Chapter Text

The Icicle Trees

Melchior all but skipped through the frigid morning. He could hear the hushed rustling of the children and clergy preparing to leave. They stood with baskets in little coats and knitted sweaters. These knitted clothes were particularly interesting to Melchior. Noble's didn't knit as far as he knew and purchased clothes made from woven material. He’d seen hats and gloves but never a whole garment. They came in a variety of qualities as knitting had only been introduced to the orphanage a few years before.

Distracted as he was by the new kinds of clothes, Melchior's attempt to quietly slip into the crowd failed quickly. In truth, it was doomed from the start. No one wouldn't notice the High Bishop casually standing next to them. A stir ran through the crowd and the children whispered. The few adults shushed everyone and paled when Melchior was pointed out. Not only was he here once again but he was alone.

“High Bishop. We thank you for your generosity in seeing us off. Shall we summon someone to accompany you back to your chambers?”

“I intend to accompany the other children for parue hunting. I shall be in your care,” he replied and completely ignored the looks of horror as well as the polite insinuations. “There is no need to wake anyone. We shall return in due time,” he added before someone got the idea to call Lothar or one of the blue clergy to dissuade him. The gray priests and shrine maidens could only pull their coats closer and pray nothing happened. Such were the High Bishop’s orders.

They set out filled with anxiety and questions they could not ask but the younger orphans were genuinely excited. “You have a lot of mana right? You’ll be able to melt the branches very fast,” Lyle chirped. Melchior asked him more questions about their excursion while they walked to the South Gate. Lyle’s answers were much the same as Kirk’s but Melchior listened intently all the same.

The process was simple: climb the tree, grab the fruit, melt the branch, toss the fruit to the waiting arms of your friends. Lyle also reminded him not to take too many from any one tree. It was hard to reach the ones at the top but you should also leave some of the ones at the bottom. The towns folk said it was bad luck to take more than two out of every three fruits and the orphans followed their advice.

There were many of the townsfolk headed into the forest. This was the first morning parues would be available after all. Though children were normally the main groups headed out, today there were also many adults. It was clear that whole families were engaged in the hunt. “We have to walk kind of far to collect any,” Lyle explained. Apparently, people hoping to collect enough to sell would camp all night near the closer sproutings of parue trees. The temple orphans called out some greetings to towns folk they knew. Some younger adults even came over to talk with the gray clergy while everyone waited for the gates to open.

The guards came out with torches and drew open the gates just as first bell began to ring. It was still as dark as night as crowds of people marched out and into the woods. Melchior wasn't nearly as tired after the walk this time. He was delighted that all his training was paying off. Lyle hadn't been kidding though. The orphans all hiked quickly much deeper then they’d gone in the summer.

After a few minutes of hiking, Melchior saw his first parue tree. The white branches that comprised his brooches could not begin to compare. The sky was darkening before dawn but the great tree still glittered with stellar light. Their trunks like polished crystals soared into the sky. He could see through the branches and needles into the canopy beyond. The only part of the tree that didn't seem to be made of clear ice were the large white fruits and their silver calyxes. These looked like massive snowballs held in pale hands which dangled the sweet fruits enticingly. Melchior couldn't help but ooh and aah even as the orphans teased him. Of course they’d all had similar reactions but that was at least a year ago when they were much younger.

The first trees they passed already had people climbing them. As their group was racing as fast as small legs could carry them, it seemed true that some towns folk had camped out in the cold. Melchior wondered what it looked like to see these trees spring up overnight. Eventually they found a free grove of four trees. They split into groups and began climbing. Three or four people could safely climb one tree it seemed. Each climber had at least two people waiting to catch their fruits.

Melchior joined Lyle in catching the collected parues of one of the priests. The older boy scurried up with little issue and scooted precariously out to a branch with three fruits. He seemed to contemplate the feasibility of melting the wrist thick bough where it grew out from the thicker branch. Ultimately, he shimmied even further out to grasp the nearest fruit before pulling his glove off with his teeth and wrapping a hand around the twig connecting the parue to its home. It took about a minute for the twig to melt enough to be snapped. Lyle caught the fruit and placed it gently in his basket.

Melchior was much less calm about the young man clutching the tree branch for dear life. His body heat seemed to make the already fragile looking support shrink slowly even as he moved farther and farther out. Only once everyone was safely on the ground and hurrying on to the next trees did the tension in his heart relax. He wasn't sure he could calmly enjoy parues cakes after seeing the dangers involved in obtaining them.

None of this incredibly rational fear was going to stop him when he had the opportunity to climb for himself. He stepped into the cradle of hands offered him and jumped while being lifted onto the lowest branch. From here he was lost. There were no fruits at this low level but the next highest branch was slightly out of reach. He was also monopolizing the point of entry. The orphans yelled up plenty of advice he didn't know how to use. After a few minutes he gave up and dropped back down to reassess and so others could climb up.

He didn't really need to climb a tree anyway. Nobles had highbeast for such gathering. It would be terrible to be seen using it but the really hair-raising fruit at the tips of the branches would be much easier to obtain. “Lyle set a look out. Tell me if any commoners come our way. Just give a shout,” Melchior instructed as he pulled out his highbeast faestone. Such clear instructions were easy to follow so the lookouts were quickly set. He didn't want to draw much attention so he summoned his normal lion as small as possible while still being rideable. It came up to his knees, his legs dangled, and he had to sit on the wings a little but he wasn't afraid of falling.

A few catchers missed fruit as they watched him float into the trees on a tiny version of a big cat. Thankfully the snow was soft and cradled the precious packages. Even though it was their turn to ooh and aah, Melchior didn't tease them. Instead he focused on collecting his first fruit.

Parues were obviously a faeplant. On this, Melchior felt sure. He’d heard a bit about collecting faefruit and it always entailed filling it with mana before removing it from the plant. The temple orphans mostly didn't have mana and those that did wouldn't have enough to dye a faefruit so Melchior had never seen what the result of dying one would be. Ruelles were still edible and could replenish mana after being dyed. He wondered if parues would taste better somehow.

For the sake of experimentation, he slipped off his gloves, grabbed his first ever parue, and tried to push mana into it. Unlike a faestone, it seemed loath to accept outside mana. Melchior had to exert more and more force until it was over powered all at once. By then it was hard to hold back as a flood of mana slipped through his fingers. In the blink of an eye, his hand was filled with a large clear stone with a little silver hat. It was also much heavier than any of the fruits he’d held before but the branch didn't sag when he let it go to reorient himself. He clutched the heavy faestone to his chest and reached out for the twig connecting it to the tree. His fingers barely brush it before it melted completely, leaving him to bear the full weight of the rock by himself.

“What is that!” Lyle cried as Melchior flew down to gingerly place the faestone in his hands. His little arms strained under the sudden weight but he recovered quickly. It was heavier than a parue but not actually that heavy.

“I'll explain on our walk back. We don't have much time,” Melchior replied and flew back up. He decided to do some normal collecting even though the thought of making more huge crystals was deeply compelling. They were here for food and he couldn't be sure the parue faestones were edible.

It seemed cool at first to be able to melt the branches instantly but it quickly became a problem. Just brushing a branch with his highbeast sent a potentially heavy icicle plummeting toward his catchers. He was eventually given his own tree as the possibility of him striking a branch someone was climbing was too catastrophic to consider even if it was unlikely.

By himself he could comb two of every third parue off a tree before anyone else could collect a second fruit. The orphans would wait until he was in position before running over to stand below him. Then he would hover perfectly still and reach out carefully to pluck the fruit by just its twig before dropping it into waiting hands. Five people worked in rotation to manage his collecting. Everyone seemed particularly excited to try the fruits from the topmost branches.

There was another benefit to flying, he could see other stands of trees. Their gathering progressed until nearly everyone’s baskets had as much as they could carry. Only his own held a single shiny rock. Since the food had been secured, he proceeded to create a couple more faestones. He found it easier to pluck the fruit before dyeing it. Perhaps the tree added extra resistance, he thought. It still took a healthy amount of mana and a good bit of time to transform each one.

Melchior was going to begin on his fifth faestone when the first sun rays shown over the horizon. He was holding a fruit as they all shrank to less than half the size. The tree shuddered so violently it nearly ripped the thing from his grasp. In its aggressive wiggling, it hit his hand and the branch supporting his spoils melted all the way back to the trunk. Another branch tapped him as the whole plant stretched even higher, as though trying to strike the praying pose with its many arms, and flailed so hard it launched the remaining fruit all over the forest. Another fruit hit Melchior square in the chest before he had the wherewithal to dive for the ground. He now had two of the shriveled nuggets and a bruise forming on his sternum.

The gray clergy crowded around and fretted over his health. “I’m perfectly all right, just a bit surprised. It didn't even hurt,” he insisted. All notions of station were forgotten as they chastised him for not thinking faster and scaring everyone. Melchior apologized over and over and promised to take better care. He also employed much self control to stop from rubbing the point of impact. It had hurt quite a lot getting hit. Thankfully, it seemed to be from a more distant tree or he might have been knocked clean off his lion.

Once he was well informed of the terror he’d place in the hearts of everyone, they began their trek back. Melchior offered to carry more fruits but no one would add to his burden. Instead they had innumerable questions about the faestones. How could he turn fruit into crystals? Why were they clear? Could they be eaten? Did it take very much mana? He answered as best he could but had to admit he knew almost nothing about the finer points of gatherings or using faestones. He promised to give one to the orphans so they could experiment with or display it as they wished in exchange for all the parue they’d given him over the years.

This was also when he learned that only the High Bishop was gifted parues. The other blues knew nothing of the plant. Rozemyne had decreed that it be kept secret, so no one that hadn't been offered treats by her own chefs had tasted it. “She seemed worried the other nobles would be jealous,” Lyle explained. Melchior hadn't told anyone except Adaire about this special treat since it was only available in the temple anyway. He hadn't considered that there was an intentional prohibition on revealing it to the castle denizens. All his plans for taking his share to prepare crepes for Adaire and Gerianne were put away. He would just have to share with Gerianne upon their return at the end of winter and find some reason to invite Adaire to the temple. He could still make sure Nikolaus got to have some.

They walked more slowly back to the gates which was good for Melchior who was once again amazed by the endurance of the temple orphans. Their baskets were more full than most people's. Infact, most people only had two or three for each member of their gathering party. The rule about leaving one third of the fruit seemed unnecessary when everyone was so bad at gathering anyway.

“My, you orphans sure are good at this. It's a wonder anyone else gets any,” teased one of the guards.

“It’s because we all help each other,” one of the children replied. The orphans and guards traded a few more quips while one of the shrine maidens emptied her basket to distribute parues to the soldiers.

“Since you can't go gather while watching the gate,” she explained. They all thanked the temple denizens and cradled their fruits jealously. One guard in particular, a younger man, looked at her with sad eyes and blushed as their hands touched when she placed a fruit in his arms. She refilled her basket from a few of the younger children's before their group set off once again.

Melchior moved to walk closer to her. He’d read about the signs of affection enough to know there was something between the shrine maiden and the guard. This was his chance to learn more about what Sheila might be thinking. “Do you want to marry him,” he asked.

She started and clutched the straps of her basket. “I… I am not allowed to marry,” she replied while looking down at her feet.

“If you could, would you want to? If you were free to choose?” he pressed.

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “It would never work. Even if I had the money it isn't allowed. If it was, I would be destitute with nowhere to live and nowhere to work.” It sounded to Melchior like she’d considered it more than fleetingly. He also considered why it wouldn't be allowed if a gray priest really wanted to buy themselves. It barely made sense that rich commoners couldn't hire them let alone that they couldn't hire themselves. It was a question to ask Kazmiar when he helped in the office again. It also occupied his thoughts until they walked all the way back to the temple.

