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Noblesse Oblige [Znt/SI]

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Chapter Eight
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    • Chapter Eight

    This time, presentations went by far more smoothly than before. Kid-Wardes had grown up to be a normal looking eleven years old, even if he had this penchant for looking scandalized whenever I suggested something. I waited just a tiny bit to allow for the majority of children to be present, and then 'opened' the night with dinner.

    "Wardes," I said, a glass of wine in one hand, a plate of food in the other. "Do you perhaps know where they keep the Hippogriffs?"

    "The Hippogriffs?" Wardes replied with his eyebrows scrunching up in thought. "I think they would be in the stables. Unless they are out patrolling the gardens?" as soon as he said that, I would have slapped myself on the forehead. Of course they would have them patrol the premises of the castle. "Though we aren't allowed to leave this room, your Grace," Wardes continued, ruthlessly squashing my dreams.

    "Wardes," I said gently, "Please call me 'Valliere'. As my right-handed man in the battles to assault the buffet, I'll allow you this. No, rather than allow, feel free to call me 'Valliere'."

    Wardes hesitated only slightly, and then nodded. "Very well, Valliere," he smiled. "You are most definitely easier to talk with than your elder sister."

    "What can I say?" I replied with a sigh. "She's the heir, I'll just be the lazy second born."

    "You are the eldest male though, right?" Wardes said, "Aren't you being groomed to take over your family's surname?"

    I thoughtfully tapped my chin. "I guess so, but I don't let that bother me," I said. "Carpe Diem-catch the day," I grinned. "That's-"

    A blond-haired, blue-eyed boy neared us with a look that definitely meant that he wanted to speak with me, and considering the way he waited politely for me to finish my sentence, this had to be the Gramont number three of four. I gave him a tiny nod of acknowledgement, "I am Henry Philippe de la Valliere, eldest son of Duke de la Valliere," I smiled as I watched the kid stammer a bit. "And this is the Viscount de Wardes," I presented Wardes myself, because as the highest ranked noble in the conversation, it was up to me to decide who was included, and who was not.

    Wardes could stay exactly where I knew I could keep an eye on him.

    "I'm-I am Anthoine Charles the-the Fourth," the kid said. Was he seven? Eight? Guiche had to be 'one' just like Louise, so this was his older brother. Seriously, the Gramont head of the house must have been on fire-not that my parents weren't either. "Son of Antoine The Third-de Gramont," he finished.

    "You forgot your father's title," I whispered, which made him widen his eyes a bit.

    "Count," Anthoine said hastily. "It's Count." He sheepishly looked downwards. I hummed. This was the kind of 'wounded young boy' that older ladies loved to pamper. I reckoned that there had to be a son of Gramont for every possible 'ideal male'. Was the firstborn a sort of Adonis with muscled pectorals and bright blinding white teeth?

    "So, Lord Gramont," I said. "I did not see you here last year."

    "Mother did not think I was ready to interact with my peers, your Grace," he sheepishly said, bringing a hand behind his neck and looking downcast. "I have always been of weak health-prone to sickness-fumbling with everything-struck with misfortune-"

    "A bit of advice," I said quite calmly, "Remarking on a set of unfortunate events in order to pamper to the desire of motherhood of females is fine, but do try to keep in mind that as much as they work on the females, they also tend to backfire on the males," I blinked once, very calmly, and then smiled. "Let us try again, shall we?"

    Anthoine The Third briefly opened and closed his eyes in surprise, and then nodded, massaging the side of his temples with a dreadful sigh. "You're right," he said, his voice slightly less whiny. "Mother did tell me that. I'm an idiot for forgetting-that's why she didn't want me to come this year too, but I pleaded-could you please keep this a secret?" he whispered, "I'm the third born son -mother says it's just what I should be doing."

    I smiled serenely. "Lord Gramont, you know what? I think I'll like you just as much as I like Wardes here. Just tell me this..." I said in a whisper of conspiracy-like tone. "What do you think about Hippogriffs?"

    A few minutes later, and I excused Lord Gramont for he had 'most important' things to do with an older girl that had caught his eyes. I remained with Wardes, and smiled. "I do wonder if the next Gramont I'll meet will be as interesting as this one."

    "If I may be so bold-what he is doing amounts to taking advantage of other young ladies, your Grace," Wardes said. "It isn't something I would expect you to condone."

