Noblesse Oblige [Znt/SI]

[shadenight123]

Chapter Sixty-Five

The bishop of Nantais was sent back to the Romalian embassy in Lutece escorted by two local horsemen, since he was kind of a foreigner anyway, and it was best if the church dealt with him in their own way -whether by reassigning him elsewhere or actually burning him to the stake, it didn't really matter to me.

Rennais, Vannetais, Domnotée, Cornuaille-they were the principal towns of the county of Brittany, and the places where strife was most apparent. This was due, in no small part, to their nearby proximity to Albion, to their ports, and to the way the Albion nobility treated their own commoners. Like, say whatever the hell you want, but if people want their priests to be without gold, it's because at the heart of the matter they'd like that gold for themselves, at least a tiny bit.

If a commoner's family is starving, but the priest preaches from the altar of the Gods about the Founder's goodwill, then he can do even without the gold necklaces adorning his neck. At the same time, the priests' regalia is there for a reason. It is to bring forth into the commoner the sights of what heaven will one day be, it is to impress the commoner, make him dream of the same things as them-make him desire to become a priest, to become a holy man.

This sort of thing wasn't black and white, with the Protestants being good and the original church being bad, and neither was it the opposite. Of course, when it came to rotten apples-

"So," I said with a sigh, "thank the gods we arrived in time to stop this." Outside the church, a mass of commoners were screaming about Justice! Death to the lecherous fuck! Burn him to death!

"This-this isn't what it looks like," the bishop said, adorned with enough gold to make a local noble cringe in desire. His hair was white, his age quite clearly in the seventies-which made the reason I was there all the more compelling.

"It isn't?" I remarked offhandedly, looking down at the parchment in my hands. "Twenty-seven bastards," I held back the desire to whistle. "Not one or two, but...twenty-seven. Just...just...not even why, but...just how did you think this was a good idea? No, scratch that, why would you even think this wouldn't reach the ears of the lord in charge?"

"All lies and slanders," the bishop said once more, vehemently denying the accusations. "Lost lambs, coming here to take my kindness and...and repaying me like this! With these vile, devil-influenced lies!"

If only there was something like a DNA test, I'd have this solved in a jiffy, but the bishop wasn't a mage, so a Detect Magic wouldn't have worked. Still, lie or not, the commoners outside the church were yelling quite a bit for justice to be served.

I took a deep breath, and then nodded. "The color of your hair before it turned to white," I said, "And the color of your parents' hair," I added.

"Uh?" the bishop replied, blinking as if not understanding my words.

"You heard me," I said sharply, a parchment out. "Now, comply. Then," I turned to look at Lord Castlemorre, "Send in for the ladies with their impeached purity and their spawns. They are to come in one at the time escorted by both of their parents. Tell them I will find those who tell the truth and those who lie with a spell blessed by the Founder-those who thought to ride the wave and decide to leave now will be forgiven, those who instead are in the right can stay and I'll swiftly find out myself. Though if they lie and I discover it, then the sentence will be death."

"You have such a spell, your grace?" the bishop asked, and to that, I simply returned my stare towards him.

"The color of your parents' hair," I said with my eyes narrowing down. "I won't repeat myself again."

And then, finally, I began.

"Your highness, I swear I'mma telling-" I raised a hand, and the young woman in front of me quieted down, a three years old child in her arms, his hair a soft and luscious hazel color. Behind her, her parents both remained nervously silent.

"The color of your parents' hair," I said, a quill and parchment in front of me. "Is hazel and hazel," I hummed. "Yours is hazel," I added, "just like that of your son. Unfortunately for you, the Bishop's hair and that of his parents is black," I smiled, "Which means that your son's hair should be black in turn," I made a soft popping sound by cracking my knuckles together. "Now, this will be straightforward." The muskets took aim from only the right side -I had left the other one empty, because friendly fire was not something I'd do. "Are you going to keep up lying? Because if you do, then your son will join you in your trip to the afterlife."

The young woman in question widened her eyes in sheer fear, even as her parents' skin turned pale.

"Mama..." the three years old mumbled, "wanna go home-"

"It's not the bishop," she said, holding her son in her arms tightly. "It's not him. I lied. It was the butcher's son-I've kept it a secret because he's married to my best friend, but-"

"Rosaline!" her father yelled, "That bastard! I'm going to wring his neck and-"

"That will have to wait," I said, gesturing for a nearby door. "Beyond that door lies the bishop. Now, you three will head over there and ask for his forgiveness, and then you will wait in the back of the church until I am done with the others," I narrowed my eyes. "Have I been clear?"

"Y-Yes your highness, th-thank you for your mercy-" there was quite a few babbling, but as they were swiftly escorted to the back, I clasped my fingers together and sighed.

"This won't work for everyone," I said to my escort. "But seriously, how many remain yet?"

"Ten or so, your grace," Lord Castlemorre said.

This was going to be a long day. This was going to be a truly long day.

"So," I said as I looked at the very last woman of the line, "No parents?"

"No your grace," she mumbled, looking ashamedly down with her child in her arms. "I'm an orphan. The plague took them when I was little-can't remember much of them."

I cringed as I looked at the dark haired young boy next to her. This one could potentially be the bishop's son without a doubt. He was something like ten, or eleven, and if by some miracle the bishop actually managed to get a potion of sorts to make him spry then it could just as well be possible.

Still, from twenty-seven to only one, thank the gods they had sent a dark-haired priest in a town filled with hazel and blond.

Most of the crowd outside was now waiting, but most were starting to feel quite the chilling effect. People entered, and nobody left -perhaps they thought I had eaten them alive or something, but still, they remained silent.

"Listen," I said. "Tell me how it began."

"I was washing the steps of the church," she said, "And-"

I exhaled. The story wasn't really that wild of a tale. Honestly, out of everyone that had come by, she was perhaps the only one I might have been in favor of ruling as truthful. Some of the women even went as far as claim that the bishop had come in the night like some sort of vampire, flying up to their rooms in order to show them a night time of sin and perdition-seriously, why was it so difficult to tell the truth to one's parents?

No, rather...

"Why did you decide to come forth now, and not sooner?" I remarked.

"I can't write," the young woman said. "I told no one-not that anyone would care, so...after the pregnancy, I was treated bad. I could work in the church, the bishop was so kind-I couldn't dare tell the truth, but...I'm the one, the others are lying, your grace. I swear-"

I scratched the underside of my chin.

"This puts me in a bit of a spot," I acquiesced. "I suppose I'll have to execute the priest," I added lightly. "Coming less to his vows," I shook my head. "I suppose I'll make him pick between poison and the chopper's block-"

"Please don't!" I blinked as the voice came from the ten years old by his mother's side. Since he had taken a step forward, the young kid somehow found himself the target of something like a dozen of muskets and two swordwands.

"Joseph!" his mother exclaimed, hurriedly grabbing hold of him and pulling him back.

"Now, now," I said, "He's just a ten year old," I continued. "There are far more dangerous things out there than a ten year old with something to say." I clasped my hands together and smiled, "Why are you against this, boy?"

"Cause the bishop's nice," Joseph mumbled. "He's really, really nice! Last year, he gave me sweets for my birthday!"

"Oh," I blinked. "I see," I nodded. "Well, such unwavering loyalty should be rewarded, I suppose." I scratched the side of my cheek. "Though about the vows...oh well, it's not something that competes to me. It's all up to the Church of Romalia after all," I shrugged, and stood up. "You're free to go. I'll tell the others they're free to go too. Truly, to think an entire village would pin the blame on their bishop like this-shame, for shame!"

"None of the others-none of them were?" the mother mumbled in surprise, and to that I nodded. She exhaled in relief, a hand against her chest. "I knew he wasn't lying."

As soon as she left, the rest of the families followed after a short while, leaving within the church my retinue and the bishop in question.

"So," I said, "It appears that you did break your vows, although only once. Fancy finding that out-"

"Madeleine is a poor woman," the bishop said hastily, "Just because I showed kindness to her orphan-"

"Bishop François," I said flatly, making him quiet down abruptly. "When the matters of the church do not infringe upon the matters of the Crown, then the Crown does not intervene," I glared at him, "But when it does, then the Crown must intervene, and swiftly at that. Whether or not this was your fault, this chaos still happened. What I should do is ask you to go back to Romalia, and have a replacement come," I inclined my head to the side. "But so many people claiming such bold lies...tell me, Bishop François..."

I smiled gently. "Did you make yourself an enemy of any of the local lords?"

Lord Castlemorre held his breath.

What? Don't be so filled with prejudice, Lord Castlemorre. I'm not planning on killing any more nobles if I can avoid it!

I just want to get to the root of this...

...and then rip it all out.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Sixty-Six

Of course, if pacifying a region of its religious woes was an easy task, then they wouldn't have called on the Crown authority to do so. Still, after a few weeks most of the religious bonfires had been doused with firmness, and without using pyres and stakes. At most, a few charges of cavalry to break up unruly mobs, with the order not to bring out the swords while charging. Some might have been wounded, but they were quickly fixed afterwards. I wanted order in these lands, and I achieved it, even if I had to break some bones.

I took a deep breath and looked at the map a bit more. We would be getting close to the Saint Margarita convent on our way back -mostly because hey, why not check along the borders for any signs of trouble brewing while we return?- and I couldn't really pass up on such an occasion.

Nothing like bringing home a Child of Woe to give a drastic hit to Charles' political base. Admittedly, perhaps I should have felt shame at the thought of using a young girl as a political tool, but on the other hand, I wanted not only to ensure the alliance would remain stable, but also bring that poor girl back into the folds of the royal family. Even if that wasn't the case, I reckoned she could use knowing who she truly was.

And if all else failed, it would mean throwing Julio utterly off-track in seeking her out when he began looking for her, years yet to come by.

Still...ah, even then...to use a kid in such a horrible way-no, perhaps, I'd take a middle ground stance on the matter. Middle ground was good, wasn't it?

Thus, as Raven departed on his very important mission once more, it left me the time to write a very poignant letter that would be absolutely crucial in achieving a middle ground worthy of notice.