Lyle got his attention by dropping two fruits into his basket then all but running away. All the orphanage grays seemed to be retreating to kneel a few steps away. Melchior began to instruct everyone to rise before a hand rested on his shoulder.

Slowly he turned to lock eyes with a very tired and very angry Fonsel. “What are you doing and where have you been?” he asked with a calm smile that could melt icy branches.

“I was gathering,” Melchior croaked. He glanced to the side and saw Fonsel's highbeast waiting at the ready. He was also wearing full armor.

“Gathering! How were you, a first year without a schtappe or guard knight going gathering before the crack of dawn?” he boomed. Melchior shivered. This was much different then the quiet confrontation with Philine. He was annoyed at being caught immediately once again. Hopefully it would be easier to deflect blame from the gray clergy this time.

“Everyone may return to the orphanage,” Melchior said. No one needed to be told twice. He was alone with Fonsel before the guard could protest.

The Consequences

“I had questions for them,” he snapped.

Melchior took a deep breath. Since he'd been caught he needed to accept all blame. Even if he never saw another paint brush he couldn't allow the orphans to be punished for simply following his orders. “I can answer any questions you may have.”

Fonsel narrowed his eyes. This had already been a terrible morning. The look of unrepentant determination on his young lord's face only served to fan his anger. He’d been worried when Lothar was waiting in the cold by the nobles’ entrance and even more worried when he heard Kirk's report. It was a blessing that Dedryck had already left by that point. He couldn't imagine the storm that knight would have unleashed over the commoner woods and lower city to drag Melchior back immediately. Fonsel was on the verge of doing the same when the orphans arrived at the back gate. “Very well. Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in!?”

“The gathering of parues is not very dangerous,” Melchior began.

Fonsel cut him off, “Forget the fruits! You could have been kidnapped or devoured by wild beasts. Do you know that faebeasts are attracted to mana? You are an easy and tender snack and you seem bent on delivering yourself directly into their maws!” Fonsel squeezed the little deltoid in his hand. Melchior winced but made no effort to pull away as he was pushed up the stairs and into the temple. “I can't even begin to believe this,” Fonsel muttered loudly enough to echo through the halls.

Once they were back in his room he was liberated of his basket and placed into a chair still in his ragged outfit. Lothar and Sheila looked just as angry while it was clear Kirk had been crying. Melchior wanted to reach out and ask what happened but Lothar began his lecture immediately.

He shook with emotion. “Lord Melchior, it pains me greatly to be the one to say this but if you can excuse a mere attendant to speak… your recklessness cannot continue. I will not ask where you obtained these clothes or this predilection for risking your precious life or even why you have chosen to ignore the strictures put in place by Lady Rozemyne for your safety but I must ask that you never again leave the temple grounds without the escort of your knights. Indeed you should not leave your room without an attendant no matter how well you know the layout of the temple.” Melchior was as stunned as he had been to see Lothar cry at the recital. Again he looked away from the emotion in his attendant’s eyes.

“What would we do if something happened to you?” Sheila asked, making no effort to be polite. “What are we to do if you continue to risk yourself?” Her face was red and she folded her arms in front of her chest. Both fixed him with reddened eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Melchior whispered. Tears were beginning to threaten his eyes too. He’d expected to be punished and lectured but facing the pained rage of his retainers was more than he bargained for. He thought of how upset Zargerecht had been and the silent dressing down Nikolaus received from Sigsnyr after he’d only traveled down the hall. He may have decided to ask for a demotion in his status but to his retainer's it was still their job to ensure his safety until it actually happened. Of course they would worry. “I didn't mean to worry you. I thought I should return before it was noticed that I was gone.”

“That isn't the problem,” Fonsel barked. “That you would leave in the first place is the problem. In fact, I’m getting the feeling that this isn't the first time.” He took a knee before the chair and looked directly into Melchior's eyes. “I assure you, however, it will be the last.” He pulled out an ordonnanz and tapped it. “This is Fonsel. I deeply apologize for sending a missive so early in the morning but I must inform you that your son has attempted to run away. We have prevented it. But I thought you should be informed,” he said in a calm and polite tone before swinging his schtappe and sending the white bird fluttering away.

Melchior paled. He was counting on Fonsel not wanting to get in trouble and agreeing to keep this a secret. Before he could even negotiate, Fonsel had told on himself. Melchior could only hope the message hadn't been to his mother. “Get him dressed,” Fonsel ordered and guarded on the inside of the door facing into the room. His eyes never left Melchior as he was stripped of his rags and transformed back into an Archduke Candidate. Kirk quietly took the costume away while Lothar washed him with warm water.

As he was arrayed in fresh underwear the ordonnanz returned. His father's voice rang out in the unmistakable timbre of the Aub of Ehrenfest. “Bring him to my office,” it said three times and returned to being a small yellow stone. Lothar seemed to have predicted this as the clothes he’d chosen were for the castle. Kirk returned with a box and cloth. He wrapped the faestones carefully and placed them inside before taking the basket with the parues away. Melchior felt incredible relief that he wouldn't have to issue instructions about his spoils and deep guilt for implicating Kirk in his schemes.

“Do not punish anyone,” he said as he watched the other boy exit again. “Everyone was only following my orders.”

“We are not the ones you need to beg,” Fonsel replied.

As he was finished dressing, Nikolaus arrived for breakfast and guard duty. He was naturally surprised to see everyone so tense and to hear that they were leaving for the castle immediately. He didn't even have time to change out of his blue robes before he had to march out to the nobles gate and jump into Melchior's highbeast.

“What's going on?” he asked once they were in the air.

“I left the temple this morning to gather parues. Everyone seems very angry about it,” Melchior explained. He attempted to sound casual but his voice cracked on the word ‘angry’.

Nikolaus's eyes grew wide he strained against his seat belt to face Melchior. “Of course they're angry. You didn't even bring a guard. You didn't even bring me. Are you trying to find the towering staircase?” Nikolaus held his head in his hands and groaned. “Why would you do that?”

Melchior didn't answer. He wanted to say that he simply wanted to help but that wasn't exactly true. He certainly knew even before he sent Kirk back to his chambers that it was a bad idea and would surely worry everyone if they found out but he’d put it out of his mind. Why he wanted to hike out into the cold woods and gather winter fruit like a commoner child, he wasn't sure. It seemed like the only choice to make at the time. In retrospect, it was a baffling choice for an Archduke Candidate or even a blue priest. There was no version of Melchior that should have found himself up there amid the icy branches. He thought about the majestic sight rather than interrogating his unexplainable behavior.

He was very quickly called upon again to explain by a depressed looking Sylvester. It was only the two of them in the Archduke's office. Even Karstedt had been sent away.

“I can't even begin to tell you how scared we were to hear that ordonnanz,” Sylvester began. “You tried to run away? To where!” he didn't allow time for a response before crying out again, “Why, Melchior? Help me understand. Tell me what happened.”

Melchior tried to sit up straight in his chair despite the intensity of his father's stare. “I awoke very early this morning and, realizing it would be the first parue hunt of the season, decided to go gathering for parues. We remained in the forest until the trees melted then returned to the temple where I was met by Fonsel who was unhappy to find me not in my room. He sent you the ordonnanz then we came to the castle in response to your summons,” Melchior replied as calmly as he could.

A sparse recounting of events was naturally not enough to satisfy the Archduke. “Then what is this about you running away?”

“I do not know why Fonsel phrased it in that way.”

“Did no one attempt to stop you?” Sylvester asked as he leaned forward on templed fingers. His gaze seemed to be growing sharper as it rested, unbroken, on his son.

“Everyone attempted to stop me but there is no one in the temple with the authority to do so. They had to follow my orders,” Melchior replied. He was feeling increasingly frightened but he still had to protect everyone from blame. “Please do not punish them.”

Sylvester rose from his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do not punish them. How could I not when my son has been put into grave danger by their inaction? How can I stand by and do nothing? I cannot do that, Melchior. I cannot allow them to believe that your safety can be compromised in this way.”

“It was not inaction, they could not defy me,” Melchior insisted.

“Yet they could defy me!” Sylvester yelled. The boy quailed. He had never been yelled at by Sylvester before. “Have I not charged them with your safety and care and protection? Does your word supersede mine?” he growled. He felt so lost and terrified by visions of the worst outcomes. How many people had the opportunity to prevent this but didn’t? The archduke sank back into his chair. He had barely woken up and was now having to contemplate executions. Florencia had sent him in alone for some reason. Now he ached dearly for her assistance.

Melchior was quiet. Of course the Aub’s word was final but he knew of no such directive. The gray clergy didn't seem to know about something like that either. They seemed ready to use any excuse to get him to turn back. “I believe only Lothar has such orders. That is why I took such pains to avoid his detection.”

Sylvester couldn't help but laugh. He’d received one of the greatest shocks of his life and was venting his anger and worry openly yet Melchior was debating minutia. “Who has direct orders does not matter when your safety is under threat.”

“It matters a great deal when you are considering who to punish,” Melchior replied. It was difficult to look into his father's eyes. They were still red from sleep and rage. His expression lacked all of its usual mirth. Even still, he felt he could not show weakness by looking away. If he was going to break rules, he could not allow others to be harmed.

“Why do you care if I punish orphans for failing to uphold their duty,” Sylvester growled. “If they cannot even be relied upon to summon your guards when you are so obviously in danger, why am I paying to feed them or cloth them.”

“Because the temple cannot function without them!” Melchior cried. He didn't realize he was so upset by implications that they were burdensome. His attendants did so much for him and he felt so indebted to them that his anger just spilled out. “And because they are my friends!” he added quietly. Tears began to fall in spite of his efforts to seem calm. “Please do not punish them. You did not order them to prevent me from leaving. You cannot say they did not uphold a duty you did not charge them with.”

“I should not have to give direct orders. They should know!”

“How would they know! You made me the High Bishop. How would they know your word conflicts with my desires if you did not tell them!”

“They should know!” Sylvester boomed, his eyes briefly shimmered seven colors. “They should know how important you are to me,” he whispered. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. “Why, Melchior? Just tell me why.”

Melchior sat on the other side of the desk, looking so small in the large chair. His hair was done in imitation of Sylvester’s own and his face carried the gentleness of his wife. Melchior had been Sylvester's youngest for some time and wormed his bright and smiling way into his heart. He was both angry and confused as to why the boy would take such a risk. The lives of a few orphans were nothing by comparison.

“I do not know. I …” Melchior tried to continue but all he could hear were his own sobs from the previous morning. He couldn't be a proper Archduke Candidate and he couldn't take care of anyone. “I would like to be a priest.”

Sylvester stared. They both stared. It didn't seem like an answer to the question but Sylvester was already too tired to argue on this point. “You already are a priest,” he sighed.

“I want to be just a priest. I don't want to be an Archduke Candidate anymore.”

It was so much to process first thing in the morning. Sylvester’s mind turned to thoughts about the socializing he was expected to do later as though it refused to hear his son's declaration. “You want to be sent to the temple,” he repeated as much to refocus himself as to search for clarification.

“Yes, I am willing to remain High Bishop if you insist but I would rather be a warrior blue priest,” Melchior clarified.

This clarification did nothing to help Sylvester understand. Their entire conversation was becoming non sequitur, the fragments creating more picture but doing nothing to resolve themselves into anything coherent. “Melchior, I am not smart enough to draw these threads together. What do you mean that you left the temple to gather because you don't want to be an Archduke Candidate?” Somehow saying it out loud made things clearer. “You were running away,” he replied to himself. Going to the Royal Academy had spurred everyone around Melchior to be more strict. Perhaps he was breaking under the weight of expectation. “What has brought this on?” he asked. Even if it was just what he imagined, the solution would still be complex. He returned to resting his chin on his fingers.

