren't you doing it!?" Isabella screamed, "Why aren't you staying here!?"
"Because I am a Square mage, Isabella," I murmured. "And it means I can do the difference. So-So I must go, because if that difference means victory over defeat, if it means success over failure-then I must go," I hugged her tightly. "Single men can make the difference, Isabella. On the fields of war, on the tides of battles-my men fight for crown and country...but if I refuse to surrender, then so will they. If I do not run, then neither will they. Isabella, this is the first time the elves launched an offensive, and for something other than Alhambra. Why? What is their purpose? I do not know," I chuckled softly. "I do not know. I am terrified. Terrified of not knowing this," I whispered. "But what scares me the most-it is of what might happen to you and Pierre," I gave her a light kiss on the side of the temple. "So I will fight. And the elves won't have me. And they will not have Lyonnes. And we will push them back. And then I will return to you a winner, my beloved, and I promise you-I won't make you cry again."
"That's a lie," Isabella murmured even as she smiled a bit, resting her head against my chest. "You are horrible at lying, Henry."
She giggled, and then deeply kissed me.
"As your Queen-I am ordering you and that bunch of misfit traitorous swines to return to me alive and victorious, Marshal of Gallia."
I smiled, and kissed her in return. "As your Marshal, I obey my Queen's orders, as your husband...we have a few hours, and the court room is empty~"
The rest, as they say, is best left to your imagination.
There was something cathartic in watching the Duchess Karin Desirée de la Valliere try her hardest, and fail miserably, to keep her mask of steel on her face as she bent down to look at the toddler and then calmly pull it up in her arms. Isabella wasn't present, and while in truth I shouldn't have been present to begin with -the state outright needed me- I could multi-task handling my meager state businesses and my parents' visit.
"He is adorable," Karin said with the same flat tone she would state a painting is beautiful. The fact she said that while squirming and trying her hardest to hide the desire to just snuggle the thing was evident. On his side, Pierre's namesake was simply laughing while twirling a mustache, his other hand holding on to a liquor as old as him, or perhaps even more. I had sworn, decades before, to return the favor of the liquor cabinet's key, and thus here we stood, both of us merrily watching Karin try her hardest, and failing miserably at that, to keep her stern facade on.
"Gu-gu," the child gurgled happily, and I could hear the sound of springs detonate within Karin as her arms trembled, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as she had to fight an inner battle of epic proportions with her willpower just to hold herself back from making funny faces at the child.
"I reckon it would be even funnier if we left mother alone," I muttered. "Would she go for the cheeks, I wonder?"
Karin's eyes twitched as she glanced in my direction. I simply smiled. "He is a happy baby," Karin said once more. "He definitely did not take the grumpy from you, Henry," she continued. "Your eyes, most certainly."
"Oh oh," Pierre laughed, taking a sip of liquor. "He has the dashing and roguish charms of his grandfather without a doubt-"
"Pierre, shut up," Karin said with a huff, "You'll make this Pierre cry," although that particular Pierre didn't seem prone to crying any time soon, Karin still rocked him gently back and forth, humming to make him quiet down.
Even in the magical world, using grandparents as a way to avoid having to hire a babysitter existed since ancient times. I wondered when Anne and Joseph were going to make an appearance, though honestly I hoped they would make it in a normal, non-heart attack-inducing way. I knew deep down I was having delusions, but I could still hope. For if a man does not hope, then why does he wake up in the morning?
Apparently to watch the bonfires signal the start of a war.
I stared at the thick columns of black smoke that rose from afar, their show a sign that I really should not have stayed in to sleep -but I hadn't been woken up. What followed was strangely out of touch. It was like I was moving in jelly, as if a camera was propped up in a corner of my vision, and I was a mere puppet of the events. What I did know was that the sole reason I wasn't aboard the Windland yet was that Isabella had preempted my decision and somewhat ensured the hardest spells would be used to keep me inside said rooms, rather than out of them.
So as I stopped slamming my fists against the hardened doors that had been locked from the outside, I turned my sights on the dresser and got myself dressed as fast as I could. There was no way I was letting them decide what to do without me, and if this meant blasting aside a wall, or a floor, then so be it. I was sure Isabella would relish rebuilding our bedroom. She had taken away my wand. She hadn't taken away my spare wand, hidden in my sleeve, because of course she hadn't thought about it.
I clenched the tool and snarled the spell, rather than merely chant it. "Rip!" the sizzling, shrieking winds pulsed and popped as they rushed forth with the billowing gales of a miniature hurricane, cracking and shattering the doors as they exploded outwardly, sending the five knights of the Western Parterre to fly back, their bodies hitting various parts of the wall opposite my door.