    "Wardes," I said gently, "he is young, and highly impressionable. Whether I find it distasteful or not, it does not matter to me. Should he aim his charms on one of my sisters, I would, of course, murder him in his sleep and hide his corpse somewhere they wouldn't be able to find him," I whispered with the smile still on my lips, much to Wardes' surprise. "But I have no intention of admonishing him out of some misguided attempt at playing the White Knight of fairy tale stories. Especially because this way, I earn myself a friend, rather than make myself an enemy...and of this 'friend', I know his sins."

    "That is...quite shrewd," Wardes said. "Is that something taught commonly?" he asked next.

    "No," I replied with a lazy shrug of my shoulders, breaching enough 'etiquette' rules about shrugging that if my mother had see me, she would have whipped me with the etiquette book on my ass, but she didn't, so nothing happened. "It is just that some people can make enemies, but I cannot afford that-or my mother will punish me most severely." I shuddered slightly. "Noblesse Oblige, Wardes. Noblesse Oblige."

    "I have been wondering for a while-what does it mean?" Wardes asked. "Is it Gallian?"

    "It is, I guess," I replied offhandedly. "It means 'Nobility Obliges'. Nobles have obligations towards those they command, and those that are below them. If you wish to know the true nature of a man, then see how he treats those that are below him -usually, it is the most telling piece of their character."

    "Your mother must have hired you some extraordinary tutors, your Grace," Wardes said in the end, quite awed. I shook my head.

    "Wardes-if there is one thing I learned from an early age is that to disappoint my mother is to earn the wrath of hell. I cannot be allowed to disappoint her," I smiled briefly. "Which is why I have spent my fair amount of time in the library back at home studying by myself. This 'free time' that so many speak of, I haven't experienced it. Think about it-my dream is to enter a Knight corps that isn't the Manticore Knights just so I can escape mother's shadow." I sighed. "I cannot wait to be sent to a magic academy-away from it all."

    "If you say so, your Grace," Wardes said, a grimace on his face quite visible.

    "I apologize if my words opened your wounds," I said softly, "Though I think you would not like my pity, is that correct?"

    Wardes' eyes glanced aside, and then he forced a smile of his own. "I am the one who should be apologizing, your Grace. My concerns shouldn't be yours-and you definitely should not concern yourself with my problems."

    "Well, if you insist on calling me 'Your Grace' rather than 'Valliere', then perhaps I should. I was thinking-would it be all right if we set up a correspondence?" as I asked that, Wardes blinked in surprise, and the smiled a bit, perhaps honestly, perhaps not.

    "I-I would like that, your-" I made a 'tut-tut' sound, "Valliere."

    I smiled. "There we go," I hummed. "You thinking on what magic academy to attend when you are of age, Wardes?"

    "The Tristain Magic Academy is the closest and the most renowned," Wardes said. "I will attend it in four years of time-"

    "Then keep me a seat in six years," I replied, "I do doubt mother would allow me to skip ahead of my peers."

    "Valliere-just to ask," Wardes blinked, "You are-nine?"

    "Yes?" I replied.

    "But...ah," he acquiesced. "Perhaps having none is sometimes better than not?" he murmured, and to that, I simply smiled awkwardly without saying much else. Mother's 'reputation' was useful in making people think that the reason behind my 'wisdom' was tied to the harsh, severe, draconian teachings that she would subject me to. Sometimes, having a 'reputation' helped.

    And I would milk it.

    I would milk that reputation for all of its worth.
     
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    • shadenight123 said:
    "No," I replied with a lazy shrug of my shoulders, breaching enough 'etiquette' rules about shrugging that if my mother had see me, she would have whipped me with the etiquette book on my ass, but she didn't, so nothing happened. "It is just that some people can make enemies, but I cannot afford that-or my mother will punish me most severely." I shuddered slightly. "Noblesse Oblige, Wardes. Noblesse Oblige."
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    Role credits!



    ....... i'll just see my self out.
     
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    A sidenote, I am rather surprised at how Wardes is getting consistently invited to the royal birthdays. He's quite low on the totem pole, a viscount barely ranking above a baron, and given his circumstances, that is definitely not a lesser title given to him to practice for the real thing.
     
    shadenight123 said:
    Especially because this way, I earn myself a friend, rather than make myself an enemy...and of this 'friend', I know his sins."
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    That's going to be an extremely fragile "friendship" considering that every time Henry pubically supports Gramont he runs the risk of making enemies out of all the women the boy plans to mooch off. Henry can play two-faced snake all he wants, but that's not going to stop him from smelling when he rolls in shit.

    shadenight123 said:
    "But...ah," he acquiesced. "Perhaps having none is sometimes better than not?" he murmured,
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    Implying Wardes' mother has already gone off the deep end or perhaps been pushed down a flight of stairs? It's curious that he was already the real Viscount at 10, yet remains in the "kiddie pool" for another year.
     