Hopefully, he'd do things properly. A few hours later, and I felt a sense of elation and wonder. Raven had found his target -a young girl with silver hair, standing inside a church-like room praying to the Founder with all of her strength. The comparison with Charlotte was pretty profound, all things said. Yet, there were also distinct differences. The silver-hair was the most telling, but the lineaments were slightly harder, perhaps not as much food into her belly as that which the daughter of a Duke might have, but still she wasn't malnourished. No, she just wasn't getting everything she deserved, everything she could have.

"Hello," I blinked as I heard Raven speak, his voice smooth, his heart beating with joy. I could feel it, a lot of emotions that twisted inside my familiar's heart were echoing my own. There was a soft gasp, and the young girl turned around. She looked with wide eyes at the raven as large as a small dog, and then made a shoo-shoo gesture. Raven simply hopped closer to her. "Hello," Raven said again.

"Ah!" Josette, for that was the girl's name, let out a small startled cry and fell on her back, eyes wide as she stared at the talking bird. "It talks!"

"I'm Raven!" Raven chirped, "Nice to meet you!" There you go, Raven, do as I told you. "Want to be friends?"

"H-Hello," Josette said. "I am...I am Josette, Mister Raven," she said politely, pushing herself back on her feet and kneeling to be at the same height as Raven. "Are...are you magical?" she asked in a soft, awed whisper.

"I'm a familiar!" Raven cawed, flapping his wings. "My master is a nice person!" he said again. "I love him!" oh now, Raven...you're going to make me blush.

"Oh! Is your master here?" Josette asked, her eyes wide. "Is he...is he looking for someone?" there was hope in her voice, such earnest hope that made my heart drum. Don't worry little girl, even if it's the last thing I do, even if you might kind-of hate me for ruining your family's political position, I'll bring you back to the folds of your true home! Seriously, this is just the greatest thing ever, don't you think? Don't you-

"You!" Raven cawed, "My master is looking for you!" Raven! What part of keeping quiet about it-

"Me!?" Josette shot up on her feet, "He's looking for me!?" she clutched the small figurine around her neck, "He's-he's my father?" Misunderstandings ahoy! Raven, why the hell-

"He's coming! Later tonight!" Raven cawed, "Keep quiet!" he added, finally returning on track. "Don't let anyone know. He can't show his face."

"He...he can't?" Josette blinked, her voice wavering until she finally whispered out, "Is he...is he a criminal?"

"Can't tell!" Raven said, flapping his wings. "Tonight-out of your window, leave a piece of cloth hanging! I'll come with him!"

Then he flapped his wings and flew out swifter than before, pushing his wings to the greatest of speeds to return to his master for head-pats, head-scratches, and lots of belly rubs. I blinked, and interrupted the connection, feeling pride in my familiar for being such an awesome creature. Truly, he was too good for me, but I loved him all the same. I began to chuckle, looking up at the sky. The town of Anjou was across the County of Brittany, on the way back home to Lutece, but since we were done I had decided to magnanimously grant everyone a day of rest.

Unspoken was the fact I had planned it so that I'd have the ability to leave at my leisure come nightfall.

The guards protected me from threats coming from outside, but how could they stop me if I made one of them fall asleep? The snoring guard by my door propped up against it with his arms crossed -and a bit of a spell on his trousers to keep them hard and him up- was just the finishing touch, like my Manticore waiting for me outside the window at the end of the hallway -there was a knight patrolling outside the street where the window of my inn went to, with a few musketeers standing at attention behind him.

Even then, I simply flew outside and then I was off, Freedom quietly making his way through the night sky. The poor beast would need his rest sooner than later, but for tonight, he'd make an effort. Raven was softly snoring in my arms, the moons up in the sky beautifully casting their lights over the countryside we soared through, on our way to the Saint Margarita convent.

From the outside, the monastery was quite the forgotten place, cast upon a mountain and left there in the solitude of the harsh winds. It was a fortress that would be difficult to breach, if someone actually took care of manning the walls. Honestly, if I hadn't known where to look, I would never have thought about this place. Yet, here I was, and as I circled it, Raven woke up and flapped his wings, moving in turn to draw nearer, silent like the wind itself.

I dismounted Freedom, using a Flight spell to directly soar behind Raven, who had already found the piece of cloth tied outside a small window made of iron bars with the glass shutters open towards the inside. I blinked as I saw a small face stare at me with wide eyes.

"D-Dad?" she whispered, her eyes tearing up.

"Open the door to your room and wait for me," I whispered before bringing my index finger to my lips, and then flew upwards, reaching for the inside of the courtyard and directing myself to where I felt the rooms could be. I moved quietly, not wishing to wake up -or having to explain myself- to the abbess of the place. Amidst rows of similar doors, only one stood slightly ajar, and as I stepped inside, I found myself forced to hold the ground against an onslaught of a small body tackling my stomach with the same strength Louise might have exerted during one of her tag-games.

"Dad! Dad!" she was crying. Josette was preciously crying like any eight years old might be about the presence of her father finally entering her life after years of being an orphan. I didn't waste time. Holding her tightly with one arm, the ancient and most refined method of the Gramonts was soon used to bring us both out of there in a jiffy. When entering a prison, be quiet, but when leaving it-well, there weren't any flying guards who could follow us, so there was no need to be quiet once the package had been secured.

Josette did not immediately notice she was no longer inside her cell room because she had her face pressed against me, but she did start to scream the moment she realized she was high in the air, held by one of my arms on my lap, while beneath us both a manticore flew the fastest it had ever flown aided by my Wind Magic of Uneven Distribution -a nimble wind spell that made things lighter, while keeping them just as strong as ever.

"We're flying!" Josette yelled, "We're flying!" she screamed as she held on for dear life.

"We are," I said calmly, "Please don't scream it anymore in my eardrums, Josette."

"You know my name!" Josette said suddenly, smiling brightly the next. "Of course you know my name, father!" she laughed gingerly, giggling with pure joy. "It's such...such a beautiful day-" she began to sniffle, "This must-it's not a dream, is it? Are-are my prayers finally coming true?"

In answer, I used my free hand to pinch her cheek. She emitted a sharp verse of discomfort, and I let go the next moment. "There," I said. "You're awake."

I really should get around to telling her I wasn't her real father, but that could wait for the time when we landed -and I couldn't really waste time at the present. I had a tight schedule, one that I had to keep at all costs if I didn't want troubles down the way.

Raven suddenly sprinted faster than Freedom, heading to wake up the crux of the matter.

...

All things said, I was sure mother was a big softy inside.

She'd understand if I explained things properly.

After all, I was just bringing over as a sort of political hostage-but-not-really-a-hostage the twin sister of the daughter of the Duke D'Orleans. Clearly, with the troublesome rumors about succession, the right thing to do in the name of the crown of Tristain was to bring her somewhere she'd be safe and yet still be of use if the situation arose where she'd be used.

...

Yeah, I was going to be dodging Cutter Tornadoes before the end of the night.

On the plus side, border patrols between Gallia and Tristain, while not exactly lax, did not account on someone to be mad enough to soar the sky at speeds that were definitely beyond human. I was simply a dot, rushing by, aboard the Freedom Mach One Airline Express.

Nothing to see here, patrol knights, nothing at all.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Mother was not pleased, judging by how Raven felt the need to hide in the darkest corner of the courtyard, but she was present. She hadn't killed my familiar, and she hadn't woken up her husband. I landed in a hurry, Josette's asleep form -the hours it had taken to cross the border and reach the Valliere land had taken their toll on her- in my arms as I neared my mother's form, her face showing increasing surprise as she realized what I was holding in my arms.

"Henry Philippe-" she began, her hair rising to unforeseen heights, the wind gathering around her frame.

"It's a long story," I whispered, "And I don't have time to explain it," I added, outright thrusting Josette from my arms into those of Karin, who actually was so shocked by the development that she automatically grabbed the child, blinking in perplexity in the meantime as her hair dropped and the winds ceased to gather. "Here's a letter explaining everything," I said, placing it very swiftly in the pocket of her dress. "Have to go. Read the letter first. Sorry, love you mom," and with that said, I ran back to my manticore and rushed my way through the sky, my heart drumming a thousand miles per hour as I would barely manage the feat in time, even if now I could easily give every ounce of my willpower to the spell of Uneven Distribution, since I no longer had a passenger to hold tight.

With the newly found speed, it was with the dawning of the day that I landed Freedom back in the stables of the inn of Anjou, hopped off it, and then made my way most valiantly to the nearest open baker to grab some baguettes and some croissants.

Shamelessly, I then stepped on the road where the lonely knight had patrolled most of the night.

"Y-Your grace!" the knight in charge of patrolling the road outside my window stared at me aghast, skin white in pure fright. "You are-"

"Here," I said, handing his slack-jawed face a croissant. "Eat and be merry." I smiled, and then munched on a croissant as I handed over baguettes to the rest of the commoners before stepping inside with a humming tune.

Inside, Lord Castlemorre had just woken up, and was in the process of having breakfast with the rest of the knights -even the one I had knocked asleep was there, acting as if nothing wrong had happened throughout the night.

"Your grace!" Lord Castlemorre said as he saw me enter, standing up together with the rest of the knights, "We didn't hear you come down-the servants-"

"Oh, it is fine, it is fine," I said with a huff. "I went outside earlier for a bit of fresh air, got those poor soldiers and knights standing guard all night something to eat. Before being a prince, I'm also a man who knows what it's like to do one's duty without receiving any thanks for it," I yawned, "Though I wish you'll forget all about my morning escapade, Lord Castlemorre. The most delicious smell of freshly baked bread just couldn't hold me any longer. Why-I commissioned the baker to bring the bread to the rest of the men outside the city. I'm sure they'd love something fresh as thanks for having done such an egregious job under my command."