“I cannot be a proper Archduke Candidate and I'm not useful to anyone besides. It would be easier to be a priest so that I cannot bring shame to Ehrenfest nor have anyone miss place their trust in me. I could also remain friends with the orphans,” Melchior mused. He hadn't laid everything out before but as he considered it now, things really would improve if he were a priest.

“No,” Sylvester said. Melchior tried to argue but Sylvester gestured from him to be quiet. “I have no reason to demote you, which is not an invitation for you to commit some grave crime to force my hand. I don't think you are incapable of being a proper Archduke Candidate. You have also carried out every duty assigned to you just fine. Whose trust is misplaced?”

“Krapech and his retainers,” Melchior replied flatly.

Sylvester’s mind spun once again. The boy hadn’t even hesitated so whoever that was must have been important. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“He died in the temple attack. I failed to protect him. I failed to protect the gray shrine maiden and the servants. I let Georgina get to the foundation. I cannot even protect my attendants from the cold. Everyone’s trust is misplaced,” he declared. More tears fell and he finally collapsed into himself. Melchior remembered all the things he should have done all over again. He’d been told not to dwell on these things and he’d tried to put it out of his mind. Yet it was still there, weighing on his heart.

“Melchior, you are not to blame. You were so young but you still did everything you could. It is easy to see after the fact what we could have done better. We can only take that knowledge and use it for the future,” Sylvester said. He leaned back in his chair. Hadn't Melchior talked about this with Florencia and with Rozemyne and Ferdinand? “No one blames you for what happened,” he assured.

Melchior nodded. It was what he’d heard before. He knew he should agree but it never did anything to lighten the burden on his heart. He could not fail to protect the temple this time. Though he hadn't personally been to the repentance chamber it was known to be miserably cold even in summer. Not to mention that any extra labor would need to happen in the snow. “Please do not punish anyone,” he begged again.

Sylvester sighed. He gazed into those wet blue eyes so full of determination and sighed. “I will not punish the gray clergy. As they were merely following your orders. The same is true for Lothar who reported you missing the moment he knew, meaning he followed my orders.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Know that I will not show mercy a second time.”

“I understand.”

“There will be a directive given to the temple to report any future threats to your safety including those you pose to yourself. This will not happen again,” Sylvester declared and Melchior nodded enthusiastically. Relief spilled out of his heart.

“Thank you, Father. I will not give you any cause to worry,” he promised.

“Your knights' failures cannot be excused. They allowed you to leave unopposed and unprotected,” Sylvester continued.

“I am good at sneaking out,” Melchior tried to argue.

Sylvester squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments. He didn't want to think about the possibility that this was only one in a string of occurrences. “Be that as it may, guard knights should be able to keep track of one child. Since you have interceded so passionately, I will only reduce their pay for one season.”

“But Fonsel just had a baby,” Melchior cried. As far as he knew, babies were expensive.

“Then do not give me a reason to reprimand him further. You are lucky nothing happened. Had even a hair on your head been plucked I would not hesitate to replace him,” Sylverster replied with more authority. Between hearing that Melchior had run away and being assured he’d been caught, Sylvester felt ready to have the entire temple wiped off the face of the map. How he’d been talked into such a weak response would continue to baffle him. He looked at his son, who seemed perfectly content with his negotiations, and wondered what would even be appropriate as a punishment. He couldn't do nothing but this was obviously a response to the pressures Melchior had been under recently.

“I think you are progressing well as an Archduke Candidate. You certainly haven't brought shame to Ehrenfest,” he encouraged. Melchior looked unconvinced by this sudden praise. “What are you struggling with?” Sylvester asked. As far as he was concerned, Melchior was doing better than either himself or Wilfried.

“I cannot conduct myself with the grace and dignity of an Archduke Candidate,” he replied.

Sylvester scratched his head. He was barely able to maintain his own facade. What advice could he give? “ Well, that's really a question for your mother. I can give you a tip though,” Sylvester said and leaned forward. Melchior also leaned forward, his entire person seeming more relaxed after shedding some tears. “You don't have to keep up the grace and dignity every second of every day. Just practice it all the time until you know when it's safe to relax. Maybe use your day off to be more casual, yeah.” Melchior looked pensive even as he nodded. He would have to figure out or ask when it was safe to relax but having time to be himself would make things less stressful. Ignoring Pepin all morning was a terrible way to begin the day, for one. He still felt that it would be easier to join the temple but he could always ask again if he couldn’t improve.

“Now, what shall we do with you?” Sylvester mused and drummed his fingers on his desk. Endangering the son of the Archduke was a serious crime but could he charge that son for a crime against himself? Did he want to? What he really needed was more eyes on Melchior. He also needed to interrogate Melchior's retainers to find out what was going on and why he was so unstable. “You are going back to the Royal Academy. You will be confined to the dorms for one week. Take this time to reflect on your actions.”

Melchior smiled and nodded. He seemed wholly unfazed. Sylvester considered adding more punishments but a reduction in income wouldn't have much impact on a child and he’d given his word not to be overly harsh with the retainers. Not to mention that whatever emotional turmoil the boy was in would only be exacerbated by a change in retinue. They were already struggling to find Archductal retainers without needing to replace a third set. Then again, maybe Melchior was just putting on a brave face. Being trapped in the dorm for a week would have been torture for ten year old Sylvester. “I will reflect, Father. You will not be worried in this way again,” Melchior promised. Worried was too weak a word as far as Sylvester was concerned.

“Ensure that it does not,” he commanded, then rang the bell on his desk. Karstedt entered with Ridyarda. She collected the area sound blocker before exiting again to summon Melchior’s own retainers.

He’d arrived with only his knights and was greeted by Norbert rather than his own attendants. During their conversation, it seemed that both Zargerecht and Haldis had been summoned. Sylvester sat imposingly behind his desk and spoke in a low tone, “Melchior will be returning to the Royal Academy immediately. His things may be sent later today. The same is true for Nikolaus. He will be confined to the dormitory for one week. He is not to be left unattended at anytime. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, My Lord. It shall be done,” Haldis said while Melchior’s entire retinue crossed their arms and lowered their heads. Then, they were dismissed. Melchior saw an ordonnanz pass through the wall as they exited. He wasn’t particularly happy about not being allowed to say any farewells. He also wanted to write a letter to his temple attendants to apologize and forewarn them about the incoming directive. The sadness and anxiety in their faces would continue to haunt him for a long while.

As per the Archduke’s orders, he was marched directly from the office to the teleportation hall. At the end of the hall, just barely covered in light shadow, stood Lady Florencia with her own retainers. She held her hands elegantly folded before her and looked out with a completely straight face. Melchior assumed he’d avoided her displeasure and was shocked and terrified to see her waiting where he least expected. Every step down the hall filled him with anxiety. “My darling boy,” she began. “I was greatly surprised to receive your knight’s ordonnanz this morning. I know your father has spoken with you already but I had to see for myself that you are indeed unharmed.”

Melchior lowered his eyes and clasped his own hands. “I am sorry to have worried you, mother.” His heart beat furiously and shuddered painfully.

She stepped forward and lifted his head by the chin. He avoided her eyes. “Do not avoid my gaze. You must project confidence at all times,” she instructed. With great effort he met her eyes. They were also slightly red and filled with mingling rage and sadness. “It is incorrect to say I was worried. I was frightened then relieved and finally, wrathful. Look at me,” she said when he again looked away. “You know better than this.”

He remained silent. It hurt to see her so upset and he had no good answers to give to the implicit question: Where is the good sense I taught you to have?

“Zargerecht tells me you are struggling with new and complicated situations,” she said, changing the subject and fitting her normal smile back to her face. All the complex emotions disappeared being her mask. Melchior couldn’t feel relieved. He knew as well as anyone that his mother still felt her emotions even if they didn’t show. Her ability to hide them was part of what made her so intimidating. She was a perfect Archduke Candidate and Melchior felt he would never live up to her expectations. “I believe your problem has a very simple solution. Do not forget your status. If your status is greater, demand deference. If it is not, offer obsequience. It is very simple. You should not need to be explicit if you project confidence in your authority,” she explained.

“Thank you for your counsel, Mother. I will endeavor to improve,” he replied. It did sound easy when she said it but he found it difficult to understand just what authority he had to be confident in. He was keenly aware that there was a version of him in her mind that was capable of doing all these things so he felt afraid she would realize he could not. Hopefully he would learn before she lost faith.

“I look forward to seeing you improve. Go now, as ordered by the Archduke. We shall meet again before the Interduchy Tournament. I pray that you live well with the divine protection of the gods until then,” she said and gave him a pat on the head.

“I am going now. May our parting be brief,” he replied. He stepped onto the magic circle with Zargerecht and Nikolaus and was promptly swallowed by black and gold light.

Chapter Text

The Benefits of Gravitas

The dormitory was in a state of relaxed activity. Most people were mostly done with their classes. The few people still studying had huddled together with a few dedicated tutors while everyone else was at their leisure. Aside from the knights who were competing, the younger and weaker knights had gone home along with the scholars not engaged in rigorous research and the attendants not employed by an Archduke Candidate. Melchior had arrived between ditter practices, so he entered this calm atmosphere rather than a mostly empty common room. He was greeted by the knights guarding the teleporter but none of his retainers were around. Zargerecht mumbled something to a bird and sent it off.

Neither the bird nor anyone else had come to greet them by the time they walked to the common room. The only one of Melchior’s retainers they could find was Pepin who was tutoring another student from the attendant course.

“Pepin,” Zargerecht called, much to the boy’s surprise. He looked up with a frightened expression then fixed a smile to his lips and rushed over.

“Lord Melchior, we were not informed you would return so soon. We were told to expect you next Sproutday,” he said.

“The Archduke ordered him to return early. Where is Kolteruze?” Zargerecht responded.

“At this time, he is likely still in bed or just waking up,” Pepin replied. “I can assist with anything you need until he arrives.”

“It is halfway to third bell. Why is he still in bed?” Zargerecht replied curtly.

“We were not expecting Lord Melchior to arrive at this time. There is therefore no particular reason for him to wake up earlier so he generally doesn’t.” Zargerecht seemed to find this answer even more infuriating than anything else. He seemed prepared to begin ranting but controlled himself. He had to prepare Melchior’s room with or without the assistance of the apprentices.

“Get him up and get him down here,” he snapped at Pepin before turning to go to Melchior’s room. He was met by the stairs by a tired looking Kolteruze. The apprentice attendant handed Zargerecht his ordonnanz before calmly ignoring him to walk over and greet Melchior.

“Welcome back, Lord Melchior. Please forgive my tardiness and the incompleteness of your welcome. We were not informed you would be arriving at this time,” he intoned with a slight bow. Zargerecht stood by the stairs for a moment, debating whether it was more important to give his lecture now rather than later, then disappeared deeper into the dorms.

Melchior remembered the advice he’d just received from his mother. He stood up straight and said in a clear voice. “I have returned by order of the Archduke. Pepin, assist Zargerecht with my chambers. Kolteruze, I would like a report on what has occurred in my absence.”

Kolteruze also stood up straighter. Melchior would generally have apologized for the inconvenience. The older boy felt a little proud that he was showing more dignity even if it was a bit grating to be ordered around by a ten year old. “Of course. Shall I prepare tea first or report immediately?” he replied.

Melchior’s facade cracked momentarily. Should he have had Pepin make tea before sending him away so he could have his report immediately? He paused. Kolteruze had been asleep seemingly until receiving the missive. Maybe Pepin would have been a better person to ask but Zargerecht looked ready to fight with Kolteruze. He’d wanted to avoid that conflict but should he care as an Archduke Candidate? He was barely a few minutes into trying to be the Archduke Candidate his mother expected he could be and found he was already floundering.

“Ah, yes, please prepare tea. Then we can discuss.” He said and looked around for a good place to sit. The common room wasn’t very full but the thin layer of students didn’t leave much extra space.

