The primary thought you have as you sit at the dining table of the Zabanya manor is that Elizabeth's sundress - the one that you're wearing - keeps your shoulders exposed in front of a lot of important people.
That's what being a kept woman is like, Neianne.
"I don't suppose you've heard if Baroness Langmere's health has improved?" the viscountess asks.
Sure, she's had plenty of time to hear in between harvest gossip and fending off starstruck village girls.
"That sounds like you could just...die."
From the other side of the table, Elizabeth snorts, and Diana bristles visibly when her older sister declares, "And that's why you will always be mediocre."
I...y'know, she's not wrong.
"I'm not afraid!" Diana insists in a sort of bitter tone - along with the mildly exasperated but almost resigned reaction of the mother - that somehow gives you the impression this sort of back-and-forth is common between the two sisters. "I'm just...there's no point in dying!"
Beep beep, insufficient patriotism detected, deploying correction tasers~
"...Lindholm and Apaloft and maybe even Sandria will become the new frontlines. We can't fight a war at the front while also caring for refugees to the rear. They'd be better off in Fulwaite anyways. Maybe Sandria. But not Lindholm. Crime has already risen over the years. We really don't need more."
What a fancy way of saying NIMBY.
"Don't just quote Elizabeth at me," snaps Anya, and there's a tone in her voice that somehow makes you feel like the youngest sister knows this is something that gets under Diana's skin. "It doesn't actually make you sound smart."
Ohhhhhhh snap, I felt that one from here.
Anya tries to salvage the conversation as she looks to you again, and you're fleetingly grateful that the discussion has moved on from politics. "Is it true what they say about young dryads?" she asks.
"Is...wh-what true?" you blink.
*snickers* Oh my, down this conversation branch lies -danger-.
Oh. Was she just curious about that? "Y-Yes," you say, smiling tentatively, thinking about Vesna's own visit not so long ago. "In the woodlands, th-things are quite solitary, without towns or inns. So if a traveller comes by, it's p-polite to let them stay and feed them, in return for doing some ch-chores, or other tasks."
For some reason, this seems to bring a slight flush to Anya's cheeks. Not embarrassed so much as excited. "Other tasks?" she asks.
...you really are... XD
Unexpectedly, Elizabeth provides the rationale for your unease, although it swiftly proves to be of little comfort. "She's wondering," drawls your elven squadmate through a smirk, and already you can see Anya's expression transform into that of moritification, "if you've ever torn an elf girl's dress off and had your way with her on the soft bed of moss at the feet of an ancient tree, while birds and squirrels play on, unperturbed by her throws of passion."
I assure you Elizabeth, the birds and squirrels were quite perturbed!
"So, how were they?" Elizabeth asks, looking at you with vague interest.
You look back at her with frank confusion, tinged with the vestiges of mortified embarrassment and a bit of resentful pouting; you do blame Elizabeth - at least a little bit - for trapping you in such a shameful situation. "The...pies?" you offer, thinking back for what in the world "they" could mean.
The elf girls, duh.
Elizabeth takes this information on with an almost mockingly sympathetic nod. "As one older sister to another, I would suggest the use of lightning."
Elizabeth is clearly from the Azula school of Big Sistering.
Given the sheer quantity of the books around you, to say nothing of the stacks you'd encountered in her actual bedroom, you find this summation ever so slightly suspect...and you can't help but wonder whose study or library is larger, what the aftermath of a bibliophile duel between Sieglinde and Elizabeth would look like. "Wh-What are you reading?" you ask. It seems wiser not to voice this suspicion, with no corroborating evidence.
Look, just don't harm the books in the course of the duel itself or else Yomiko will get angry!
She slips an ornate bookmark into the tome, carefully shutting it and laying it down, in order to give you more of her attention. Or so you thought. Instead, she holds up her right hand, and a tiny, flickering spark of flame blossoms there. How weak and frail the flame looks is surprising to you at first, even compared to the fire magecraft you've seen from other apprentices, to say nothing about the strange technique Stephanie managed. But mastery over three elements at Elizabeth's age, you suppose, would be a bit much even for a slightly evil genius.
But she's already also a Dark element mage, so wouldn't it be four elements?
If Aster were to use wind magecraft to slit someone's throat, the throat would also remain slit after the wind is gone."
Elizabeth regards your confusion with a slightly satisfied but secretive air, continuing before you have a chance to ask about either example.
*squints*
Elizabeth, are you...-bragging- about your desired girlfriend?
Elizabeth regards your confusion with a slightly satisfied but secretive air, continuing before you have a chance to ask about either example. "But there are ultimately still inconsistencies. If I were to freeze Lake Marl, for example, once the mana is gone, as opposed to slowly melting from its ice form, Lake Marl would simply return to a water state...which seems at odds with what happens with fire magecraft on firewood. Raising the temperature causes flames to remain, so why does lowering the temperature not cause ice to do the same?"
"Do scholars have an a-answer?"
"The prevailing theory is that of matter displacement. That is the idea that fire magecraft transforms mana, a type of energy, into another form of energy, which doesn't cause a contradiction with natural matter due to the presence of a two-tier energy framework; whereas ice magecraft does create matter, or at least transforms matter, and thus matter must return to its natural, pre-conversion matteric state in a way that does not exist for fire."
My off the cuff WAG is that if there's a logical explanation, it's because fire starts a destructive process that would take more energy than already invested to reverse.
"No. I just want people to look at you funny."
You give her a long, searching look and quickly ascertain that her amusement is at your dismay, not because she's actually joking. You cross your arms, pouting.
To be fair Neianne, if you didn't want funny looks then maybe you shouldn't have specialist in assault shields as a weapon.
stretching down from the Zabanya manse - which, now that you can see it clearly, looks like an elegant manse instead of a haunted house
It can still be both!
A sign that hangs above the door takes the sign of a pair of shears, and two mannequins wear dresses behind a large glass window, designating this building as a tailor's shop and answering your question about the lack of a cacophony.
Run far, run fast Neianne. (It's already too late.)
"Well, you can't. I like my dresses, you know." Her lips curl cruelly. "You can't just tear them off."
...but she can tear off gifted ones?
"I'll have your order placed in front of the queue, of course," promises Tracy. "With that, I'd suppose...oh, three, four days of careful work. Two, maybe, if the design is bolder."
And if you want it to be reusable, there's this girl named Luvia who wears outfits with detachable sleeves. I'm sure that can be modified for all over!
*fleeees*
Upon seeing this gaily painted shop that Elizabeth had made a beeline for, you are forced to revise that opinion...as well as acknowledge, for what seems like the hundredth time on this short trip alone, that your upbringing is almost painfully quaint in comparison to your companion.
Also, let us take another moment to be SO jealous of smol girl who eats whatever she wants.
Elizabeth raises an eyebrow, looking at you with the kind of expression you imagine a cat would have upon cornering a mouse. "I'm 'alright', huh?" she smiles sweetly, which is certainly incentive enough for you to make emergency course corrections.
"I-I mean, I don't d-dislike you as you are!"
The elven girl beams, which only serves to scare you a little more. "Aw," she coos, "how sweet."
One day, teasing Neianne will be a national pastime.
The tiny delights are each shaped in the form of Elizabeth's own face.
*opens mouth*
*closes mouth*
No, too easy.