"Make way for the Prince," I hissed as I stepped outside, only for a cringing noise to emanate from the throats of an unlucky soldier, who was trembling like a leaf.
"H-Her r-royal highness-" the man pleaded, and he was literally crying as he said that, "wishes his highness to stay in-" he was simpering and crying, there were tears falling down his face. "Please your highness-please-don't make me do this."
I gave him a small nod, and then a blunt air hammer sent him to slam against the wall on the side. "Apologies," I said as I walked past his form dug into the wall, "But I am in a hurry."
Raven cawed from outside the windows, flapping his wings as I gave him a curt nod. "Let loose the crows of war," I spoke, lifting my left arm as my right thrust my spare wand forward to send flying a group of nervous knights of the Parterre who were trying to pacify me with their hands raised.
"Y-Your highness! Please-we have orders..." one croaked from the floor, "You cannot...leave..." he lifted his hand upwards, "The prince...cannot...leave..." his head fell down with a thud, but I was already past him.
Raven cawed, and flew off. His caws were loud enough that they made the windows of the palace rattle, murders of crows rising in the distance upon the treetops. My eyes snapped to a terrified servant, who was clutching on to his chest at my sight.
"Where is my wife?" I growled, and the servant babbled something about the throne room, and about an urgent meeting with the army staff. I was already past him, having given him a pat on his shoulder and a hasty thank you. The man fainted from the sheer honor, his eyes rolled back and tears of joy spreading through his face.
I didn't bother with it.
I admit, when the guards guarding the outside of the court room saw me coming, they did not plead mercy, nor cry. They did not even bother putting up a defense. They simply moved to the side and allowed me to kick the doors open.
"What is the meaning of this!?" I snarled with enough anger that the only one that didn't recoil in the courtroom was the throne, and that was mostly because with it being an object, it couldn't feel fear. My steps slammed down heavily on the ground as I trudged forth, the officers moving aside with shock clearly etched on their faces. Isabella had her fan out, and was clutching it in fright as General de Montpassant and General Bowood stood nearby, a table set to perhaps enunciate a plan of war.
I looked to the right, and then to the left. There wasn't a single person present in the room who didn't belong to my army. There wasn't a single officer there that I hadn't personally seen train at least once, or person that I hadn't talked with. Perhaps I did not remember all of their names, but I definitely knew them.
"H-Husband-" Isabella swallowed, "We are discussing-"
"The elves have come to wage war," I hissed, clenching both of my hands on the surface of the table, glancing down at the map that showed a crude depiction of the elvish navy advancing straight for Lutece. "Whatever their reasoning-they shall not find Gallia an easy prey," I bared my teeth. "What is the situation along the border? What of the Gendarmeries-"
"We lost the twentieth, your highness," General de Montpassant spoke. "Scouts managed to reach the thirteenth and give the alarm-all that stayed behind are presumed lost."
I swallowed. "Two hundred men."
"Yes, your highness," the General whispered. "The other Gendarmeries are pulling back, following orders they will make a first stand at the Rhone and Saone rivers of Lyonnes-"
I stared down at the map once more. "The villages along the way?"
"Evacuated," the General continued. "The fleets are being pulled into position, but your highness-" he steeled himself, "They will pass on our corpses before we will allow those filthy elves to step within the city of Lyonnes."
I placed a hand on the table, much to Isabella's held breath. "And they shall pass on mine too," I spoke firmly. I looked straight up at Isabella, who was shaking her head, her eyes wide and her entire self shaking like a leaf.
"No," she shrieked. "No. No-No-No!"
"Isa-"
"You are forbidden! You-arrest him! Bring him back into his chambers! No! No-" she stared as not a single man in the room rushed to obey her order, and as she clutched her fan tighter yet, she threw it in my direction. "What are you waiting for!? I'm your Queen!"
"Yes," I answered softly, with a slow nod and a small smile. "But I'm their Prince."
I turned my back on her, even though it honestly pained me to do so. "Henry! Henry don't you dare! Henry-you lot! You are all under arrest! I'll have you all executed for this! Don't you dare-" as Isabella screamed louder, I began to walk out of the court room.
"Pissed off wife is never a good thing to leave behind before war, your highness," General de Montpassant said with a chuckle as we marched down the hallway towards the courtyards of Lutece.
"Pissed off Queen also sounds like the unhealthy prospect, Remis," I replied.