“I will secure a meeting room and collect those of your retainers which are available at the moment. Should I tell them to come even if they are engaged?” In a similar situation, Kolteruze was sure a master would summon people even from classes but Melchior wasn’t normally so strict and didn’t seem entirely transformed by his new persona.

“There is no need to call people away from prior engagements. We will have our evening meeting where I will explain and hear their reports,” Melchior replied.

“It shall be done,” Kolteruze said and deposited Melchior in a spare chair before walking off quickly. Three birds launched from his arm with the swing of his wheat stalk. Something about seeing the schtappe he’d designed made Melcior feel at ease. He was trying to improve but it would be safe to be himself with his retainers. They were still the friends who worked with him all the time.

In no time at all, Melchior was shuffled into a meeting room. Kolteruze didn’t mention that he kicked out a group of scholars who were mostly done working but still annoyed to be disturbed. Since the attendants had taken over an entire room the scholar’s felt emboldened to have one of their own. They’d hung hooks for various magic tools and were storing boxes of experimental documents and prototypes. Charlotte had allowed it since the cross discussion seemed to be improving everyone’s research but the knight’s we now grumbling about not having a room to themselves. Melchior looked around the scholar’s meeting room while Kolteruze rolled in a tea cart. He skipped the warming kettle and poured water directly through a bluestone ring, boiling it instantly. Nikolaus balked. He hadn’t used many of the tools attendants did but he knew from Pepin’s complaints that bluestone items tended to drink more mana the more intensely they were used. Boiling water that fast must have used a ridiculous amount.

With the tea set, Melchior listened to Kolteruze’s report. Most of the attendants had calmed their fervor and/or gone home for the winter. Charlotte and Wilfried’s attendants were preparing for tea parties and socializing. Wilfried was planning to attend a few Gewinnen gatherings over the next few weeks as well as hunts planned with his friends. Charlotte was in the midst of preparing a large tea party for all the female Archduke Candidate’s from the top ten duchies. Melchior hadn’t received many invitations himself but Wilfried and Charlotte had both proposed events he could attend with them. “Wilfried wants to introduce you to his friends. You should take him up on it, otherwise you might struggle to meet the older Archduke Candidates,” Kolteruze advised.

He and Pepin had also been preparing gifts for him to take when the need arose. The kitchen was briefed on how to bake small cakes with his preserved fruit on top. “You're the only one with honeyed fruits so Charlotte and Wilfried won’t be able to copy you. Charlotte is a bit jealous but you can mollify her with one of the cakes and a promise to acquire some for her next year. It helps that you weren’t planning this for ages or something.” Once that ran out, he could default to cookies infused with his favorite tea. As a first year, no one was expecting avant-garde offerings. Ehrenfest also wasn’t forcing anything new but trying to cement their recipes as go-to choices.

“Be sure to save one apfelsige and some honey,” Melchior reminded. He still hadn’t had the chrysanthemum tea with Kirk.

“As you wish,” Kolteruze said and continued. Wilfried was mostly engaged in preparations for treasure stealing ditter. Any knight still in the dormitory was doing training while his scholars and any others he’d manage to impress into service were brewing potions and magic tools. Veremund had escaped muster by being engaged in the tanning scheme with Melchior for which the medscholar sent his thanks.

“Is Wilfried struggling to acquire assistance? Shouldn’t the whole dormitory be banding together to defeat Dunkelfelger?”

“Yes and no. Those outside of his faction or who see no reason to court his favor are finding excuses not to spend their time and mana. More people are trying to publish research this year as a result. They’ve also been making overtures to Isolde and Flautzeal since being your scholar would give them a good excuse without having to rebuff Wilfried directly. Speaking of, Theodore has been fielding questions from the knights since Sigsnyr is too busy and Zipporah is a girl. He naturally knows the least about how you choose retainers which has made it easy to tell them nothing of value.”

“Why does it matter that Zipporah is a girl?” Melchior asked. If Sigsnyr was unavailable, she was the only person who might know what he would say and she was Melchior's second highest ranked apprentice knight.

“I can't say for certain but I think it is a combination of not wanting to appear to be courting her and a belief that she can't be very close to you,” Kolteruze replied. He added that it didn't make much sense to him either.

At about this time his other retainers began to arrive. Nikolaus opened the door for Zipporah and Theodore who both looked like they'd been running. “My lord, we beg your magnanimous grace for our tardiness,” Zipporah said for both of them.

“I am not troubled. You were not properly informed before my coming,” Melchior replied. Theodore regarded him with wide eyes before remembering to bow again and moving to stand next to Nikolaus by the wall. “Please continue, Kolteruze.”

“At once. I will leave further talk of knights to Zipporah. That leaves only the report about everyone’s classes. Sigsnyr will not complete his exams until approximately two weeks before the Interdutchy Tournament but has much more free time now. Isolde has only those classes which involve a schtappe. Everyone else has completed their course of study for the year.” Melchior nodded and smiled broadly at his retainers. He couldn't help but be proud of them.

“You have all worked hard. It brings me both joy and pride to be served by those so capable,” he said, earning smiles from everyone in turn. He then turned to Zipporah who waited beside Kolteruze to give her report.

“We are compiling a list of those knights making inquiries so I will only list them now if you insist,” she began. Melchior agreed to just look at the list later so she continued. “We have received invitations from Lord Leibshitze to socialize. Since you were not here we’ve delayed responding for the most part. As for other invitations, Isolde has more information but Lady Charlotte has asked that you accompany her to a tea party hosted by Hauchletze where she and her friends intend to introduce their younger siblings. We did not give her a definite answer either even though we assume you wish to attend.”

“Absolutely,” Melchior squeaked, then resettled himself into a more dignified voice. “Please inform her that I would be delighted to attend so long as it does not conflict with my mandated confinement which ends in one week,” he corrected.

Everyone looked puzzled. “Your mandated confinement?” Zipporah asked.

“I shall explain when all are assembled for our evening meeting,” Melchior replied and gestured for her to continue.

No one wanted to let the topic go but they couldn't press as they might have before. “It is not for a couple of weeks yet. The knights are also training for ditter. Sigsnyr, Theodore, and I have been selected to participate. We will be taking turns attending training sessions so your schedule will not be affected.”

After this, Pepin and Zargerecht joined them as well. Kolteruze gave a brief review of the topics then opened the floor for any additional reports. Neither Pepin nor Zargerecht had anything to add as one was mostly busy with tutoring and the other hadn't been in the dormitory.

“Lord Melchior, would you kindly explain the reason for this impromptu return?” Zargerecht asked. Kolteruze explained that Melchior would tell everyone at once that evening. “My Lord, we will be better able to serve you if we are better informed,” Zargerecht pressed. His entire demeanor said he was unwilling to drop the conversation without a satisfying answer. Melchior could already imagine the lecture he would receive. With so much free time left in the day, there would be little to constrain its length plus he would have to reexplain and gather more lectures from his other retainers. It was of vital importance that he dodge the question now.

He sat back in his chair and did his best to mimic Sylverster's serious face. “I do not think a delay of a few bells will cause a noticeable impact. There is much to catch up on and do now that I have returned so I will delay my explanation until tonight. I will not hold you in contempt should your lack of knowledge impact your work until then,” he said in a relaxed but firm tone. At least he hoped it seemed authoritative without seeming forced.

Zargerecht regarded him with a frown for once. He was faced with the same inner conflict between treating Melchior as he normally would and respecting the gravitas he was attempting to project. In the end, his traditionalist nature won out. If Zargerecht wanted Melchior to behave more like a proper master, he would need to transition to treating him like one.

“As you wish. I will do my utmost in spite of these challenges. Please share with us when you deem it appropriate,” Zargerecht replied.

Melchior struggled not to break out into a silly grin. He nodded gravely even as he vibrated in his seat. Grace and dignity had some very nice benefits.

It turned out that Zipporah and Theodore had been at the library studying faebeasts next to Philine. The layscholar was a frequent user of the library as she continued to coordinate the collection of stories and manuscripts for Rozemyne. Archnobles from Alexandria would sometimes accompany her to make it easier to secure a corral and certain texts but with the socializing season beginning in earnest and the Interdutchy Tournament peaking over the horizon, she was finding it harder to find an escort. Melchior sent Zipporah back to her and kept Theodore so Nikolaus could settle into his room and change out of his blue robes.

Zargerecht left him to Kolteruze so he could manage the transfer of Melchior's belongings while Pepin continued tutoring. The two of them found a spot to relax in the common room. Kolteruze brought Melchior a book of notes for the first year of the knight's course before accepting his lord's offer to sit as well without even a moment of hesitation. They sat thus engaged in their book and quiet dozing until a sharp cry from across the common room roused them.

Isolde's shadow loomed over Kolteruze as his eyes slipped open lazily. “You didn't inform me that Lord Melchior had returned!” she fumed.

Kolteruze sighed heavily. “You do not have a schtappe so I couldn't send you an ordonnanz unless you are happy to ask the scholars at your meeting for help and draw attention to your lack,” he said in a matter of fact way. Before she could interject again he cut her off. “Yes, I could have alerted your attendant and sent her searching all over the Royal Academy, leaking the information that Lord Melchior has returned abruptly to all of Yurgenschmidt. As I was not ordered to ensure your presence at the expense of your activities I chose discretion. And, though it is not my place to say, you have yet to greet our lord,” he finished and closed his eyes again.

“I offer greetings on this morning ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life,” she intoned with a bow. “I didn't know you would be back so soon. Did something happen?”

Melchior calmly closed his book and assumed an attitude to deflect all questions. “Indeed, I have returned. I will explain the reason for my impromptu appearance at our meeting this evening. Zipporah tells me you have information for me,” he said.

Isolde stood still with her smile frozen on her face. “I… yes, Lord Melchior. I have much to inform and discuss with you. I have prepared reports and notes. May I retrieve them from my room?”

He gave her a polite nod like Lady Florencia generally gave her scholars and reopened his book. She walked away with a mixed expression but her back perfectly straight. Kolteruze didn't need to be asked to secure a meeting room. By the time Isolde returned with her bundle of boards and papers, he was ready to guide them back to the scholars’ room.

Isolde had an incredible volume of information to share. She’d spent most of her free time visiting acquaintances in other duchies and talking to the attendants of Archduke Candidates. Most of her knowledge was about peoples’ preferred snacks and teas which Kolteruze graciously accepted. She also had notes about his siblings' activities which were more detailed but broadly said the same things Kolteruze had already told him. There were notes on both women's and men's fashion trends. His brooches were a frequent topic of discussion since Isolde wore hers at all times. He informed her that new designs were incoming for next year which brought a truly radiant smile to her face.

There were two particularly interesting bits of intelligence. Torsten of Berschman was actively removing his competition for Charlotte’s hand and Isolde had solved the mystery of the staring prince. Perhaps Melchior should have cared more about questions that would greatly impact the future of his duchy but he could not be pragmatic in the face of such arcane knowledge.

“Tell me. Why does he do that? Its so strange. How did you find out?” he tittered.

Isolde leaned in with a smug smile. “I asked Lady Philine. She said he used to do the very same thing to Lady Rozemyne,” she declared.

“That's not quite a full explanation,” Melchior sighed. He’d gotten excited for nothing.

“Oh but it is. You see, he does it because he picked up the habit of watching Rozemyne because he is in love with her,” she explained.

Melchior continued to be confused. He worked his brain to try to put the pieces together but every conclusion felt stranger than the last. “Do you mean to imply that he is now in love with me?” he ventured even though he knew it was certainly not the case.

“Oh, um, no. At least I don't think so. I think that from a certain angle and in the correct light you resemble Lady Rozemyne from when she was a child which prompts similar treatment.”