I took a seat with the rest of the knights, who looked properly awkward one with the other, not really knowing what to say. "Now," I said with a smile, before another yawn caught me. "I think I'll sleep a couple of hours until we depart. Anyone wants a croissant?" as I took the tasty treat out of the bag the baker had given me, the rest of the knights stared at me aghast and shocked, surprised even. "No?" I huffed. "Pity." And then I took a bite, and it was truly delicious.

By the time a servant normally cut one of these for you, even if they were already baked, they'd get cold. Also, the jam when freshly put was completely different if you could choose the quantity -and it was quite the generous serving- rather than just let a servant spread it evenly.

This was bliss.

They should be thankful that in my morning sleep-deprived brain the idea of coming in with baguettes and croissants had effectively crossed my mind.

Also, I loved myself a hot croissant.

Go sleep-deprived me, it's from the times of IT-foolery that I haven't seen you around. What wonderful ideas do you have in mind? Nothing? Well, that's fine. Guess we'll just sleep later.

Between sleeping on the back of Freedom, Freedom himself walking while half-asleep, and Raven having remained behind, the trip back to Lutece was thankfully long enough to stabilize my sleeping schedule once more. Though the knights suggested we hurry in going back, I refused.

Even if the job was done, leaving the army to return by itself, or under someone else's command was irresponsible. I had to accompany it.

Raven's emotions were a roller-coaster on the other hand, mostly due to Karin deciding to throttle him since she couldn't throttle me in person -or so I was led to believe, since I never quite did catch mother in the act.

"What you did was foolish," Karin spoke to my familiar, and I saw it happen -heard it too- the day after I delivered Josette to her. "This letter-how much of it is serious and how much it isn't-no, even if I do believe you, because you wouldn't lie, this sort of thing...maybe this is how royals do politics, all of this treachery and cutthroat means-but I grew you better than this, Henry," she exhaled softly, a hand over her chest. "It's not like I expected much. Maybe a letter or two a month? Instead you sent me something like this-what am I supposed to do with it? My little Henry!" oh, so Raven had begun transmitting even before Karin had told him to. Truly, my familiar couldn't be so devious, and yet so fluffy!

"Of course I'll take care of the child, but going as far as writing down in detail all of her cover-no, she's a ward of the Valliere family. We found her in an orphanage, and we took her in because she showed traces of magic. That's it. Your father will be told of your letter, but truly-to even come up with such a convincing backstory-a lie for the servants, a lie for the nobles and a lie for your sisters-just how many lies did you plan?! I didn't teach you to lie this much! Whoever taught you that? It must be the mad prince, right? He's a bad influence over you," Karin clenched her fists, "Why! If I were there I'd ensure he wouldn't be able to corrupt you any longer! But I'm not, and you're all alone in that foreign country, all scared and worried and surrounded by people that hate you and...and...my little Henry!" she sniffled, a handkerchief against her face. "No, no, Karin-you must be strong. Hold on. Take a deep breath-now," she narrowed her eyes, "Familiar? You can begin sharing your vision with your master."

"Done already!" Raven cawed sweetly, before flapping his wings and flying out of the window.

Karin, at a final glance, looked like a stone statue. She looked just like one of those stone statues that have been told the secret of life, and thus crack in answer to hit.

The next second, I felt true fear in the heart of my familiar.

...

The familiar resembles the master, or the master resembles the familiar?

Truly, a mystery that I would never know.

Fight on, Raven.

Fight on.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Sixty-Eight

The return to Lutece wasn't accompanied by fanfare, but then again it didn't have to be. Once the army was disbanded, I made my way with the Rose Parterre knights back to the palace of Grand Troyes. While the sky was clear, and fluffy white clouds sailed by, Raven's shaking presence was a constant on my lap. The poor bird had seen things that had made him review most of his life, and some of his feathers had even turned white.

Yet, he still stood somewhat proud of his actions.

My entrance into the royal gardens was met with peculiar sumptuousness, as if somebody had given the order for all of the servitude to be ready to welcome me back. I could hazard a guess, but it would be an easy victory considering the prime suspect was waiting for me at the far end of the line of servants welcoming me back.

"My dear Isabella," I said with a bow, kneeling to kiss her hand, "I have returned whole and hearty."

"We are glad for it," Isabella said, somewhat puffing her chest up in pride. The royal We? Uh, I wondered what other changes there had bee during my absence. "We have much to discuss, my Henry." And with that, we linked arms.

I had a bad feeling.

"I-We have received many letters," Isabella said, "some of our most secret spies-"

"The knights of the Rose Parterre," I pointed out. "I know. I overheard them talk about it one night."

Isabella blinked, and then coughed trying to regain her composure even as we reached for the upper floors, and for the room that was apparently meant for Pleasantly chatting while enjoying the tea. or the coffee. "Be it as it may," she said, "I decided to send father a letter," she continued, "asking permission to host a great ball for your success in pacifying the County of Brittany." She gave me a tiny smile, her eyes twinkling. "He agreed!" she continued, this time excitedly as there were far less servants in the room than outside of it. "So, in two months' time, we'll be holding a ball in Petite Troyes. I took the liberty of inviting some nobles-"

I nodded, and for the most part simply held up a smile. I was sure Isabella was gently distracting me while her father queried the rest of my retinue about the progresses. It was kind of sneaky, but it was something I'd do myself.

Then, we'd have a nice drink and under the influences of alcohol, he'd try to pry stuff out of me. Funnily enough, even under the effects of alcohol I didn't have loose lips.

"You look tired, my Henry," Isabella said. "Perhaps you should go rest a bit."

"I do have a meeting with your father sometime today," I answered back. "Whenever a servant will come fetch me, I suppose," I exhaled. "Though I could use some coffee."

A servant, as if called by the divine hand of the gods, somehow stepped inside the room with a pitcher of the stuff piping hot and ready to be served. Isabella simply smiled, grabbing a small silk hand fan and coyly smiling while fanning herself. If only she wasn't making a fool of herself by fanning from left to right while holding on to the most adorably earnest expressions -like, she was seriously concentrating on getting the fanning down.

Still, she had the coffee made for me, so I would not laugh at her, but simply smile.

"Ah, thank you my dear Isabella," I said with warmth as I took a long sip of the beverage in question. "So, how have your days been?"

"Absolutely hectic!" Isabella exclaimed, making me blink in surprise. "The tailors really couldn't understand a word I said this week. Is it that hard to be make some clothes that can portray both hope and self-regret? Is it too much to ask for a decent jewel-smith? Why! I began planning on getting myself a new pair of rings to sport-and earrings, but alas, asking for someone with a bit of skill around these parts-"

I smiled. "You always act like that whenever you're worried," I said with a chuckle. "You shouldn't have worried so much."

"I wasn't worried. Nonsense!" Isabella scoffed, but her cheeks reddened. "I just had other things in my mind, so my patience was a bit thin!" I hummed without committing anything, taking a few minutes to enjoy and bask in the afterglow of the caffeine, a smile on my lips.

A few hours later, and a servant did come to fetch me.

Joseph had four bottles of wine in front of him, and as I took a seat opposite of him at the table -where a goblet rested- he smiled. "Took you long enough," he said with a huff. "I've got these four bottles in store since the gods know when-bought them years ago, they've aged pretty well-" at a gesture, a servant neared and opened the first. "Something dry to begin with? I had expected to see the countryside ripe with blood, so-imagine my surprise when I found out it wasn't! Now what am I going to do? People always expect more from people who actually deliver."

I shrugged. "I could have done a poor job and burned more people than not, but I'm sure they got the lesson down, at least for a few years." My goblet was filled soon after, and as we both raised it for a toast, we took long sips in turn.

"I expected to hear of your drunken exploits, but you held yourself in a comparatively boring way," Joseph said with a huff. "The wine of Brittany was not to your tastes?"

"I drink for the company, mostly," I hummed. "And the wine, but the company is a definite plus," I shook my head. "I knew those sticks in the mud wouldn't have a glass with me no matter if I asked or ordered them, so I didn't bother."

Joseph laughed, and then had another glass poured for him. "I've already been told everything that happened. A bit of firm hand, some blood, no fires though, I think I told you to go wild."

"Even if you tell me something like that, I won't burn people to their deaths. Kill them? Perhaps. Execute them? If they're wrong. But burning people-it's a torture they can go without most of the time. Death should be quick and to the point. Also, you have new lands under direct control," I pointed out.

"I didn't want them, so I handed them to someone who could make use of them better than me," Joseph shrugged, and my eyebrows rose. "Why, did you want them?"

"No thanks," I replied with a scoff. "I'm fine as I am. I did a brief stint ruling over a fief in my father's land. It was enough. I do like the military though," I pointed out. "Do I get to keep the baton, or must I give it back?"

"Keep it, one marshal, two marshals-a hundred marshals-as long as I don't have to be the one worrying about it, do whatever you want with it. Scratch your back if you so wish," Joseph said with a huff.

"I was thinking about testing military improvements actually," I said nonchalantly. "Might need a few soldiers, and equipment."

"Funds too?" Joseph asked.

"Oh, I've got those. As Prince of Gallia, apparently I receive quite the large stipend. I've mostly left it there untouched, but if I have to choose on what to spend it, well-why not in stuff that can make my country better?"

"Your country?" Joseph asked once more, a smile on his lips.

"I did tell you, didn't I? I grew up with the Rule of Steel, thus, I am a member of the nobility of Gallia, and I will follow the Crown of Gallia, no matter what happens," I acquiesced.

Joseph laughed as he took a sip of his goblet, "And what if the crown of Gallia turns out to be my brother's? Unless the marriage's consummated, you might be called back," Joseph pointed out, and to that I simply nodded.

"Indeed, I might be called back," I answered truthfully, "And if I won't answer, then my family would be shamed, or perhaps thrown in disgrace. On the other hand, this worry is unnecessary, because you will be King."

"Empty words means nothing, I hope you understand that," Joseph said plainly. In answer, I simply chuckled.

"I'll wait until the day comes then to make a decision, and if it doesn't, if you're made king as I think it will happen, then I expect something in return for having believed in you -even when you didn't believe in yourself to begin with," I said, and drained my goblet.