    Felius said:
    A sidenote, I am rather surprised at how Wardes is getting consistently invited to the royal birthdays.
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    My guess is pitty, he is apparently an orphan, a young one at that.

    For his own good he should have every possible chance to get to know the rest of the noble families since he has no parents to arrange for it
     
    MinorGryph said:
    That's going to be an extremely fragile "friendship" considering that every time Henry pubically supports Gramont he runs the risk of making enemies out of all the women the boy plans to mooch off. Henry can play two-faced snake all he wants, but that's not going to stop him from smelling when he rolls in shit.
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    Perhaps the archetype of the long suffering friend: "Yeah, my friend is an idiot, but he is my friend. When you beat him up, please do avoid causing permanent harm." :p

    Besides, this particular Gramont shouldn't be too bad in terms of making enemies, his apparent strategy not being one that would leave scorned women all around. At worst I'd see the women hating each other but not him. After all, he's the poor sick boy who needs to be protected, it's those harridans who want to use him who need to get away.
    Don_taco said:
    My guess is pitty, he is apparently an orphan, a young one at that.

    For his own good he should have every possible chance to get to know the rest of the noble families since he has no parents to arrange for it
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    So he's essentially a charity case? Makes sense I suppose.
     
    Felius said:
    Perhaps the archetype of the long suffering friend: "Yeah, my friend is an idiot, but he is my friend. When you beat him up, please do avoid causing permanent harm." :p
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    Friendship is a two way road. If Henry lets Anthoine get beaten, he can't expect Anthoine to leap to his aid in a similar situation. Plus I dunno about you, but I felt it was a bit counter intuitive to explain to Wardes of all people that he's only being nice to that other guy who's morally reprehensible so he can use him in the future. Now Wardes and anyone listening in know better than to let Henry get wind of their 'sins'.

    Besides, this particular Gramont shouldn't be too bad in terms of making enemies, his apparent strategy not being one that would leave scorned women all around. At worst I'd see the women hating each other but not him. After all, he's the poor sick boy who needs to be protected, it's those harridans who want to use him who need to get away.
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    I think the women's sympathy will start to run out around the same time as their wallets do (which is coincidentally the same time Anthoine starts looking for a new sugar momma). And if Wardes is anything to go by, both parents and men in general will think Gramont is being a scumbag.

    So he's essentially a charity case? Makes sense I suppose.
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    ...Wardes is attending a literal pity party!!!
     
    MinorGryph said:
    Friendship is a two way road. If Henry lets Anthoine get beaten, he can't expect Anthoine to leap to his aid in a similar situation. Plus I dunno about you, but I felt it was a bit counter intuitive to explain to Wardes of all people that he's only being nice to that other guy who's morally reprehensible so he can use him in the future. Now Wardes and anyone listening in know better than to let Henry get wind of their 'sins'.
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    So long it's the "beating for double timing" archetype, specially if it's the women doing it, it shouldn't be too bad to not interfere. If nothing else, it's not a good idea to interfere in a lover's spat, at least so long it doesn't actually threaten anyone's life. Besides, nothing to say Shade and Gramont can't be just more casual friends, and there's nothing wrong with that. The second part though, yeah, that's probably not the best of ideas, specially with Wardes in a rather impressionable age, but trying to live while guarding exactly what one is saying is rather exhausting, and can feel fake for others if one is not quite the actor.

    MinorGryph said:
    I think the women's sympathy will start to run out around the same time as their wallets do (which is coincidentally the same time Anthoine starts looking for a new sugar momma). And if Wardes is anything to go by, both parents and men in general will think Gramont is being a scumbag.
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    You do realize that, while not the heir, he is a noble from a house with quite the military tradition? He's nearly certainly not doing it for the "Sugar Mamma", so to speak, at least outside a potential advantageous marriage that might appear, but that's a given considering nobility, and not something he could "trade-up" later on. Being rather crass, he's doing it for the tail. Or rather, his mother is having him do it as practice for him to get tail in the future. In terms of being supported, he does have a career in the military to look forward, plus being supported by his own house.
     