Melchior glanced back at Kolteruze just to see if they were hearing the same things. Their eyes met and Kolteruze tipped his head from one side to the other and squinted. “I suppose if one were to look from far away and very quickly. Your hair is a similar color,” he offered.

“Thank you for trying to find an answer. I will not say that you are wrong, only that it is difficult to believe.”

Isolde scowled. She’d felt very accomplished for discovering this secret even if it only required a single question to the right person. Still she had a few more things to add. “Speaking of Aub Alexandria. She sent an invitation to have tea at your earliest convenience. I believe she wants to fit you in before her schedule becomes too full with invitations she cannot refuse.”

“As I am confined to the dormitory for one week, please tell her I can meet with her any time after that. Confer with the knights to decide on a precise date and time,” he replied. It was very difficult to contain his excitement. Tea with Rozemyne was one of the activities highest on his list of things to do at the Royal Academy. Isolde seemed not to notice his valiant effort to remain poised.

“You're confined to the dorm? Why, what happened?”

“He’ll explain this evening,” Kolteruze replied. She glared at him since she couldn't really glare at Melchior. “Shall we go out to lunch?” he added.

“Indeed. I missed breakfast this morning,” Melchior said and gestured that he wished to stand up. He had to gesture because Kolteruze had paused midway through moving to assist him upon hearing he’d skipped a meal. The apprentice attendant swallowed his question and continued moving the chair back.

Flautzeal's reaction was very similar to Isolde's. He was even more annoyed because he was already sitting with everyone else at the lunch table yet no one had mentioned it. He didn't get a chance to ask because Wilfried stuttered in shock, “Melchior, weren't you returning next week?” Isolde placed her fist in her hand and muttered about knowing she was forgetting something.

“It was somewhat of a sudden decision, dear brother. I was so terribly bored all alone in the Northern Building,” Melchior replied while trying not to look like he was hiding something. His retainers whispered around him. Some asked if he really had just gotten bored while others speculated it was much more complex. Thankfully, Wilfried was fooled or else wasn't all too concerned. “I can imagine that you were. How was the Lord of Winter hunt?” he teased.

Melchior grimaced. Wilfried was well aware how little he enjoyed being locked in his room by himself during the hunt. “I was in my chambers the whole time so I can only say that it was successful. You will have to inquire with Ehrenfest for more details.”Wilfried shared a laugh with his retainers then let the matter rest. He went back to eating and discussing something about ditter.

Since Gerianne was absent, Her chair was filled by Sigsnyr. Melchior hadn't realized how used to her presence he’d gotten. It was strange to see so much person out of that corner of his eye. “How was the Dedication Ritual?” Sigsnyr asked casually. Melchior felt slightly unnerved that Sigsnyr wasn't carrying on with Zipporah like usual.

“It went very quickly. We had much assistance from the castle. Haldis’s wife even came to help,” Melchior replied.

Sigsnyr gave a murmur of interest, “And how were Lothar and company. Are they keeping warm this winter?”

Melchior’s fork stopped moving. He looked down then remembered not to look down and sat up straighter. “They have issued no complaints so I can only assume they are content,” he forced out with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

“Lord Melchior, you needn't lie,” Sigsnyr said in a very low voice. Melchior turned to look at him. The older boy continued eating as though he hadn't said anything particularly devastating. “It is just that Pepin looks so very concerned while Nikolaus is avoiding the topic as though it burns his throat to speak of it.” From her usual place Isolde could just barely hear the words exchanged. She knew she should offer sound blockers but her curiosity was too strong to excuse herself from the conversation.

Melchior felt an intense pressure from Sigsnyr’s smile. The apprentice knight had been in Melchior's service since his baptism. His loyalty was unquestionable while his knowledge of Melchior in particular made it impossible to hide his true feelings. Melchior felt certain he would spill everything and wondered if maybe he didn't need too.

“I was told you intend to explain this evening so I will not press. It is just… I’ve received the strange directive that you are not to be left alone. Will I have to worry about you between now and this evening?” Isolde didn't even breathe while Zipporah placed a hand on Sigsnyr’s arm. Melchior just shook his head. “That is good. We can attend our afternoon training unburdened by anxiety,” he said. The rest of their meal was taken in silence. Only Flautzeal and Kolteruze seemed able to carry on a conversation.

With his knights called away, Melchior was stuck in his room. Isolde seemed particularly troubled by this. Flautzeal and his attendants all joined him in sorting through reports and drinking tea. Zargerecht had finished sending Haldis the list of things to be sent back and was engaged with something in the retainers room.

Despite the idle chatting and tea sipping, Melchior could not sit calmly. He could hear the low rumble of Sigsnyr’s voice judging him at the back of his mind. The fun of that morning felt so far away.

The Explaining to Do

This time, they were in an unclaimed meeting room. The white walls and tasteful tapestries gave a pleasant but sterile air compared to the industrious clutter of the spaces claimed by professions. Melchior was the only person sitting while his retainers stood around the table. Even Zargerecht was within his field of view, his usual smile replaced with a thin line.

No one goaded him into beginning but the unbroken attention was too much to bear. “When will Gerianne be returning from Ehrenfest?” he asked. Every delay felt worthwhile at the moment.

“Gerianne will remain in Ehrenfest until the Interduchy Tournament. She has completed her classes and has no duties as your retainer. There is no reason to bear the expense of teleporting her,” Zargerecht replied.

“I see,” Melchior said. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or sad. Gerianne had other work she wanted to do. She was assisting a professor and he was used to having her around. “Was this Father’s decision?”

“He was in agreement,” Zargerecht answered. Pepin frowned deeply. Zargerecht’s dislike for Gerianne was well known but to think he would block her return when she was obviously important to Melchior. He considered asking for more details but Zargerecht pressed for the promised explanation.

“The Archduke has decreed that I return early to the Royal Academy and be confined to the dorms for one week as punishment for sneaking out of the temple,” he began. “I know this will interrupt some plans you may have had. For this I apologize.” He was then quiet. Perhaps no one would ask for more details.

“These are all things we know, Lord Melchior,” Isolde said. “You have conspicuously withheld that there are also orders not to leave you alone.” She held one elbow in her hand and tapped her temple with the other. There was such mystery surrounding his return and his attitude only added intrigue. It was impossible not to ask for more information.

He looked sideways. It was always unlikely that a perfunctory explanation would suffice. Melchior sighed, he avoided looking at Sigsnyr or Pepin as he elaborated. “This morning, I left the temple to gather winter fruits in the commoner forest. Naturally, the Aub is displeased.”

Sigsnyr looked at Nikolaus who shook his head. Zargerecht pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is most unlike proper behavior. Did you not agree not to leave your chambers and put yourself at risk?” he asked.

“I did promise not to leave my Royal Academy chambers alone,” Melchior replied. It was a technicality but he did not want to seem like he broke his promise. Pepin and Kolteruze would suffer if he had.

“May I speak freely?” Pepin asked. Melchior was still for a long while. He refused to meet Pepin's eyes but nodded. “Lord Melchior, you promised Zargerecht you would not leave your dorm room without proper guard and while that was explicitly a promise only for here at the Royal Academy I do not doubt you know he means to include any accommodations you find yourself in. We must ask why you have broken our trust?” Melchior shivered. Pepin's voice carried a sharpness he’d never experienced. It seemed like he was angry about something more important than having to wake up early. But Melchior couldn't give him a good answer. At the time, it truly felt like the only thing to do.

“I would like to excuse myself,” Flautzeal interjected.

“Why?” Zargerecht replied.

Flautzeal directed his answer to Melchior. “I recognize that most of your retainers are also your close friends. Our relationship is cordial but it cannot compare to the depth of feelings between you and most others in this room. I believe I have heard all a retainer need hear. As such, I would like to excuse myself,” Flautzeal flickered his dark blue eyes around the room. Isolde looked more curious than anything while Zipporah had a professional sort of worry on her face. They wanted the whole story but didn't seem emotionally invested in the events. By contrast Pepin looked like he’d been struck across the face. The normally skittish boy gripped the chair in front of him and stood stone still. His manner was unflinching and the questions in his eyes were far more complex than an attendant could ask of his lord.

“You may go,” Melchior replied quietly. He didn't watch while Flautzeal bowed and exited. “Would anyone else like to be excused?”

Flautzeal reasoning hung over Kolteruze, Zipporah, and Theodore. They glanced at each other and looked at Pepin. None could claim a close friendship with Melchior and Kolteruze wasn't even close friends with anyone else. Still, he wanted to know what was going on. He’d spent the whole day attempting to piece things together without much success. Even the explanations thus far felt disconnected to the questions. Melchior went gathering, a fairly normal activity, and now everyone seemed wounded beyond reckoning. No one else chose to leave.

“What exactly happened?” Zargerecht asked since no one seemed willing to speak up.

“It is as I’ve said,” replied Melchior. Things were dragging on and might continue to drag on but what could he give except a simple timeline of events. Admitting how brash he’d been felt impossible at the moment.

“You left the temple this morning?” Sigsnyr mused. His voice was calm, just as it had been at lunch. Indeed he was too calm, entirely mirthless, and precise. “With the Lord of Winter hunt completed, I imagine Aub Ehrenfest sent you back to the temple where there are fewer threats than the Winter Playroom allowing you to leave the Northern Building despite your knight's need to rest after the hunt. As they were taking turns having time off, your guard would naturally be less. The end of the hunt also marks the beginning of calm weather allowing for the collection of a certain winter treat highly prized in the temple. This gathering takes place in the dark, predawn hours when both your guards and attendants would be sleeping.” He looked around. Isolde had the good sense to feign distress but Kolteruze looked openly curious. “We can therefore assume, Kolteruze, that Lord Melchior traveled by himself into the commoner woods this morning.”

Kolteruze jumped at his name but looking around, he surely had the only purely inquisitive expression. The longer Sigsnyr spoke the more aggressively Zipporah frowned. Even Isolde was uncharacteristically cowed. “That seems very unlikely,” Kolteruze replied. No Archduke Candidate would trudge into the snow for fruits of all things.

“And yet,” Pepin said. “Please tell us why?”

“I cannot say,” Melchior sighed.

“You cannot or you will not?” Zargerecht asked. “We cannot help you if you do not inform us of your struggles. If these fruits are so important, you can send someone to retrieve them. There was no need to go by yourself. You must learn to rely on your retainers. We do not see assisting you as a burden. If you wish to keep odd hours, you need only inform us. It is admirable to be considerate of others' sleep but that is no reason to put yourself in danger. It is not proper for an Archduke Candidate to proceed alone anywhere. We need not even broach the subject of going to such uncontrollable places as forests. There are plenty of amusements befitting your station. There is no need to emulate the commoner child by hefting forage through the woods.” He continued to lecture about comportment and status and the proper way to go about things. He explained the appropriate channels to use for planning a hunt and encouraged Melchior that he would be allowed greater freedom in the coming years.

Zipporah listened to this speech. She felt increasingly like something was amiss. It did not seem to her that Melchior’s problem was an inability to behave like an Archduke Candidate. He’d just spent the day deflecting all questions through force of personality. In this meeting his only failure was not tossing them all out after disclosing all he wished to disclose. He was even maintaining a neutral expression under intense questioning. The more Zargerecht spoke the more she felt he was talking himself out of his opportunity to understand. He was also drawing greater and greater ire from those assembled.

Pepin looked particularly severe. No one wanted to look at him, least of all Melchior. Were Zargerecht assessment correct, it would be impossible to reconcile Pepin's reaction with the stated events. Melchior doing something so dangerous was so far removed from the normal ideas about statuses and proper manners that there had to be something deeper. This was neither about fruits or a change of scenery. Melchior wanted something that being a proper Archduke Candidate could not give him. She considered cutting him off but Melchior did it for her.