"You like taking risky gambles then," Joseph said with a thoughtful expression on his face, "But fine-I'll accept your words, especially because they're quite novel. Usually people believe in me without being upfront about expecting something in return. Your honesty is quite refreshing, Henry."

"Your lack of care about how much I drink, or how I talk to you is your refreshing attribute, Joseph," and as I raised my newly filled glass, and Joseph did the same for his, we both exchanged a cheerful cheer.

"To wine!"

Nothing else needed to be said.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Sixty-Nine

A year went by, and while the palaces of Petite Troyes and Grand Troyes became intimately familiar, nothing worthy of notice happened during that time. Isabella seemed to enjoy taking trips, but her definition of trips implied bringing with her half of the servants of the palace, and twice the amount of stuff she'd normally have. On one side, it was her money she was happily burning away, on the other, it was pretty clear that perhaps she was compensating her lack of parental affection.

I wasn't going to do a single thing about it, though.

Again, if Marie Antoinette wants the commoners to eat cake because they're starving, then indeed, I'd intervene, but until then she had her allowance, and if she wasted it on trifling things it was her right to do so.

And while she went on trips to visit her little cousin, to meet with distant family members, to holy places of worship, I took care of my pet projects.

"Six rounds per minute, your grace-that's impossible," the officer that told me that was one of those Fallen Nobles. A young man that didn't have enough money to live his life leisurely, and thus had to work. He had received an education though, and decided to put it to good use in the military. Differently from a knight, he didn't have the money to buy his own equipment, and thus the stipend he received covered his expenses and little more.

"Nothing is impossible," I said offhandedly. "Marching and shooting?"

"It's a work in progress. Though if I may ask-I've noticed we have no pikemen-"

"Because they are the past," I said quite calmly, "The future, Mister Custeaux, lies in firearms."

A squadron of horsemen did the rounds, the horses sometimes neighing as the sordid crackling of firearms went off near them. Even then, the men riding them pulled their reins back, forcing the horses to keep their speed all the same. The crackling noise was mimicked by wing-like wooden protrusions on the back of the armored knights, and the horse breed picked had been chosen for its endurance, rather than its speed.

The large courtyard in which the men trained had been built in a couple of months, the recruitment for a fixed army had been pushed into the street, and while people hadn't exactly flocked to it, I had enough for a trial run.

Men from the countryside seeking their place in the glory of the Founder's light by following a noble, fallen nobles being told it was all right to enter the military and perhaps make a career out of it, even if their familiar wasn't a dragon, hell, the recruitment was open to citizens of other countries, just as long as they swore fealty to the Crown of Gallia, its people, and its army first.

Honestly, the political part of Gallian cutthroat politics hadn't touched me, because I had decided not to play the game. You can't really touch someone who doesn't want to be part of the game, and since I had no lands of Gallia under my name, and was good only as a trophy husband, the only people that neared me were those that Isabella rebuffed, and if she rebuffed them, there was a reason.

My wife's political acumen was second to none. She might have been kind of a failure in the magic department -she most aristocratically decided to not comment on her achievements- but you couldn't fool her, no matter how much you honeyed your words and tried to make your bid for power look like a decent thing to do for her benefit too.

I was pretty sure the knights of the North Parterre had been given to her, but I had no proof, and since she never mentioned anything of the sort, I didn't bother with pointing it out.

Also, I commissioned myself a ship.

I really wanted to dub it the S.S Angst, but I didn't think it would fly with the rest of the court-ah, the pun!

"The Night Wind is halfway done," I said, "but it shall be completed in a matter of months."

"I want to visit it," Isabella said, a smile on her face. "You hired the best ship builders, my Henry, so it must be a beautiful thing-"

I chuckled, and shook my head slightly. "Not really. I asked for it to work, not to be pretty. Honestly, the ship builders themselves were ecstatic. There's not a single gold ornament, or unnecessary trinket on it. The cannons are imported directly from Albion-"

"Speaking of Albion," Isabella said, "I was planning a vacation there, to enjoy the fresh air of the mountains while staying near a lake-we won't be guests of anyone, there won't be any politics involved so-if you'd like to accompany me..."

I smiled, "I'd love to accompany you, my dear."

Isabella actually gave me an earnest smile, and giggled happily. "You were saying about the cannons, my Henry?"

I nodded, and resumed my discussion. "They're rifled within-" I didn't go into the technicalities, but Isabella was still bored of it, even if she preciously did her best to feign interest. She really was an earnest kid, if one ignored the amount of money she spent on stuff she wouldn't touch with a finger the next day.

Though she did always have a gift ready, so perhaps she bought things not just for herself, but to gift to other people?

That thought came to mind when I saw little Helene -Charlotte Helene, but little Helene was the nickname that Isabella used for her- strut around with a pair of pearl earrings I was pretty sure that Isabella had bought weeks prior. She had probably thrown a tantrum that she couldn't have her ears pierced as her cousin, and Isabella had placated her like that.

Truly, the crown Princess of Gallia couldn't be this cute.

On the other hand...

Albion.

The situation was taking the plunge in the city. The discovery of an elf mistress had thrown the Archduke of Albion into shambles, not just reputation-wise, but also life-wise. He had been killed by rioters, his mistress too and while there was no mention of a daughter, it was obvious that Tiffania had escaped unharmed and was in hiding right now.

People went on vacation to forget about their troubles.

I went in vacation to find troubles.

...

Something was wrong about this picture, wasn't it?

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Seventy

The ship The Pretty Princess was a large galleon meant for royalty on vacation to use to carry everything they might need during their time away from home. It could easily hold a small division of knights, their dragons, and the servants needed for the royal family -as well as supplies for an extended vacation lasting months.

The country of Albion was called The White Country for a reason, least of all because of the fluffy white clouds that adorned it, and the beautiful delicacy of its white wines. Still, as I stared from the far end of the deck at the land growing closer, my arms were held behind my back, my posture straight.

"Your grace," a knight of the Lily Parterre drew near, bowing graciously as I turned to look at him. "Her highness wishes to see you."

I nodded, and followed silently. Isabella enjoyed trips, but she apparently suffered from air sickness. She did her best not to let it show, but it was clear she was holding back the desire to let her breakfast leave her stomach.

"Henry," she groaned, "Do something," she mumbled as soon as we were left alone in the room, even the servants having been excused. "I'm going to show a horrible side of myself if I can't control my stomach."

I tapped my chin, and then nodded. "Well, isn't that why we brought Princess along?" Princess being the name of Isabella's manticore, even though the magical beast had been used a scant few times, while atop it Isabella didn't feel airsick -mostly because I was the one actually riding the manticore, with her on my lap. "I'll use a spell to take away your airsickness for the time being," I continued, calmly taking her left arm and seeking the point along the arm, much to her suddenly blushing face. "Here we go," I said, as I lightly began to press it. "Tell me when you start feeling better."

"This-this close," she mumbled, her face utterly crimson. "I-Oh-" she held her other hand to her mouth, and then, unfortunately, I showered in her breakfast.

...

Well, as far as vacations went, this one was going swimmingly well.

Fortunately, while there wasn't a real spell against airsickness, there was a spell to clean oneself up and appear presentable, and also one to perfume oneself. These, of course, belonged to the Gramont family since generations before, but Anthoine had been a good sport and had shared them with me. The poor guy was getting whipped by his family, Henriette and her dragon, and so he found some form of vindictive pleasure in sharing the secrets of his Gramontian heritage to his friends.

Something about Spreading the way of life of the Gramonts to make it so common, it won't be considered as sinful as 'fooling around'.

On one side, I didn't really approve. On the other, it was Anthoine's life, not mine.

Isabella was crying amidst hiccups, even as the damage had already been removed. "Now, now," I said with a sigh, "It's a bit of my fault too. Should have brought a basin," I rubbed her head gently, even as she was practically sobbing on the floor.

"N-No it's not," Isabella mumbled, "It's m-my fault. I was nervous, and this-this sort of things-they don't happen to others-I w-wanted to show a c-cute side, not...not this! Never this!" I conjured a metal washbasin within seconds, and into it Isabella most gratefully retched once more.

"Calm down, dear, calm down," I said, gently patting her back and holding her hair away from the vomit. "It's all right. Everyone has their weaknesses-"

"Mine make a long list," Isabella mumbled in tiny whimpers. "If it were up to me alone, I'd be forced to call a servant for a bucket," she clutched the edges of said bucket, "You must pity me, don't you?"

"Nah, never," I said calmly. "Pity, I reserve to those who are stuck in a life they cannot change by the cruel hands of fate. Whenever I look at you, I instead feel pride," I spoke gently. "When one is given a bad hand at a card game, he could fold, or he could keep on playing regardless, hoping for the best. Even though, out of a hundred games, he might lose ninety or more-the decision to never stop playing, to keep on hoping-that's what great courage is, in my mind." I grinned. "So, it doesn't matter. Even if you can't handle it, even if you fail, just as long as you've tried I'll never stop feeling proud of my wife."

Isabella gasped, and turned crimson red with such intensity that I could see vapor leave her ears -well, not really, but I liked to imagine my words had achieved that sort of effect.

Then, of course, she retched once more.

By the time the ship docked, the gentle swaying turbulence had mostly abated, and Isabella looked ready -and with a mint in her mouth, there was no smell that could be detected if not by the finest of noses.

Welcoming us into the port of Rosais -the port closest to the capital, but south of it at least a few hundred leagues- was the noble in charge of the area. Mostly, he thought to ingratiate himself to foreign royalty, but once more, it wasn't up to me to deal with him...even though I felt inclined to, just so to allow Isabella to rest for a bit.

"Earl de Rosais, Wilhelm the Brave, at your service, your highness," he spoke with a profound bow. "I would be honored to show you the way to your residence-"

"We would be glad," I spoke first, my arm linked to that of Isabella as I patted the back of her hand gently. "Unfortunately, I have had a bit too much to drink on the way here, thus...a carriage will be best."