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    knowing shade he'll probably summon a creature of bottomless destruction and rage, like a horse-sized lemming or something
     
    Onmur said:
    Or a magical beast that naturally secretes coffee.
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    Even if it doesn't exist, should Shade discover that such a thing possibly could despite it being an abomination of magic and nature, nothing will stop him from finding and/or creating it.
     
    Chapter Nine
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    • Chapter Nine

    When I was ten, enough space stood within my schedule to allow for my father's own personal brand of tutoring. This meant, of course, horse riding. In a world where fantastical beasts lurked the corner, where six-legged horses, Manticores, Griffin, Unicorns, Dragons and the fluffy Hippogriffs could be mounted, the old, reliable horse was also a key part of the system. Commoners walked, while nobles either rode on a mount or took a carriage.

    "And this is the start of the La Blanc fiefdom, currently managed by Eleonore," Pierre was, for lack of better words, an easy-going noble. He still was a noble, make no mistake, and he still expected to be respected as such, but there was a certain air of 'nonchalance' that made him far more approachable than Karin -as evidenced by how the commoners simply flocked to us whenever we neared a village. Sure, most of them could simply be doing it out of politeness and the desire to keep their heads on their shoulders, but there was a neat contrast with how they went about it.

    "Is your back all right, old lady?" Pierre asked an old lady with wrinkles on her face, who smiled and blushed, waving away my 'father's' concerns. He was quite honestly 'beloved' by the servants and the commoners of the land. If he snapped his fingers, a mob of torches and pitchforks would be at the ready within seconds. While mother took care of the household finances, father spent most of his days going around dealing with the common folks. He could stay in the mansion and drink wine all day long, but he didn't want to do that, and from a certain point of view, I understood and appreciated this 'method'.

    The more land we explored, the more I realized just how big the entire thing actually was. "One day, you'll have to make sure everything is managed properly," father said as we made our way back towards the mansion. "While I trust your sisters to do their best, if I think about how a good for nothing husband might ruin them-it makes my heart cry," he muttered the last part darkly, to which I answered with a nod.

    "Most certainly, father," I said with a small smile. "If someone were to lay a hand on my sisters-and his heart were wicked, then I would bring down justice. By that token...I would not trust a Gramont. Especially not the second to last," I shook my head.

    "Indeed," Pierre nodded. "Glad to know we think alike, son," he smiled. "Anthoine is a good friend, but he has his...likes. His wife though-she's the real piece of work," he bristled slightly, "Don't tell your mother I said that."

    "My lips, father, are sealed," I said most wisely. "Though a Hippogriff might-"

    "Henry, it's not going to happen," Pierre said with a sigh. "No matter how much you insist, no Valliere will ever ride upon a glorified poultry."

    "But you do allow Cattleya to keep pets," I honestly whined. "She got herself a dog, and then a cat-why can't I have a hen? A duck? Ducks are feathered war dogs, father-"

    "I keep wondering where you took that passion for poultry from," Pierre muttered. "You certainly did not get it from my parents. It must be on Karin's side then-"

    Truth be told, the answer was quite simpler. My mother -my 'real' mother- had a pet hen when she was little, and lived in a farm for a while. When she grew up and married, she moved off to the countryside for a bit, and so the first few years of my life, I spent them with a pet hen.

    A pet hen that a couple of years later would end up as a meal for Christmas, roasted with potatoes, but, well, I was a kid back then, and knew not the end of 'Bianchina' until much, much later.

    But the hen was quite fluffy, and soft. And I wanted another.

    "If I do end up summoning a Hippogriff as my familiar, father," I said quite firmly, "I will be keeping it."

    "I am sure you will end up summoning one," Pierre sighed, "Which is perhaps why your mother is so disheartened." I raised both brows at father's words.

    "Mother...disheartened? Are we speaking of the same person, father?"

    "Let me tell you something, but keep it as a secret between us men," Pierre spoke in a hushed tone, looking right and left before continuing. "She can't wait to find out if either you or Cattleya inherited her 'peculiar' Wind Affinity, so that she can train you personally." A cold shower would have had a better effect, 'father'. Know this: even if my Affinity turns out to be 'Wind', I will lie so hard about it that I'll rather start learning Earth, or Fire. Heck, I'll cross the border and ask the Zerbst for help concerning that if it means not having to train with mother.