“I understand, Zargerecht. I have heard your counsel. There is no need to plan an outing for either the end of Winter or the beginning of Spring. I have had my fill of the outdoors for the time being,” he said. He gave Zargerecht a performative smile that suggested their meeting was over. “I intend to keep the same schedule here at the Royal Academy as I did before the Dedication Ritual so there is no need to alter the attendant schedule,” he added. Zargerecht looked annoyed. He hadn't been planning to repeat his previous tactic but he still loathed being called out explicitly. “It is growing late. I…”

“I wish to speak with you alone,” Sigsnyr interrupted. Though Melchior still refused to meet his eyes he nodded.

“Everyone else may leave.”

“My lord you cannot be alone with a knight,” Zargerecht chided. Melchior was willing to look at him.

They stared for a long moment before Melchior added, “Zipporah shall remain.”

“She cannot be trusted to protect you from Sigsnyr,” Zargerecht said. Isolde's eyes grew wide. Her immaculate act of looking distressed melted into unconcealable wonder.

“Do you mean to imply that our friendship will render me unable to protect my lord. You may be assured that is not the case,” Zipporah snapped. She briefly entertained the idea that he simply thought her too weak but the look in his eyes said he thought her overly smitten.

“Your relationship is rather close. One could easily predict a hesitation at the critical moment,” Zargerecht replied.

“You may be assured that is not the case,” she repeated.

Zipporah stood to her full height and stared directly into Zargerecht’s face. Her cheeks were flushed with rage yet her expression was totally calm. Zargerecht was uncharacteristically taken by his emotions. He alternated between a scowl and a sneer before turning to Melchior. “You should select someone else,” he said with a glance toward Theodore.

Melchior watched this small spat as he had so many recently. The tension made him anxious but not as anxious as the impending conversation with Sigsnyr. He still hadn’t met the young knight’s eyes even once since lunchtime. So he delayed answering by looking pensive. “Do you not think that facing Zipporah would cause Sigsnyr to hesitate at the critical moment. As it stands there are few knights in this dormitory who could protect me if he chose to cause me harm. Theodore is not one of them,” Melchior responded. He looked at Theodore who was nodding in agreement. Melchior placed a hand on his cheek in a display of worry “Their close relationship might be all there is to protect me.”

Zargerecht looked angry. Having just given a thorough and exhaustive speech he was feeling high on righteousness. Only just now they’d discussed proper behavior and Melchior was ignoring protocol and propriety once again. “It is as you say, Lord Melchior. You should not make yourself so vulnerable by dismissing your other retainers.”

Sigsnyr displayed a radiant smile. “Lord Zargerecht, I have served as Lord Melchior’s guard for many years now. In all that time, have I ever shown any inclination to run him through?” he asked sweetly.

Zargerecht looked bewildered and a bit disturbed. It was normal for nobles to hide their true feelings behind smiles but Sigsnyr’s tone and countenance were so far removed from his crude words that it was unsettling.

“Do Lord Karstedt and the Aub not discuss grave matters on occasion? Despite her exceptional skills we cannot call Lady Rihyarda adequate protection from the Knight Commander,” Sigsnyr continued in a casual tone.

“You imagine yourself to have as much trust as the Knight Commander?” Zargerecht huffed. Sigsnyr did not respond. He only turned to look at his lord.

“Sigsnyr and I have something to discuss. Zipporah will attend. Everyone one else may leave,” Melchior ordered. He was a small person and his voice was still high pitched but he spoke with practiced authority. Zargerecht seemed prepared to argue again but caught Melchior’s eye. It would seem Sigsnyr did have as much trust as the Knight Commander.

“Very well,” Zargerecht said and began leading the other retainers out. He shut the door with a final reproachful look at his charge.

Chapter Text

A Private Discussion

Zipporah removed a pair of sound blocking tools from her pouch and placed them on the table before Melchior before retreating to the door. Neither boy moved to take them. Sigsnyr walked from his place near the opposite end of the table and knelt down.

Melchior sighed. “Please just sit,” he said with a gesture to the closest chair.

“Please look at me.” Melchior continued to avert his eyes. “I do not intend to chide or interrogate you,” Sigsnyr added. He was no longer smiling but his features still held a softness.

Melchior finally looked at him. Sigsnyr did not look angry. He looked afraid. Melchior looked away.

“Lord Melchior, you know I am not opposed to adventures. You know I am willing to support you even in subterfuge.” Melchior nodded. “I ask only that you make proper preparations and employ due caution.”

“I am sorry Sigsnyr. I did not mean to worry everyone. I will be more careful with my safety.”

“I do not ask that you merely be careful. I ask that you hold yourself sacred,” Sigsnyr pleaded. “If you come to harm, there is no telling what Sylvester will do in his grief.”

“What Father will do?” Melchior asked. He looked at Sigsnyr again, this time with a look of confusion. There were tears staining his cheeks. “Do not cry. I promise I won't do it again.”

Sigsnyr touched his face. Melchior fiddled with his sleeves and belt. In all his pockets there wasn't a single handkerchief. He definitely owned some but there had never been a need for him to personally carry them. Someone else always provided one the moment it was needed. That someone was often Sigsnyr in fact.

“My lord. I know your promises are bound in golden flames ¹ but I can see that there is much more at play here. There is a fundamental lack of understanding of the stakes. If we as retainers fail to keep you safe we will be killed. Our families will be killed. Those who recommend us may be killed and even if they are not, the stain on their reputation will tarnish their house for generations. Not even the trust built by House Linkburg would survive such a catastrophe.

“I worry about your safety because you are my friend, yes, but also because it is my duty. I swore oaths to the gods that I would protect you. I will stand before the very sword of Ewigeliebe but I cannot protect you from yourself.”

Melchior looked deathly pale. He knew well the repercussions of serious crimes yet it hadn't occurred to him that his retainers might be killed. He’d been concerned about the discomfort of the temple clergy, not their lives. He couldn't reconcile his own worth with such a serious charge. The orphans could not defy him yet they could be killed for following his orders.

From her place at the door Zipporah watched him crumple, the armrests of his chair seemingly the only thing holding him up. He clutched his head and his mouth formed a silent scream.

Sigsnyr touched Melchior’s knee. A fresh stream of tears fell from his eyes. Even with their faces drawn into mirrored expression of distress, he didn't hold back. “I have brought my very best friend into your service because I genuinely believe you are worthy of our fealty. Thus I plead, as your friend and servant, rely on me. Let me keep you safe. Whatever troubles you, I will help you. Whatever threatens you, I will save you. Do not place yourself in danger and doom us all.”

“You have my word. I will bear what I must. I will not endanger you,” Melchior promised. He dabbed at Sigsnyr’s eyes with his sleeves and whispered his apologies over and over again.

“Stop it, stop it,” Sigsnyr said and batted the tiny hands away. He produced two handkerchiefs and gave one to Melchior as well as a magic tool for draining excess mana. Melchior glanced at it then looked away and concentrated on mopping his tears. “Lord Melchior? I should not presume you were deeply affected by our conversation but if I were, I’d ask if you don't need to make use of your magic tool?”

“It is alright. I will manage,” Melchior replied.

“Lord Melchior?”

After such a conversation, how could he obviscate. “It is in my hidden room.”

“Shall we go to your room then?”

“In Ehrenfest.” Sigsnyr clutched his magic tool tighter. Melchior scratched his head. “I wanted to make more progress with mana compression.”

“Mana Compression? You did have that whole episode. This explains why you didn't use it then,” Sigsnyr mused. “How long have you been compressing your mana?”

“You will be angry.”

“Surely not.” Melchior twiddled his thumbs. “Since you got the compression guide from Aub Alexandria? So spring? Last spring?” Sigsnyr asked.

Melchior just laughed nervously.

“Longer?” Melchior nodded. Sigsnyr sighed. “Why didn't you tell anyone?”

“No one would teach me.”

“That's because it's dangerous. In any case, are you alright right now?”

Melchior considered himself. It had been a harrowing ordeal but he’d spent so much mana dyeing parues that he wasn't feeling particularly burdened. His normal coping strategy and taking deep breaths seemed to suffice. “Yes. I used a lot of mana this morning.”

Sigsnyr raised an eyebrow. “Now that the important things are out of the way, I’m very curious about your adventure this morning. Tell me everything and I'll help you talk to Dedryck.”

“Do I need help talking to Dedryck?”

“After this, if he has his way, you won't see the sunny side of a balcony let alone leave the Northern Building until you come of age.”

Zipporah giggled at Melchior's unrefined squeak reminding the boys of her existence. Sigsnyr stood up and adjusted his breastplate. “We should rejoin everyone. Zargerecht is no doubt carving a trench in the ivory².”

The door opened and Melchior led his guards out to the rest of his retainers. Despite being released first, Flautzeal had remained outside the room the whole time. Everyone had marshaled their expressions so a stranger might never have known such an intense exchange just occurred. Only the lingering red in people's eyes gave away that tears had been shed.

After he released everyone to their leisure, Isolde marched Melchior back into the meeting room. Zargerecht and Nikolaus followed. This time she sat down.

“We must devise an approach. Do you want to tell your siblings?” She was almost bouncing in her chair. Melchior was finally collecting genuine secrets. He shook his head. Facing Charlotte would be awful while Wilfried's jealousy would be immense. It would also make it more difficult to hide the existence of parues from the general population of nobility. “I didn't think you would. So we must plan for what to say,” she said.

They went over several options and decided what his retinue would say when asked. Isolde had a long list of possible phrases by the end and an invincible smile on her face. Melchior felt he could trust her to contain the spread of information.

Once she excused herself, Melchior finally made his way to his room. It was much like he left it except a nightwatch bench had been added. The bell had also been moved to rest beside it. He almost groaned when he saw it. Would he be the first Archduke Candidate unable to sleep alone at the Royal Academy? There was only a little bit of time before bed. He spent it looking through the reports and invitations he hadn't been able to focus on. Sigsnyr’s words similarly weighed on him now, but they weren't as distracting.

It wasn't exactly accurate to say that Leibshitze had sent an invitation. He’d written a missive, rather too casual in form to send to an Archduke Candidate of another duchy, which inquired after his return and asked if he wished to have tea at some yet unspecified time. Melchior couldn't help but smile at the accompanying note from Isolde which offered scathing critique and advice on how to respond. It would be rude to send back his letter with markings but he’d leave such a bad impression if anyone else received such a note. Melchior ultimately decided it wasn't his responsibility to correct his friend.

Rozemyne’s invitation was perfectly formatted and composed on beautiful paper with floral inclusions. He penned a reply saying he would be staying in the dormitory for one week to manage things so his siblings could work on more important matters. He was sure to imply that Sylvester had requested this duty of him to make it seem like he wasn't able to just choose to socialize instead. Isolde could check it and send it tomorrow.

Both Kolteruze and Pepin were there to assist him before bed. Zargerecht was in the process of retrieving Melchior’s things and preparing for bed himself. He would take the first night watch. As he was stripped and settled into a bath Pepin’s professional smile sank into a frown. Melchior covered his bruise. He’d forgotten about it and remembered his father's promise to meet out punishment had he been even slightly injured.

“Do not tell Father, please Pepin, Kolteruze. It isn't painful but he will be so cross,” he pleaded. Kolteruze hadn't even been close enough to see and met this sudden outburst with confusion.

“You want us to help you conceal an injury?” Pepin asked.

“It is barely an injury,” Melchior said. Kolteruze joined them and looked him over.

“Where are you even injured?” Pepin pointed to the hand covering his chest. “Let me see,” Kolteruze ordered.

Melchior reluctantly revealed the nasty bruise. Kolteruze winced. He then touched Melchior on the shoulder and cast Heilshmerz’s Healing.

“Thank you.”

“It easier than trying to keep such a secret from Zargerecht,” Kolteruze replied. He’d have to wake up early for weeks just to help Melchior bathe and dress every morning to put the adult attendant off. No matter how mana intensive it was, anything was better than that. They finished getting him ready then waited from Zargerecht to return before excusing themselves.