The plan had been to use flying creatures to show from way up high the beauty of Albion, or at least, that was how Isabella had programmed it. Sparing her the suffering of another air trip -even though she might not feel airsick- was perhaps better.

The Earl understood and bowed, before rushing off to get a carriage prepared, even as the knights that surrounded us most aptly did not remark on how I had absolutely not touched even a single bottle of wine during the trip -and they knew that, because since my small escapade with baguette and croissants, apparently every single knight of the Parterre had been told of my marvelous ability of slipping out of their guard, and Isabella had sworn swift retribution on whoever lost me from their sights.

Seriously, how can I go be an underhanded rogue if I get stalked by burly men in armor?

Isabella said nothing, but she did tighten her hold a bit on my arm. Once inside the carriage, the doors closed and the Earl spearheading the trip with his wind dragon, the rest of the knights of the Lily Parterre escorting us by air and land, I exhaled in relief and took a deep breath of the port town of Rosais.

Imagine being atop a high mountain.

Now, imagine being atop a high mountain, with the smells of Venice inside your nostrils.

Not only is it jarring, to smell both mountain and sea at the same time, but imagine the temperature to be quite colder than what you expect it to be.

My eyes glanced from the window to the fidgeting Isabella, who seemed to be taking small breaths to calm herself.

"Is everything all right, my dear?"

"Why did you say that, my Henry?" Isabella replied. "I am reasonably sure you did not drink anything."

I smiled. "It was the first excuse that came to mind," I acquiesced. "You wished to fly?" I asked next, frowning slightly.

"No," Isabella said, shaking her head. "But I would have used a better excuse, like my hair falling out of order," she huffed. "Later today, after we've rested and if I feel like it, we will be going out on a flight, won't we?"

I nodded, "Of course, my dear, of course."

Isabella grinned, and then began to excitedly look out of the window of the carriage. "Hey, by the way," she said suddenly, "Where did your familiar go?"

"Oh," I replied nonchalantly. "He's out and about. Sometimes, I let him fly and share his vision, just so I can take in new things from way up high."

Isabella's eyes widened, and then she gave me the sort of look of a child wanting a toy from a shelf, "I-I wish I could do the same," she said in the end, "but..."

A familiar was an extension of a mage, as such, royals weren't really in the habit of summoning familiars. Mostly, it was a matter of avoiding scandals. If the royal king of Tristain summoned a horse, then it would be a proud and noble steed, but if he summoned a donkey...then, of course, in order to avoid troubles it was generally thought that royals shouldn't summon their familiars. They were privately tutored, and with the knights guarding them, and servants willing to follow their every whims, they didn't need familiars to go fetch them ingredients or things like that.

"It's all right," I said with a grin. "I'm sure if you ever did summon something, you'd summon something incredibly beautiful."

Again, my Italian heritage was scoring points. I was pretty sure there was a set of ka-chink sounds coming from within the heart of poor Isabella, but what could I say?

I quietly tuned in on Raven's sight, my familiar flying towards the Westwood area. Differently from the monastery, which was a point on a map, the area of Westwood and the forest it held was big. While the village of Westwood was a landmark not difficult to miss, finding a lonely house amidst trees was.

How old was Tiffania anyway? Considering that Louise was eleven, then it meant Tiffania was...ten? And what about Mathilda? Mathilda of Saxe-Goetha...she was one year younger than me, thus...nineteen? Twenty? A teenager, having to take care of a ten year old half-elf in this sort of place...but she did appear in Tristain, acting as a fairy maiden, but in truth looking for easy prey among the Tristain nobility that frequented such an establishment.

Had she already formed the persona of Fouquet? And if not, then would I actually find them in that forgotten hut in the woods yet?

Perhaps coming back later might be for the best, but still, knowing where to look the second time would make this all the easier.

Suddenly, something heavy hit my leg, making me blink away from the shared vision and back into the pouting face of Isabella, a small scepter in her hand which doubled as her wand. "You are doing that, aren't you?" she mumbled, "Sharing the vision of your familiar, rather than looking at me-I'm jealous!" she huffed, "You'll have to make me forgive you, my Henry! Such rude behavior in the presence of such a cute princess is unacceptable, do you hear me? Unacceptable!"

"Now, now," I said with a light chuckle, gesturing at her with my left hand, "Come here, my dear."

Isabella blushed, before preening herself up a bit and drawing closer, her eyes closed and her lips puckered for a kiss.

In answer, I simply rubbed her head gently.

"What a shameless princess I've married," I said with a chuckle.

Honestly, being pummeled by her scepter-wand wasn't that bad. She didn't have enough strength to hurt, and it made me simply laugh at the fact itself.

If things kept being this way, then perhaps...perhaps...

The world might enjoy everlasting peace.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Seventy-One


Albion was known as the White Country for a really obvious reason. Rather than rain, it snowed. This didn't mean that the island didn't have its rainy periods, or that the ground wouldn't get wet. No, it meant that sometimes, clouds were directly outside your window rather than over your head. In turn, this gave the country the apt name of White Country.

Raven was still looking, taking his time to enjoy the nature of the place. Yet, it was clear that while the nobles lived with relative ease, the tension was there just below the surface. In a place as cold as this one, a bad harvest would mean a slow starving. It was obvious, it was so obvious it hurt-nobles fed on meat and delicacies, but the peasants survived on vegetables. Thus, the nobles were supposed to keep the weather mild and allow the crops to grow.

Yet, someone had began to sell wine, delicious white wine, and the idea had spread like wildfire. It didn't take a genius to understand that earning thousands of ecus was worth more than feeding one's own villages, or fiefs. If people were hungry, they could fish by the lakes -that was the excuse- but how could they fish by the lakes, if the lakes belonged to other nobles?

Thus, many commoners found themselves in the unfortunate position of having to choose between heading to a city to find work, or stay and work in their nobles' lands, but risk starvation for themselves, or their families.

The situation was still salvageable, but a peculiarly cold season-well, it would spell the doom of such a delicate balance, and bring forth many troublesome aspects to the fray. Especially if the nobles didn't intend on salvaging the situation.

"Take. That!" a snowball came my way, and I quietly broke it with my right hand, before answering with one of mine that unfortunately fell short from hitting Isabella. One of the servants soon gave her another flawlessly made snowball, and this time she did indeed hit me. "Ah! I hit you, Henry!" she laughed gingerly, harrumphing in her triumph. "I am currently winning, husband!"

I simply sighed, and nodded. Suddenly, the feeling of victory etched itself in my soul, and I stopped abruptly. "A moment," I said, hand raised as I shared Raven's vision. We were currently on one of the highest points of Albion, the villa nearby being our holiday residence in the White Country. Snow reached the ankles, courtesy of the valiant knights of Gallia who had the ungrateful task of creating said soft snow i order to bring winter to the otherwise spring-like weather of the area.

In this world, if a princess asked for snow to play snowball with her husband, then the knights duly obeyed. Poor men, forcing them under the spell of a magic mirror hadn't been enough, and now they were glorified snow-makers too.

Still, Raven had felt victory, and indeed he hadn't been wrong. Though there was a small wooden house, it was largely uninhabited, and thick vines had covered most of it. That was the place, but it was lacking in human presences of any kind.

Now came the hard part. Until they arrived, Raven would have to stay there and wait. They could come in a week, or in a month, but they had to come there eventually, so...when they did, Raven would be there to wait for them.

I exhaled in relief as I stopped the sharing of senses, Raven's pride filling his chest at the thought of just how important his job was right there and then.

"Just Raven entering in a scuffle with a local bird," I said as a way of explanation, "now it's solved-"

Two snowballs in rapid succession hit me squarely in the chest, as Isabella nonchalantly stretched in victory once more.

This time, in answer, my next snowball did not miss her.

"Why! You!"

My heart goes to you, unfortunate knights of the Lily Parterre, forced into this ungrateful task of crafting snow for snobbish royalty to enjoy yourself. I'm sorry I have to be a part of it, but rest assured-I'll buy each of you an Albion White wine as compensation for the services rendered...and as a way to beg forgiveness for the situation.

The pleasant vacation to Albion finished without problems, and just as we began to head back, I inwardly gave one last feeling of military salute to Raven. He, in turn, answered with firm resolution.

He'd wait there for as long as it took.

"Henry, I haven't seen your familiar around the palace for a while now," Isabella said a few days later, to which I replied with a small smile. She had noticed -then again, it was hard not to notice the lack of my feathered companion on my right shoulder, or in my arms. Since he was a part of my body, I was actually allowed to carry him with me wherever I wanted, in whatever way I wanted, and hug and pet him however much I wanted.

"Oh, he found a pretty nice miss raven," I said offhandedly, "So I gave him the freedom to pursue his own nest. If I need him, he'll come back flying, but-I guess I can give him some slack."

"Ah," Isabella said with a smile, and a sigh of relief. "If that is all...then, are you free this afternoon? Little Helene is coming over, and while her father must speak to mine, she'll be in my care-" she puffed her chest and head up in pride. "Being the older and wiser cousin-it's obvious I must take care of her. Auntie was busy, so she couldn't make it."

I furrowed my brows, and then grinned. "Of course," I said. "Although, I'm supposed to have a meeting with your father earlier today, so...it might end shortly, it might not," I grimaced, "But I promise I'll come and bid you goodbye in case I have to head somewhere quickly."

Isabella nodded, and then smiled, "Then I'll tell Charlotte that she'll finally know how the story of the Valiant Shield of mankind continues," she pouted. "You are unfair however-withholding the story even from your cute wife just because it wouldn't be fair! Why-" she shook her head with a giggle. "I'll go prepare the room and the servants for this afternoon. Perhaps the Zelkova room? Or the Sea Spirits one?"

While she spoke of rooms that had names I didn't even find worthy of remembering as she walked away, I looked out of the window.

Raven had indeed built himself a nest, and he was actually fending off the advances of a friendly crow that seemed to want to play with him more often than not. Unfortunately, there was still no trace of Tiffania or Mathilda, but then again, only weeks had passed since the vacation in Albion.