    The thought of crossing the border just to meet with the fabled 'Zerbst harlots' was quite tantalizing, all things said. Great Uncle François had apparently fallen for their wiles, and nobody spoke of him ever again on that side of the family.

    "Father," I said softly, "Is that supposed to be a good thing, or a bad thing?" I asked warily, only for Pierre to sigh and shake his head.

    "Karin's your mother, Henry. She won't willfully hurt you," Pierre said, stressing the 'willfully'.

    I sighed. "She's also the Heavy Wind," I said. "Her 'Rule of Steel', it's really non-negotiable."

    "Nobles have responsibilities," Pierre said. "And there are consequences to a noble's faux-pas. Your mother is certainly stern, but not as much as you might think. Why, I ran away from my responsibilities as a noble because the whip and the stick were the first instruments I learned the sound of on my skin," he chuckled gently, "for all of her faults, Karin's not that heavy handed."

    "She's still scary," I pointed out. "More like," I continued, "I'm afraid of disappointing her, I guess."

    "Oh?" Pierre broke out in a chuckle, and shook his head. "That is not something you should be afraid of. She's really proud of all of you-'my Eleonore was flawless at the last ball', 'my Cattleya's so good at sewing', 'my Henry's such a charming young lord'." I blushed and coughed at the awkward praise, looking away. "She might not make a show of it, but she's not someone to be scared of-unless you did something you don't want her to know, uh?"

    "No, nothing of the sort," I shook my head, biting the lower part of my lips. "It's just that-I'd like to start learning magic, father. But-"

    "Uhm...if your mother were to know of this, she'd have my hide," Pierre said, stopping his horse and mine in turn -since he was practically guiding them both, holding on to the reins in order not to let mine 'rush off' into the unknown. He dismounted nimbly, and as I did the same -if with slightly more ground to cover before my feet touched the ground- he tied both horses to a nearby tree stump.

    He then turned towards me, and with his 'noble staff' that was anything but a walking stick in his right hand, he pulled out from one of his pockets a small, polished wand.

    "Now," he said as neared me and made to hand over the wand. "We will not speak of this to your mother," his eyes twinkled. "We will not mention it, make subtle words of it, or otherwise let her understand what is going on."

    I nodded most resolutely, my mouth salivating at the thought of holding on to the wand, of learning magic, of-as the wand exchanged hands, and I clutched it, I could feel the warmth in my chest spread from sheer excitement. I was going to quake the ground, rip the land-destroy the trees, or perhaps what? Create wonders? Use Alchemy to brew poisons, or miraculous healing potions?

    "We begin with the very basic," Pierre said, pointing at a tree with his staff. "Magic is based on one's mind. Though the chanting may be largely the same, it can change depending on the noble. The effect might be the same, for example the conjuring of water, but while some nobles might use the same chant, others might have variations. You might think about a rain to fill a goblet, or use a spoon to do the same job. In the end, the goblet is filled with water, but the means to achieve it vary."

    I nodded, clutching the wand.

    "Remember that you need to use your will. We are Nobles, it is us who rule the world, not the world that rules us," Pierre continued firmly, and then extended his staff. A jet of highly pressurized water left the tip of his staff and hit the bark of the nearby tree. "As you may have noticed, I did so without chanting. This-well, it means the spell came out really weak, but it's best we don't leave any signs of our passage," he grinned. "Though in my youth, why-I was renowned for being the fastest water whip user of all of Tristain."

    As he spoke, I nodded and then extended my arm towards the tree. "Now, something like 'Sprinkling water that comes from the depths of my faith, the Founder's will grants me strength in this trying day-'," as Pierre spoke, I clenched the staff a bit tighter, my eyes half-narrow as I felt my brain churn softly, concentrating on the tree in front of me.

    "Water," I began, "sprinkling from within, the Founder's will is absolute in its command, so-" water began to spray out of the tip of the wand in a thin mist-like quality. It wasn't even enough to be called 'water', but mostly, 'haze'. Still, it worked.

    It worked.

    Oh shit, it worked.
     
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    • On the one hand, there wasn't exploding water. On the other, at least the water didn't explode. One step closer to getting a hippogriff familiar by crossing humans and elves off his potential summon list.
     
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    I dunno why, but i was expecting an explosion somewhere.

    But, kudos you dont get Karin's personal training
     
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