Though it was strange for the Royal Academy, sleeping in his master’s room wasn't all that rare a thing for Zargerecht. He shuffled the boy into bed, as he had so many times over the years, then moved to the bench to sleep. Melchior went to bed feeling emotionally tired but not physically so.

Barely a Penance

His week in the dorms began. He was treated to the rare sight of Sigsnyr in his attendant uniform. His head apprentice knight insisted on wearing his knight uniform down to breakfast then changing before class so the only opportunity Melchior had to witness it was while he was rushing out or rushing back in to change. Compared to other knights, Sigsnyr was rather petite but compared to other attendants he looked muscular and solid.

He spent most of his time with Kolteruze and his knights as both Isolde and Flautzeal had tons of socializing and other commitments planned for the remaining days before Melchior's official return date. Kolteruze’s plans seemed to have primarily involved catching up on lost sleep which wasn't a good enough justification for Zargerecht to allow him more free time. The most Melchior could offer was letting him begin after breakfast. Pepin agreed to save him a snack so he’d have the maximum amount of time to spare in the morning.

The person with the most exciting plans turned out to be Sigsnyr. He made his request at their meeting on Melchior's second night. “I know very well I am asking a large favor but I fear I will not have another opportunity should this one pass,” he began. “My original plan was to spend this Earthday traveling to Schutzaria's gate.”

Everyone’s eyes grew wide. Even Zipporah looked surprised. “Schutzaria's Country Gate is in Ehrenfest. What do you mean you intend to travel there?” Zargerecht asked. Sigsnyr explained that he meant the one on academy grounds. “That dangerous hobby of which you spoke some time ago,” Zargerecht grumbled. “You still insist on continuing to risk life and limb?”

“It is no great risk. I have even been to this one before. It is just that the winds cover it in ice and snow. I needed a magic tool I hadn't brought with me,” Sigsnyr replied. “It isn't your choice anyway, Zargerecht.”

All eyes fell on Melchior. He tapped his temple. It did sound dangerous even if Sigsnyr could manage it. His plan involved camping out overnight after flying at top speed for half a day. It would be deadly cold and there were dangerous monsters. On the other hand, he’d recently vexed Sigsnyr to tears. His longest serving knight had been pursuing this goal for his entire tenure at the Royal Academy. If he felt he wouldn't be able to complete his tour should he miss this chance, Melchior felt he had to believe him and support him. “I will allow you to go,” he said. Zargerecht looked livid while everyone else continued to look surprised.

“Are you sure? What if something happens?” Isolde cried.

“You should consider this in isolation from other recent events,” Pepin added.

The scholars and attendants seemed scandalized but the knights didn't look worried. They seemed to be contemplating some other problem.

“We normally have training with the entire dormitory on that day. While your safety comes first, Wilfried will have questions if too many of your knights are absent despite you being in the dorms,” Theodore said.

Melchior wanted to garner as few questions as possible at the moment. “I can remain in my room during the knight training. Are there any other considerations?” he said.

“A great many,” Zargerecht replied.

“I have completed all the other preparations. I need only your permission. Though, I was wondering if I might borrow the large leather bag gifted to you early this winter,” Sigsnyr said. Melchior renewed his permission and offered the use of his bag to anyone that needed it and Sigsnyr for his trip. He blocked any further discussion on the topic by asking for details about their research.

Veremund was making progress on the skins but new ones were steadily added to his pile. Melchior’s knights kept him supplied with ingredients so his “research” continued. He took a chance to personally thank Melchior for giving him a reason to escape brewing duty.

“Is brewing for Wilfried so awful?” Melchior asked.

“No, not particularly. It's just that his scholars insist on being present for it, which means you have to appear at specific and inconvenient times,” Veremund replied. “I'm also using most of my mana on our research and your knight's potions.” He stood, wrapped in a wool coat, over a brewing pot as they spoke in the training room.

Melchior's eyes grew wide. Had they truly impressed a random scholar into service. “Are they coercing you?”

Veremund vigorously shook his head. “Oh, no. I get an equal share in the potions but don't have to do any gathering or hunting so long as I do all the brewing. I’m not sure whether that’s fair but I also don't care. I have better access to better potions than ever before,” he replied.

Feeling relieved, Melchior left him to his work. He was doing so much brewing and processing that a brewing pot had been moved into the training room they’d taken over. The scraping of skins had fallen to Pepin and Kolteruze while Melchior was away. Initially, Kolteruze hadn't wanted to have anything to do with the project but the peer pressure exerted by Melchior’s retainer's had forced his hand. He proved to be faster and more skilled than anyone in the end because he pioneered using one’s schtappe. Using this magical extension of your body, it was impossible to cut through the skin if you didn't want to but it could aggressively remove extra meat and connective tissue. Sigsnyr made more and better stretching frames as well.

Melchior was able to observe all of this while he did his exercises. They'd attempted to leave space for the training room to maintain its original purpose but the smell and cold forced everyone else out. Only his own knights and Veremund used the room now. The big chair sat in its corner only occasionally accepting a lounger.

His replies were delivered to Rozemyne and Leibshitze as well as a new inquiry to Raphaela. Rozemyne's response was amazing. Between himself and Isolde they’d carefully woven a response to her invitation that would both communicate his inability to meet that week while obfuscating the reason. Maybe Philine was more attuned to his comings and goings than he thought or Rozemyne was an expert at deduction because she clearly knew he was bound by Sylvester’s orders but otherwise free.

“Since you are unable to visit me, I shall visit you,” she declared. Her notes were generally light on euphemism so there was no mistaking it. His retinue was thrown into turmoil as they had only three days to plan to host the Aub of the greatest duchy.

Melchior himself had little to do. To distract himself and to contribute to the ditter effort he visited the brewing room with his tools. Having observed a few brews now it didn't seem all that difficult.

The brewing room was full of scholars and knights chopping and stirring and drawing magic circles. The knights were tasked with making rejuvenation and healing potions while the scholars worked on more complex magic tools. Melchior’s offer of assistance was met without enthusiasm.

“You have a lot of mana but you’ve never brewed anything before,” Zipporah explained.

“Is it very hard to learn?” he asked.

“No but everyone is quite busy. Taking the time to teach you would slow them down but you can insist if you like,” she said. He shook his head. He wanted to help not get in the way. Nikolaus immediately recognized the look in his eye as one preceding an order for Melchior’s retainers to contribute in his stead.

“We can teach you. Right Zipporah,” he offered quickly. He tried to indicate with his eyes that trouble would meet them if they didn't. She regarded him quizzically. They were knights and capable of simple brewing but teaching a complete novice would be rather hard. Still he looked so panicked she had to agree.

“Yes, why don't we gather some materials. We can weigh and cut over there while we wait for a free brewing stand,” she said. Melchior looked delighted. All thoughts of tossing his retinue to the wolves were forgotten.

Nikolaus collected the necessary plants for a healing potion from the surplus stocks. The feverish gathering efforts of the first few days of term had filled everyone's storage and much of the dorm's communal coffers but rejuvenation potions were made and consumed so frequently that they were already running out. Healing potions weren't as in demand and had fewer overlapping ingredients than pure stamina or pure mana potions.

Zipporah still gave him a sidelong glance when he returned but didn't chastise him. The basic healing potion was simple enough. She cleaned all the tools then explained how the scale was used and watched while Melchior moved the weights and ingredients around and tapped the hanging plates making them bounce. He was very amused by the needle rapidly swinging back and forth. Eventually, everything was portioned and they could move on to cutting.

“Your knife is very sharp and unlike a schtappe, perfectly capable of cutting you. Always pay attention to where it is and what it's doing. If you drop it, do not attempt to catch it.”

Melchior listened carefully despite the clamor of the other students. He took the ornate brewing knife from his set and prepared to begin chopping. The counter was just a bit too high to work comfortably but he was able to slowly turn a root into irregularly shaped chunks without injuring himself. “It isn't the best chopping. You want to make the bits small and evenly sized,” she explained. Nikolaus showed him a method he had for processing the herbs. It involved rolling them under his hand until they formed a bundle then chopping madly.

After much timid cutting and fiddling, three piles of ingredients were more or less ready to go. A brewing pot was left for his use. The scholar previously working there looked delighted to have an excuse to take a break.

Nikolaus washed the pot and his brewing stick this time while Zipporah explained the process. “Put each ingredient in one at a time. For this potion, the order doesn't matter but that isn't usually the case. Once you add one, stir until it completely dissolves then add the next ingredient. Once you add the first ingredient, do not stop stirring until it flashes. It will be in a highly reactive state until its completion. It can burn or explode if you aren't careful.”

After absorbing her instructions, he took up his brewing stick with obvious trepidation.

“You needn't be so nervous. This is a very simple brew and we are here to support you,” Zipporah encouraged.

“I’m worried I’ll shatter the brewing stick,” Melchior admitted. It was a family heirloom after all.

“The ones they give students to use in class are built to a mednoble standard. Yours is unlikely to break from mana overload in the same way,” she replied. He nodded and prepared his heart.

As slowly as possible and with the thinnest stream he could manage, Melchior began stirring in the first ingredient. Nikolaus told him to move his stick faster but he otherwise seemed to be doing fine. It only took about a minute for it to melt. “That was quick,” Nikolaus noted. Once everything was melted, Melchior was left stirring for a while. While passing Mana Manipulation, the task felt arbitrary but now that he was brewing for real he understood. With nothing to gauge the strength of the steam it was hard to manage his flow. The mixing itself wasn't tiring but his anxiety around breaking things combined with such precise mana control felt taxing. He couldn't help but give a small cheer once the potion flashed.

Zipporah tipped it into a vial and examined it. “It appears to be the right color but we have no good way of testing its effectiveness. The brewing Professors have tools for testing but our dorm lacks such a thing.” She added a label and slipped it into a potion rack with other miscellaneous potions of dubious efficacy.

The other students were finishing up by this time so Nikolaus managed to steer Melchior out of the room. They could come help another day, he insisted. Melchior was happy to oblige. If he was tired after just one brew, he wondered how much help he could be.

He made plans to return the following day giving Nikolaus time to warn everyone. They managed to plan alternatives and settled on forcing Veremund to observe his practice in their training room. The scholar had more knowledge to impart and was better able to test the results. “It’s not poison and it does restore some mana,” was the verdict. Veremund ended up just drinking it since it wasn't effective enough to rely on in a higher stakes situation.

Since Veremund was offering even more assistance these days, Melchior felt he had to finish the drawing. He’d managed to learn only four of the animals he’d never seen before and added in a lion and a wolf to bulk out the selection. Though they were crude, turning his highbeast faestone into miniatures helped him work out the lighting. The result was a drawing of animals from wildly different habitats depicted as though they happend to find themselves next to the same creek. Veremund was beside himself with joy doubly so because Melchior also gave him a few of the practice sketches he wasn't ashamed of.

Much Needed Advice

The fateful day arrived. Melchior spent his morning reading reports and being too excited to think. Kolteruze was up earlier than usual and didn't even look particularly tired. Once breakfast was over, he left Melchior’s preparation to Zargerecht and Pepin and went off to direct the servants.

Melchior was put in a blue tunic and tied with a silver sash. His dark yellow cape helped him look less cold while the red droplet and fiery branch added a bit of interest. He thought about next year's ornaments. It would be nice to coordinate with Charlotte again, he thought. They would need to meet with her and Lady Brunhilde. Making the mistake of not including the Second Wife was something he didn’t want to repeat.

With the little bit of remaining time, Isolde sat with him for a strategy meeting. Melchior was getting used to these by now. He was able to communicate that he didn’t want to disclose the reason for his confinement nor the ongoing strife between his retinue. In his head he added that he wanted to conceal his desire to be demoted. Rozemyne showed such ambition. He doubted she would understand and her disappointment would be devastating. Besides that, he didn’t have any real secrets and didn’t know much about the happenings in the dormitory.