"I fell from grace because I farted in the same room as the king," Remis replied with a snort. "Your highness thinks I care?"
"Please, don't tell me you delight my poor men with your farts while in the same room as them!" I mock-replied, my shoulders shaking as I inwardly began to chuckle.
"Those that deserve it," the General grumbled, "But still-prepping the Windland will take a few hours at least, your highness."
I hummed at that, "Very well-guess I'll do a swift tactical charge in the opposite direction. Men! Follow General Far-wait a moment, des Monts Passant, because farts pass through..." I began to laugh as the General laughed in turn, soon followed by the chorus of laughter that came from the rest of the officer staff as they moved past, and into the courtyards to then head for the Windland.
I stopped, took a deep breath, and then began to walk back.
I found Isabella exactly where I had left her, if on the floor, the crown of Gallia half bent against the nearby steps, and tears freely falling down her face. Her arms were around her knees, and in that moment-in that moment I realized that I wasn't looking at a Queen, but at a young woman who did not know what to do of her life.
She lifted her face when she saw me step inside the empty court room, desolated even of the servants.
"Isabella," I said.
"Still here?" she mumbled, "You forgot something?" she glanced at the crown, "If you want that, it's broken. Get yourself another."
"Are you sulking?" I remarked as I calmly made my way by her side, and sat down right next to her.
"A Queen doesn't sulk. Poor pitiful Isabella does," she scoffed. "Because poor pitiful Isabella is such a failure nobody wants to stay by her side. Her husband would rather be with commoners, fight wars, fight the elves-he would rather die next to his commoners, but when he wants something, oh he comes to poor pitiful Isabella who's so much in love that she'll do anything. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't matter what it isn't. She'll do it, yes, immediately your majesty. But when she wants something, when she wants her husband safe, a tiny thing, really, does she get it? No, no she doesn't. Poor pitiful Isabella can become Queen and have the crown and the scepter and have all of the fanciest things...but she can't keep her husband safe."
She sniffled, grabbed a handful of her sleeves' puffy silk inner linens and then blew her nose on them without a care in the world.
"Do you think I'm not scared?" I asked softly, glancing at her.
"Poor pitiful Isabella doesn't know," she sniffled. "She thought the world of her Henry, her beloved husband, but the world wasn't enough and it betrayed her, and now she's left with nothing. One day, even little Pierre will betray her, because if she loved her Henry so much-she can just imagine how much her little Pierre is going to hurt her. Like father too. Everyone poor pitiful Isabella loves ends up hurting her. She loved her mother so much she died the moment Isabella was born. That should have told her something," she clutched her legs. "It should have told her something."
"Isabella, stop talking of yourself in third person and look at me," I mumbled as I gingerly grabbed hold of her and pulled her firmly on my lap, much to her meager recalcitrant refusals. Her red puffy eyes looked at me, and I stared right back at them. "I am terrified." I placed my forehead against hers. "I am utterly shaking in my legs right now. I swear that every fiber of my body is telling me to take back my words, sit on the throne, and wait for news from the front line."
"Then why aren't you doing it!?" Isabella screamed, "Why aren't you staying here!?"
"Because I am a Square mage, Isabella," I murmured. "And it means I can do the difference. So-So I must go, because if that difference means victory over defeat, if it means success over failure-then I must go," I hugged her tightly. "Single men can make the difference, Isabella. On the fields of war, on the tides of battles-my men fight for crown and country...but if I refuse to surrender, then so will they. If I do not run, then neither will they. Isabella, this is the first time the elves launched an offensive, and for something other than Alhambra. Why? What is their purpose? I do not know," I chuckled softly. "I do not know. I am terrified. Terrified of not knowing this," I whispered. "But what scares me the most-it is of what might happen to you and Pierre," I gave her a light kiss on the side of the temple. "So I will fight. And the elves won't have me. And they will not have Lyonnes. And we will push them back. And then I will return to you a winner, my beloved, and I promise you-I won't make you cry again."
"That's a lie," Isabella murmured even as she smiled a bit, resting her head against my chest. "You are horrible at lying, Henry."
She giggled, and then deeply kissed me.
"As your Queen-I am ordering you and that bunch of misfit traitorous swines to return to me alive and victorious, Marshal of Gallia."
I smiled, and kissed her in return. "As your Marshal, I obey my Queen's orders, as your husband...we have a few hours, and the court room is empty~"
The rest, as they say, is best left to your imagination.
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Notice: A few more chapters, and then we'll be done.
...
I have seen the ending.
...
And it is glorious.
...
I have seen the ending.
...
And it is glorious.