Weeks in which things proceeded smoothly, without snags or troubles-and yet, there had to be a pebble somewhere on the road.

It wasn't possible for things to go so smoothly.

"Something strange is going on," Joseph said later as he sent a servant to fetch, making me blink at his words as I sat in front of him, a bottle of red wine in front of me. "I have received news that a flock of Winged People is coming this way. Apparently, they're seeking the prince-consort."

I smiled gently, "Well, I did tell them if they wanted to relocate to come look for me."

"Dealing with firstborn users of Elven Powers-" Joseph shuddered, and shook his head as he drank his whole goblet in one go, "Bold strategy, Henry! Bold strategy indeed," he grinned. "But having that kind of magic on our side-well, it would be great. I approve. No, consider that I retroactively approve of it," he nodded, "Even though you made the deal without involving me, without even calling or considering me, but I'll accept it as a token of good will, meant to make the Crown stronger. To think you'd make deal with such heretical creatures-oh well," he shrugged. "Some nice land with thick forests and little people to bother them-ah, no, even better," he calmly brought out a piece of paper from the top of his desk. "Here you go, have fun."

I simply kept blinking throughout his entire fast-paced talking. Joseph seemed to be utterly happy about something, something I had no idea what it could be, something that definitely involved his brother-I stared down at the parchment. I widened my eyes. I looked back up at him.

"This is..."

"The title became vacant, so-there! It wouldn't do for someone to be a prince-consort without any land to his name! Well, what do you say!?" he laughed, and gingerly filled his glass once more. "Come on now! Have a drink, celebrate!" as Joseph laughed, I stared at the piece of paper in front me.

The Duchy of Brittany.

The entire Duchy of Brittany.

I was the new Duke of Brittany.

Duke Henry Philippe de Brittany de Gallia.

Of the whole Duchy of Brittany, most of the land was already split between the towns and the local Counts and Barons, but that which wasn't included rich port cities like St. Mallon, managed by local nobles, and...and much more. In space, it rivaled the entirety of the Duke de la Valliere lands. No, to be honest, it was definitely bigger.

"I will ensure this trust is not misplaced, your royal highness," I said firmly, clenching the parchment and raising my goblet up high in the air, "To Prince Joseph!"

"Indeed!" Prince Joseph laughed, "Ah! I'll tell you, honestly, perhaps a duchy might be too much, but today-today I am in a good mood! In a perfect mood!" he looked right and left, and then gestured for me to move closer. I blinked, and stood up to draw near. Though it was a breach of etiquette, none of the servants bothered looking scandalized or pointing it out.

"Do you know what my brother wrote me?" he said with a giggle, pulling out a letter from his sleeve. It appeared to have been read and re-read hundreds of times, and yet had the date of just a few days prior. "That he needs my help!"

I stared at the letter, "My brother, the Duke D'Orleans, the perfect, flawless brother-needs my help!" he exclaimed. "This-perhaps this makes me a bad brother, but...as the older one, certainly I'll help the younger one! Oh-you have no idea! This is something I've waited for years, years!" his smile and his laughter echoed once more even as he used his right arm to embrace my shoulder. "He has a plea to make to me! I'll hear it! I'll do something about it-to come to me in desperation, my brother must truly want something important!"

Joseph laughed as I kept a puzzled look. The letter, I couldn't read it because Joseph moved it up and down, right and left, and then put it back inside his sleeve, but still-it was obvious that whatever had happened, it had made him the happiest man in the world.

Oh well...

Nice to have Sane-Joseph aboard this train?

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Seventy-Two

Charlotte Helene D'Orleans did her best to look happy, but it was clear there was something eating her inside. Differently from the reserved Tabitha, this Charlotte was quite forward with her emotions. "Little Helene, come on," Isabella said with a huff, "Henry's schedule is full, but he took time today to continue his story, aren't you interested a bit in it?"

"I'm sorry," Charlotte mumbled, trying to put up a smile and failing miserably at that. I sighed, and then smiled gently, standing up from the chair and then getting down on one knee in front of the sorrowful-looking kid.

"Is something the problem?" I asked. "You're worrying Isabella like this," I added, glancing at the truthfully worried Isabella, who was sitting by Charlotte's side, her expression a frown of puzzlement. "If there is anything I can do..."

"Mother and father have been fighting," Charlotte said in the end, "They won't tell me what's wrong, but...mother's been crying nearly every night, I can hear her from my room." Oh, well, congratulations myself, you have successfully ruined a happy marriage. No, wait. They should have thought better than to send one of their twins into a monastery to be forgotten forever. Josette deserved better, and you gave her better.

Still, a sniffling Charlotte was not something nice to behold, and so I gingerly stood up and sighed. "I can try to find out what's going on, but even if I do, I can't guarantee it I'll be allowed to tell you." I hummed thoughtfully, "Still, I'll see what I can do. I'll continue the story another time."

"You're going to ask father?" Isabella asked, "If he's speaking with uncle, he won't let you inside."

I smiled. "I'll just blast the doors and claim that when a child is crying, then my soul burns with righteous indignation," I said with a grin, "Also, I know my wife wants to know the truth too, so...do I have your permission?"

Isabella raised her chin, and then hopped off her sofa. "This sort of thing-it's to be done together," and as she linked her arm to mine, she gave a warm smile towards Charlotte, "Don't worry, we will deal with this."

Somehow, I had the feeling we wouldn't. To be honest, Isabella didn't chicken out until she was in close proximity to the door itself, and while it was clear that the room was occupied, no sound left it. A spell to silence the doors had been cast, and judging by the servants standing outside in nervous wait, it was clear they had been excused. Guarding the door were two noble knights, who most calmly blocked the passage, a hand to the hilt of their swordwand, but otherwise peacefully standing in wait.

"To leave the servants out too," Isabella muttered, her eyes glancing over the commoners before returning to the door. "Henry, please open the doors."

"I don't think that will be possible, my dear," I replied, pointing at the knights, "Am I to assume the king gave the order to not be disturbed?"

"Yes, your grace," the guard to the right spoke plainly, with all of the respect he could muster in his tone. "We are terribly sorry, but by royal order of the acting regent-"

"That's right," Isabella said suddenly, raising her chin, "By order of the acting regent, but the reason we are here is by the King's order-although bedridden, grandfather wanted someone to go fetch his unseen youngest son-" she huffed, a hand to her chest, "So understand, I, acting in quality and under the orders of the King, have permission to override anything my father says. This, I swear to you and so too will my husband, the prince-consort."

I blinked, and then nodded. "Indeed, it is as my esteemed wife says."

The two mage knights looked at one another, and then grimaced. Well, it wasn't on their heads, and so they opened the doors to allow us entrance. The moment they did open the doors, silence fell in the room, even though it was clear that the Duke was barely recovering his composure, and Joseph was all smiles, which was perhaps the reason the Duke was, indeed, losing his composure.

"Ah! Isabella!" Joseph said excitedly, "Why are you here? We were just talking about you!" he grinned as he stood up, gesturing for the seats nearby and for us to sit at them, "Come now, brother. This is a family matter, so it involves the family-"

"Joseph, please," the Duke pleaded, and to that, Joseph closed the doors we had stepped through, before walking back to where both Isabella and I stood still transfixed by the bizarre scene. He actually stopped and smiled so beautifully it made me blink.

Apparently, Isabella had her father's smile, and this explained oh so very much about his charming ways that I actually had to wonder whether Isabella's forehead was instead a product of her mother, and if thus her mother was by comparison the ugly one in the relationship.

"I know brother, I know," he answered with the most magnanimous of voices, "However, this I must say. Isabella!" he extended both hands around his daughter's shoulders, "You are not the pathetic worthless daughter I thought you were!"

...

Honesty is the best policy, Joseph, but perhaps you could say things that sound less...demeaning? Seriously-tact, politeness, good things come to those who are polite with others, did nobody ever tell you that?

"At the very least, you were born properly. Though you killed your mother coming into this world, she at least birthed you without further complications!" as I stared, aghast, at Joseph' words, I understood why the people actually saw Charles as the better fit. "Perhaps I don't hate you as much as I thought I would!" Joseph was laughing, even though Isabella remained quiet, her skin pale and her breathing hitched and shallow, her eyes wide in a mixture of fright and hurt.

"Brother!" Charles exclaimed, scandalized in turn as he stood up, "That-that is quite unwarranted!"

I stepped forward, and plucked off Joseph's fingers from Isabella's shoulders. My right arm moved to snake around the back of Isabella, holding her close as I pushed her face against my chest, my glare viciously pointed at Joseph even as I clutched on tightly to the trembling girl that had lost her voice in that moment. "Just because you are happy, it doesn't mean you get the permission to make others feel miserable," I said plainly, locking eyes with the King-regent of Gallia. "Though royalty has the undoubted privilege of refusing duels, though I would not challenge you either way, know that this is the sort of offense I won't forget, Joseph."

"Oh, very well," Joseph said with a huff, shrugging and returning to his seat. "I was just telling the truth. Why is it that people find it so difficult and bothering to hear it?"

"Because the means by which truth is delivered can change the outcome of the revelation itself," I retorted sharply, "That you must turn your self-loathing into the loathing of others-that is the one thing wrong with you," I hissed. "Not the rest. You said these hurtful words because deep down, you're ashamed you're being happy about hearing of your brother's plea." I narrowed my eyes. "Solve your problems with your brother by yourself, but don't drag your daughter into the mud just so you can feel better knowing that in your misery, you have company, because I won't allow it!"

I clenched my left fist, bringing it up, "the next time you make my wife cry, even if I'll risk execution, I'll punch your teeth out one by one!"

"Is that so?" Joseph said with a smirk, "even if I'm the one who gave you the duchy? Even if you gave me your support?"

"And?" I hissed back, "Do you think the two things preclude one another? Do you want to know what a real parent does, when his child tantrums? He intervenes. He doesn't just stand there in a corner to watch how it ends. He doesn't simply hang around a foyer drinking wine. He ensures the lesson is learned. So, if words won't work, I'll use my fists. Because even punishments must be fair, so I won't use magic against you unless you'll be able to do the same-"

"Ah! Such unwarranted chivalry," Joseph snorted. "To hear myself being scolded by my son-in-law, as if I were a child...perhaps my outburst was unwarranted, but I won't apologize." He acquiesced quite surprisingly, flexing his fingers together as he hummed, "Still! Now that we are gathered, I suppose I can tell at the very least my daughter and her husband what the problem is," he tapped his fingers on the table, and then looked at the wine bottle in front of him. With a shrug, he grabbed it with his hand and uncorked it by using his teeth, before spitting the cork out on the floor and taking a deep gulp of the wine.

He pointed at his brother, Charles, who cringed at being the center of the attention.

"My youngest brother had twins!" he said cheerfully, "Congratulations, brother! Twice as much as usual!" he laughed, "and mother knew, that bitch!"

"Joseph! It's mother!" Charles hissed, "Have some respect for the deceased at least!"

"My mother," Joseph said with a pleasantly vibrant tone, "was the greatest bitch I ever had the decency to know." He sighed in relief as he spoke, as if unloading thousands of kilos of weight from his shoulders. "She was such a bitch, that she could not help but praise you over me," he continued. "All the time, all the time, nagging, and nagging, and saying things that made me wish you'd just fail somewhere so that I could rub it in your face that you weren't perfect!" Joseph snarled, "And now...now I realize this actually happened, and she knew, and she kept nagging at me even when she knew it wasn't true!" he slammed his free hand on the table, making Isabella jump and hold tighter to me.

He smiled. "I should go to her grave, dig her up, and then parade with her skull in my right hand," he mimicked the gesture, "Mother-thou are a bitch! The animal's graveyard is that way!"

"Enough!" Charles roared, slamming both hands on the side of the table and lifting his swordwand at the same time, pointed at Joseph. "Stop it this-"

My own swordwand came up the next second, deftly pushing Isabella behind me and swatting away that of Charles. His swordwand turned to point at me, just like mine pointed at him.

"Seeing you angry, Charles, warms my heart more than anything else," Joseph said with a soft voice, amidst the growing silence between myself and the Duke D'Orleans. "You have no idea how much emptiness I felt-how much my feelings were hurt by your perfect, flawless, unimpeachable mask-and now that it has cracked..." he exhaled loudly once more, "It is beautiful, brother. Truly-what I am feeling right now...bliss."

He smiled then. "So...you lost your other daughter, Charles! What are we waiting for? You, marshal of Gallia! You have a new order!" I blinked as I found myself being called into action directly. "Find the twin sister of my brother's daughter, and then bring her back to the palace! Scour every palace! Look into every lord's home! Every cellar! Every ditch! Take all the men! No, even better-levy the entire army!" he said sharply, before adding as if it was an afterthought, "Now tell the servants to come in and bring more wine-then my brother and I...we're going to talk. We have a lot to tell each other," he smiled, and it was a fond smile that made me think that perhaps, nobody would die by the end of the day.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it and holstered my swordwand once more.

"As you command, king Joseph!"

Then I sharply turned, and I walked outside while taking hold of Isabella's hands to bring her out together with me.

...

So, did I just receive permission to execute a Spanish Inquisition on every single noble of Gallia, with the full force of the army backing me?

...

Thank the gods I hid Josette in Tristain.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Seventy-Three

If you face a child with overwhelming power, they'll lock themselves up in a tiny ball, and refuse compliance. You need to gently nudge them, in order to achieve a result of sorts. The problem being that you can't wiggle some candy in the face of nobles that believe themselves to be adults, especially not when they have an army at the footsteps of their domains. Well, an army and a flying ship, to be precise.

"What do you mean he won't let us search his house?" I asked in the most neutral tone possible, the messenger actually balking as if thinking I was asking him a trick question.

"C-Count Balmorre said he would not allow such an abuse of his rights as a noble, and that he will not let us search his house," the messenger answered, the knight of the Rose Parterre actually wincing as he saw me stand up from my chair within the ship's captain quarters.

"He does know we have royal permission, does he not?" I remarked as I walked past the knight and onto the bridge, the knight following me and hastily nodding.

"Yes, your grace. He knows, but he claims that a regent has limits to what he can, or cannot do," as the knight said that, I stopped and raised an eyebrow in his direction, which made him falter briefly.

"You've been chosen to relay the message because you knew him," I pointed out. "So, what did he actually say?"

The knight cringed, "A lot of...words, your grace. He's been pretty vocal about-"

I nodded, and then walked to where Freedom stood basking in the sun, but swiftly got up on his paws the moment he smelled my presence by his side.

"Full broadside aimed at the castle," I said flatly to the second in command, who sharply stood to attention a few steps behind me and the knight in question, "I'll personally deliver the last warning," and with that said, I mounted aboard my manticore and flew off straight in the direction of the castle's walls, where nervous-looking servants were clutching on to bows and arrows. This wasn't really going to be a fight, as much as a slaughter if the noble didn't see the right to it.

"Oi!" I roared, "Where's your lord!?"

One of the archers dashed off the walls in an effort to find the man in question, and while he did that, I descended to be at the same level to the top of the walls. "So," I said to the closest archer, "How's life treating you?"

"U-Uh?" the archer swallowed, bowing profusely, "Y-Your excellency-"

"It's your highness," I said gently, "Prince-Consort of your crown-princess, kind of makes me royalty," I smiled as the archer in question widened his eyes, followed swiftly by the archers near him kneeling in turn faster than one could blink. "So, tell me good man, what's your lord hiding? Any interesting rumors you've heard?"

"A...ah," the commoner swallowed once more, quite noisily, before shaking his head. "N-No your excel-highness, nothing of the sort, Lord Balmorre is a great lord."

"Then, if he's a great lord, he's loyal to the crown, is he not?" I furrowed my brows, "And if he's loyal to the crown, then of course, he'd open the gates, won't he? But he hasn't given the order yet, so...he's hiding something," I nodded most wisely. "You see, I don't want to see blood here. I'd really like to have an earnestly honest talk. We're looking for something, or better yet someone, and we don't need to break everything in his castle if he just explains properly," I smiled. "But I guess there are things he can't say? Depending on what we might find, he might end up facing grievous charges. Now, if someone were to tell where to look, I might not have to look too much into other things. You understand?"

"Y-your highness, I am just a commoner, I don't know anything about-"

"He's got two bastards from the head maid," one of the nearby commoners spoke, "My wife heard it from the chef, and she told me that they are being educated in the ways of magic even though they're bastards, and he has a lawful son from his wife-"

I nodded, "Well, that's not something to worry over. We aren't looking for his bastards-"

"My grandfather used to work as a merchant," another archer spoke then, "He said the current lord's handling of the fief is a sham, that he leaves everything in the hands of an imbecile while he goes out drinking and whoring-"

"I heard that he had a relationship with the daughter of a priest!"

"I know that-"

By the time Count Balmorre arrived on the walls, I was pleasantly chatting away with the commoners that had gathered around me, those close by eager to make an impression, and those in the outer rings trying to see their future Prince-Consort, or what the ruckus was about.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Count Balmorre snapped, and hastily everyone rushed back to their posts, "What are you-" I patted the baton of the marshal with my left hand, holding it in plain sight with my right.

"Your grace," Count Balmorre said, nervously looking at me. "As I told your knight-"

"Count Balmorre," I spoke crisply, "whatever it is that you are hiding from the crown of Gallia, I care not," I exhaled. "We are looking for a particular person, and while I understand your reticence, both of the princes of Gallia are for once in agreement. I act with their combined blessing. I can do this the hard way, break your walls, shatter your castle, and murder everyone in this place that opposes the rule of the Crown," I sighed, "But I'd rather not have to. This...this doesn't please me, Count Balmorre. I really do not like having to kill faithful followers of the law, so...let my knights search your castle. They are nobles, just like you-they will not impeach on your most precious secrets."

"E-Even then," Count Balmorre swallowed, "This sort of thing, without even being told who-"

"Count Balmorre," I smiled. "I swear to you that whatever we may find will be forgiven, as long as it is not the hiding of a person we are looking for. You have my oath as a noble-is that not enough?"

"Most certainly it is!" Count Balmorre spoke, "If-If the prince-consort swears as much then...I'm ashamed! I'm ashamed, but I'll confess! I-I-" he twiddled his fingers, twitched and then blurted out quite quickly, "I've been withholding amounts of money from the crown! But-but I'll pay it! I'll pay regularly starting from this moment hence! I swear I will!"

I nodded most wisely, and then smiled. "See? Does your soul not feel better now that your sins are out in the air?" I raised my baton, and a small sphere of green light departed the tip of it, blasting up in the air. "Here we go, I've signaled the ship to come closer and take care of everything," I dismounted from Freedom, landing neatly on the walls' surface. "Now, Count Balmorre, why not show me around your beautiful village and lands? I'm sure it would soothe your heart more than simply watch as the knights do their job."

"O-Of course!" the Count nodded.

I smiled, "Great! So, tell me...what do you know about other nobles?"

If there's one thing I learned, it's that people don't need to be pushed to deliver scathing remarks or whisper bad things about other people. Especially those that are their rivals, or a threat to their power base.

In this country of countless unlanded nobles, or Counts, everyone had rivals.

Still, I did mentally jolt down -and later would write down- that the current count was prone to withholding money from the Crown.

While I could most certainly forgive him...

My wife, who would be queen, most certainly would not.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Seventy-Four

Months of scouring the countryside took its toll on the nobles, unused to such lengths. I did my best to give them some days of rest, but with how the whole of Gallia was made, sometimes one simply had to push the extra mile. Also, refueling the Night Wind took its time. While the fallen nobles I had hired could pour wind elements into the stones, the ship needed to remain docked for the procedures.

The wind stones were effectively tiny engines, which had an input and an output. The input was the mage pouring wind elemental willpower into it, ad the output was a small gust of wind and a levitation effect. As the nobles, and most of the commoners, enjoyed their daily leave and had fun in the port town of St. Mallon, I instead took upon myself to read the correspondence that I had warned to forward to our base of operation here in the biggest port of the country.

My dear husband,

I have received your latest letters. Most certainly, I will look into these acts. I am also happy to inform you that the letters of fealty from the current nobles of the Duchy of Brittany have come in. Little Helene is staying here in the palace as a guest, and she's been such a sweet little girl, but again, I'm giving her all of the good examples she needs to have. You have received a letter from your sister, and I have forwarded it. I did not open it, but I do wish you'll warn me if there was something that involved me in it!

I am feeling a bit lonely without your presence, even when surrounded by playmates and my cousin, I still find myself sincerely wishing you were back. I hope you will find that unfortunate child of uncle and auntie, and bring her back into the folds of the family of Gallia. Even though...even though, do you remember when you told me the story of the hunch-back? That passage, about the smile and the sorrowful loss of Esmeralda? How the nice bishop was cast aside, and the evil bishop had a change of heart and patted Quasimodo's shoulders? That piece right there, I'm afraid I can't remember what happened next. It's been such a long time.

I blinked.

I do hope you'll find that poor girl, though! When you do, please keep an eye on her. She'll definitely be scared, and worried, and who knows what might have been told to her by whoever was despicable enough to kidnap such a young child! Why! Such evil!

I send you my kisses and my warmest embrace.

Yours, Isabella.

I furrowed my brows and hummed, moving to the next letter on the pile.

It did come from my twin sister, and it had been apparently left untouched. However, from apparently to actually the difference was a magic spell. I still opened it, deciding to trust on Isabella's good will.

Within the letter, there was a small figurine which I quietly palmed and placed into the pouch around my neck.

Dear brother,

first of all, how dare you make me worry like this! I'm so angry with you, I'm sending back the gift you bought to apologize! Not writing to me for a few months in a row is a grievous sin! Do you hear me? No! I won't forgive you, absolutely not! So take this letter as a stern warning that I won't tolerate this kind of behavior any longer. I want a letter from you every week! And if you can't, then I expect double the amount the next week!

The stray I found and brought home is growing up happy, but he's a bit lonely. He's got such a shiny yellow fur now, you'd never guess he was taken by the side of the road! He misses his friends a lot, but Louise plays with him regularly. Mother is thinking of sending him along her to the Academy, but she doesn't really know since it might not be the case.

She heard of the troubles in Gallia, and hopes everything is going for the best. Well-she didn't really say it like that, brother. More of "That foolish child of mine! Making me worry like this!" but I'm sure you'll be fine.

Now, on to better, happier news! Father told me I was old enough for a really important gift, and so...he made me the proud bearer of a new family name! I am Cattleya la Fontaine! How do you think it rings? Funnily enough, the La Fontaine fief is one of the richest-with the money from it, I could go anywhere, be with anyone-and yes, I'm sure since it's you brother, I'm sure you've understood already!

Jean-Jacques and I are getting married later next year!

I very slowly stood up from my desk, and proceeded to the wine cabinet. The servant by the side of it didn't as much as move, the gaze in my eyes enough to make him freeze on his tracks. I grabbed the bottle, uncorked it, and the sat back down behind the desk.

I took a very deep swill of it.

He's a prospective Captain of the Griffin Guards-I told him I could wait, that if his career is important, he should cultivate it, but he wants to marry me. Even if he's passed up on the position, he doesn't care. We'll be moving to the La Fontaine villa one we're married, and Jean-Jacques is already taking care of having it restored to order, and to my tastes. He's such a sweetie-but this isn't everything I wanted to write you about, brother.

How have you and your wife been getting along? I've been corresponding with her, and she's a bit lonely. You really should think about-

Cattleya, being bed-ridden most of the time, had all the time in the world to write. This meant that her letters were pretty much long scrolls that could go on for meters to no end, and I cherished it. It felt like the days I spent by her bedside telling stories, or simply exchanging random and trivial information about nothing in particular.

Though the fact that Josette was apparently safe and with blond hair now was way better news than I had expected.

I closed my eyes, and sighed.

Suddenly, victory.

Suddenly, triumph.

My eyes snapped open as Raven's vision shared itself with me, and two persons came into the view of his eyes. Finally. Fucking finally. After all these months-calm, calm, you must be calm, Raven.

Raven's eyes showed the vision of a young girl and a young woman, both trudging along the forest, and stopping to rest in front of the abandoned house. One had dark green hair, and a wand in her hand. A small earth golem, stocky and badly built, held into his arms the duo's luggage.

"Here," she mumbled, "This is the place the villagers talked of-" she turned towards what could only be Tiffania, a large hat that easily covered most of her face, not even a hint of hair emerging from it. "For a cursed house-" Raven, did you do something? No forthcoming answer, but it was clear that Raven was hiding something. Perhaps he had scared some kids away with his voice, which was highly possible. "We can put it back, it won't be like the tower, but..."

"It's fine, big sister," Tiffania whispered. "I like this place," she added with small, kind smile on her place. "Can I...can I remove the hat now?"

Mathilda looked right and left, and for a brief instant her eyes glanced over the nest where Raven stood silently. From such a distance, perhaps he looked just like any other normal-sized raven.

"Sure," she said in the end. "I'll get started on repairing the roof-" as the earth golem deposited the luggage and disappeared, Tiffania removed her hat to reveal her slightly pointed ears and blond hair. She began to rush towards the back of the house, and in that moment, Raven sprung into action.

Blocking the path of Tiffania, Raven cawed and flapped its wings. "Tiffania!" Mathilda yelled, but Raven yelled louder.

"Hello!" he said, flapping his wings. "Hello!"

Tiffania blinked, taking a step back and then carefully lowering her arms from guarding her face when no attack seemed forthcoming. "I'm your friend!" Raven said excitedly, hopping back and forth. "I'm Raven! Nice to meet you!"

"Tiffania-" Mathilda hurried forward, stopping only once she was right by the young girl's side. "This-" she furrowed her eyebrows. "It must be a familiar."

"I love my master!" Raven said with a happy chirp. "He said to wait here!" he added.

"An abandoned familiar?" Mathilda mumbled, only for Raven to caw angrily.

"No!" he yelled. "Master loves me! And I love master! He said to wait for you here!" he cawed, "Master is really smart! And hugs me lots! And tells me everything! He wants you to come with me!"

"Is your master working for the imperial family?" Mathilda asked, her voice wary, her wand in hand slowly rising.

"No!" Raven cawed. "Master works for love and hugs!" I blinked at that sudden exclamation. "Master loves happy people! He loves helping people! He's the best master there is!" he hopped a bit closer. "You need a hug! You want a hug?"

Mathilda's eyes seemed kind of a mix between shocked out of her wits, and scared senseless. "I want a hug," Tiffania said, childishly stepping forward only for Raven's wings to surround her frame and-

Wait a minute.

Surround her frame?

Raven...how much did you grow while I wasn't looking? I hadn't bothered noticing it, but Raven was talking eye to eye with Mathilda. How had she not noticed him atop the rooftop then? Perhaps amidst the foliage, his dark plumage had hidden him, but still-

"He's warm!" Tiffania said with a giggle, "The feathers tickle-" she giggled some more.

"Your master...what does he want?" Mathilda asked, and to that Raven answered by showing his neck.

"Pouch! Take pouch! Inside is letter with instructions, and money! You take, you follow instructions-master prepared everything! He has friends who can help! Just wants child safe, because all children should be safe!" as Raven said that, Mathilda swallowed and neared her hand to take the pouch. Raven didn't resist, and soon the young woman had a pouch in her hand.

In front of Raven's eyes, even as Tiffania seemed to be loving the warm hug of my fluffy familiar, Mathilda opened the pouch and pulled out the letter within. "Dear Mathilda of..." Mathilda mumbled, "He knew I'd be coming this way? The letter's a bit old..." she whispered to herself, "I know you must be feeling angry-rest assured, you are not alone." Mathilda swallowed. "This patronizing tone," she said after a while, crumbling the letter and burning it as by the instructions written on it. "He must be an old man-I don't remember any of father's friends having a crow as a familiar, one as big as this-but..." she nodded. "You can tell your master we'll be on our way."

Raven cawed, and the opened his wings to release Tiffania from the hug. He hopped slightly back, and made a bowing motion with his body. Since when did he know how to bow?

"See you soon!" he cawed, widening his wingspan and taking off on the double, excitement and feelings of having done a great job pouring through him like a geyser.

And as my smile showed itself through my lips, I knew everything would soon be in place properly.

Now, to put this apparently innocuous figurine hidden in my pouch among the children born eaten by a minotaur or an orc...and then, obviously, make this hunt end.

Isabella's warning had simply confirmed my suspicions, in the story of Disney, Frollo came with a knife behind his back. It was clear that the reason I couldn't say whom I was looking for was because once found, I'd have to bring her back to the palace and then...

Then I supposed the Duke would be the hard man taking the hard decision, and chop the girl's head off if he wanted to regain the lost pride as a noble. Pride, for a noble, was a great thing, just like one's oaths. Of course, this was simply Isabella's worry, which didn't necessarily translate into something that would really happen -and for the sake of my plan, didn't need to happen. After all, if Charlotte's sister died, then there would be no problems if the succession line changed from Joseph to Charles.

Supporters of Charles might just want that to happen regardless of what Charles would wish for his daughter, so in the end...

In the end, I would not take the risk of letting a young girl fall out of my supervision and risk death. As it was, Josette was happily playing with Louise, her hair blond and a new holy relic she had to never remove, not for baths, not for bed, never ever, around her neck.

Now, once I got Mathilda and Tiffania safely within the fief of La Blois-father would take care of that.

He owed me for the hippogriff, so, rather than buying me one, he'd take care of those two and keep silent.

The official excuse?

I needed a fallen noble to take care of the coffee plants I had left behind.

Decadence, the number one excuse for why a noble would hire foreigners, and which nobody bothered to even check about.