They settled on several topics to broach as well. He would attempt to talk about brewing since he was beginning to learn. He would share some of what he’d learned from the Klassenberg book so far. This meeting also presented an opportunity to ask after the recipes she’d invented using their ingredients.

In addition to gifting his self portrait, they were also bringing a few sheets of parchment from their “research”. Veremund said it was just enchanted enough to be used for magic letters and other low level projects. They were delaying the processing of the more magical skins until he’d better developed the tanning liquid.

After making such a huge mistake, he couldn’t help but be slightly less excited than he’d been for his tea party with Raphaela. Zargerecht would be standing back evaluating as usual. As for the preparations, Kolteruze had out done himself. They were using the main tea party room since Rozemyne usually brought several scholars in addition to her knights and attendants. He’d arranged for her favorite tea from those served in the temple and three different desserts. There was the cake with Melchior’s honeyed fruit, a tart filled with rumptof and whipped cream, and a cake composed of crepes layered with jam and cream and dyed with three colors of fruit juices. The tea party room was decorated with a couple of the tapestries similar to the ones in Alexandria. He’d asked Philine about them and been told they were motivational phrases and witticisms in a foreign language and also just made of paper. The one’s for this tea were covered in a fancy version of Isolde’s normal script and were short prayers to the gods. There were enough chairs to seat Melchior, his guest, her scholars and Isolde, and a four piece band.

“You hired Flautzeal’s quartet,” Melchior chirped when he saw his scholar sitting with musicians from other duchies.

“You wished to hire them at least once this year, no? If Aub Alexandria is impressed, he may obtain a very good patron,” Kolteruze replied. Melchior nodded and received greetings from Flautzeal’s friends. His scholar looked happier than he’d ever seen him. “We shall begin with a short selection while you enjoy the desserts,” he explained.

On the table was a small setting of cloth flowers attached to long sticks and arranged in a vase. Next to this was a pile of books. Zargerecht asked when they’d decided on books to gift. “They are not a gift. Lady Rozemyne always feels more comfortable when books are in the room. These are all volume’s she has read so she will not be tempted to read them during the event,” Kolteruze explained. Zargetecht noted that this was very unlike proper decoration and that the flowers would be more than enough while Kolteruze argued it was his responsibility to make their guests welcome regardless of their strange tastes. Melchior ordained that the books should remain. It was more important that Rozemyne enjoy herself than to be overly proper.

The bell rang to signify that their guest had arrived. Everyone took a knee to welcome the Aub of Alexandria the First. “I offer greetings on this day held in the warm embrace of the Geduldh the Goddess of Earth,” Melchior intoned. Rozemyne gave him a bright smile and bid him rise.

“I’m so glad we could meet. We have so much to catch up on,” she said and relaxed into her chair. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the books but recognition dawned and she didn’t reach out for one. She was wearing an understated red dress with a large, repeating, resist dyed pattern. This time, she wore a normal cloak edged with golden trim very similar in style to what Sylvester wore. Around her neck was yet another beautiful pendant and chain for her engagement faestone. Melchior found himself just as awestriken as before. It was a wonder why he hadn’t done a portrait of Rozemyne yet.

“Thank you ever so much for coming. We are so happy you would grace us with your esteemed presence,” Melchior said. Kolteruze placed all three desserts in front of him while Liseletta placed two in front of Rozemyne. He introduced them and took his first bites.

“They all sound delightful. I believe I will have some of the apfelsige cake. I’ve brought more cookies like we had at the Library Committee tea and this is ‘wagashi’, a sweet made from sugar and legumes.” The beautiful cookie was placed next to another small flower. It’s shape was smooth rather than the slight roughness of the cookies and a small stick was provided. Rozemyne lifted the whole small plate and used the stick to separate one petal. The translucent, powder pink skin hid a dark red interior which didn’t move or deform as jam might. The entire treat seemed the height of beauty and refinement despite its description. Kolteruze placed one before him without him needing to ask.

“Sister, you have out done all my expectations once again. This is so lovely, I can barely bring myself to eat it,” he said.

“I’m glad to receive your praise. Your artistic eye must be most discerning.”

Melchior took the mention of art to introduce the musicians. As they were all nobles, they each took the opportunity to make first time greetings. Then Flautzeal introduced the selection of songs and they began to play. It was different from most tea parties where the music was to add to the ambiance without calling attention to itself. This music wanted to be listened to and all the players were happy to be playing. It was only a short selection since the event was mostly about talking with Rozemyne so Flautzeal had opted for impact. They played two songs Melchior had never heard as well as a new arrangement of the song from the Bookworm Tea they’d only just received. Melchior was amazed they’d learned to play it so quickly. Rozemyne looked positively delighted to hear it.

“How wonderful. I am only sad, Ferdinand is not here to listen,” she sighed. “I had no idea such a group existed. I will remember them when I wish to add something special to the occasion,” she said more to the musicians than to Melchior. He promised to pass along their information which Kolteruze promptly conferred to one of her attendants. They proceeded to play a quieter arrangement while the conversation began. She placed a sound blocker on the table.

“I won’t pretend I am not worried. Why has Sylvester confined you to the dormitory?” she began immediately. He did his best not to lose his smile. “I’m certain you haven’t spoken with Charlotte about it. So I fear you haven’t been communicating with anyone. You have always been so diligent and conscientious, if you are in trouble know that I will take your side.”

“Sister,” he muttered. There was no space in her question to deflect but he felt like he couldn’t just answer.

“You may rely upon me,” she said.

He folded immediately. “I… I broke your rules. I went into the forest. Father was so angry. I fear he was going to harm the orphans,” he whispered. It was impossible to face down her calm coaxing.

“My goodness. That is a serious offense. It seems that you now understand why I made those rules to begin with.” He nodded. He explained that Sigsnyr had been very thorough with his reprimand. “Then I will not lecture you. Only, why did you go? The orphans still bring you parues, do they not?”

“It is not about the fruits. I… it felt like it was the only thing to do at the time. I felt so distressed.” He fixed a smile to his face after glancing around the room. He needed to make this talk seem like it was pleasant. At this moment he noticed that the scholars were seated a bit behind them. It would be difficult for anyone to read their lips at this angle.

“What has worried you so?”

“I feel I cannot do what is expected of me especially since it means losing my friends. I have friends in the orphanage but its been decided I can no longer visit them. My head attendant encourages me to be more distant with my retainers and with all those below archnobles in status but that includes Pepin and Adaire and Gerianne. Isolde says I cannot make friends at the Royal Academy, only mutually beneficial agreements. And it is so cold in the temple yet I’m not allowed to worry about Kirk and Lothar and Sheila. I'm supposed to protect the people of Ehrenfest as an Archduke Candidate but I can't.” The words spilled out even as he attempted to hold back but he couldn't contain his tears and contain his words. He had to look as though they were having a normal sort of conversation.

Rozemyne looked very serious. She listened without interrupting then rose from her seat and instructed Liseleta to move her chair closer. She took his hand. Melchior saw Zargerecht stiffen out of the corner of his eye but the sound dampening caused by the magic tools prevented him from hearing whatever was muttered.

With a preformed calm she replied. “Melchior, it is normal to feel inadequate in the face of new challenges. You may rely on those around you for support but it's also important to learn how to live in a new environment. Being an Archduke Candidate puts you in charge of many people's lives. It is your duty to take care of them and develop yourself into a master worthy of their service.” She lightly stroked his hand as she spoke. Melchior felt that these were things he knew well. He’d anticipated her disappointment and her insistence that he be better. “It is a heavy burden,” she added. He looked at her. No one would say such a thing. It would be admitting weakness to imply it was anything short of luxury. “Do not carry it on your own or it will crush you.” He nodded. “If you are struggling with enforcing status be encouraged that many retainers take pride in serving. Behaving like a proper lord elevates their standing as well. If you accept poor treatment, people will mistreat them too.”

“I will work harder. I will be sure to consult with my retainers and ask for their help,” he said. He didn't want to allow harm to come to them through his own failings and he didn't want to disappoint his family.

“I am glad. That is good. Do not forget to still think things through and make your own decisions. Now, what is this about not being allowed to make friends?” He explained again Isolde and Lothar's reasoning. “That sounds quite harsh for Lothar. Even Ferdinand gave me the opportunity to say goodbye.”

“Were you forced to distance your friends from the orphanage too?” he asked, wide eyed.

“More or less. I was very distraught and still struggle with grief over those lost and strained relationships. It is ok to be hurt. Even if you must maintain proper distance, you can still observe from afar. I should not say this but you can use official visits and duties as cover to see them.” He looked at her with fresh eyes. She seemed so invincible yet she carried pain similar to his own. She was even telling him ways to maintain forbidden relationships. “It is also false that you cannot make friends with people of lower status or those at the Royal Academy. If that were true you could only be friends with Wilfried.” They both laughed. Wilfried was kind but he was too excited about knights and knight things to truly relate to. “School is for making both friends and mistakes. Do not skimp on either,” she patted his head and set down her sound blocker. She seemed to still be thinking about his last comments because she laughed again. “At least you would have Wilfried. Think of poor Hildebrand. There would be no one to be his friend,” she said.

Their retainers looked puzzled as they went on to discuss his royal highness and the library in general. Rozemyne told him about her preferred reading locations and her time in the Archduke's Archive. “It was such a blissful time at first. I’m not sure I shall ever forgive Sylvester for pulling me away each day.” She told him about how strange it felt to be escorted for seemingly no reason and how shocked Sylvester was that his brother and son were so ill mannered.

“Father did charge me to be kind to the girls and escort them everywhere. Is that not normal?”

“Aub Ehrenfest is just a friend to all women. It isn't bad to be kind though,” she spoke with a teasing and conspiratorial air as though she were watching many amusing moments crystalize in the threads of his fate. “It will give you a good reputation at least.” He felt cautious of this advice. Something about the look in her eyes told him this was different from the other counsel she’d given.

As their conversation wound down, he explained his gifts. She insisted on seeing the portrait immediately and oohed and aahed over it. She lamented that she’d only brought more cookies for him but he insisted she’d given him more than he could reasonably repay. “Oh but I enjoy dotting on you,” she replied and promised to send something anyway.

Their tea only ended because fourth bell rang. Zargerecht looked cross. It seemed Melchior had missed every signal to bring things to a close. “It seems Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time has woven today's threads with exceptional grace and speed indeed,” Rozemyne intoned. She gave him a final pat on the hand and stood to leave.

“Thank you for coming. And thank you for your advice. I do not know what I would have done,” he replied. “I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time has woven our threads tightly together.”

“As do I,” she said before exiting with her retinue. Almost as soon as she was gone, Flautzeal's quartet excused themselves and hurried away with their instruments.

“Please give your friends my apologies, Flautzeal. I didn't mean to keep them so late,” Melchior said as they made their way back to the dining room.

“Oh don't worry about them. This was the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I know Sister is incredible but is it so important?” Melchior asked. There wasn't much time left in the year to secure invitations to play.

Flautzeal nodded. “Aub Alexandria sets many trends. If she speaks about our quartet or even hires us, it will greatly improve our career prospects. That won't help me all that much since I am already serving you but the others will greatly benefit.”

His retainer's adult attendants all looked mildly annoyed and Sigsnyr immediately asked what had kept everyone. Melchior replied that he’d just been having such a good time. Sigsnyr muttered about having time to change and still beating them all there. The cookies were passed around to his retainers much to Wilfried's retainers' consternation. Having tasted these treats before they were well aware of what they were missing. Unfortunately, even if he gave some to Wilfried, there weren't enough left over for them. Melchior still snuck one over to Veremund along with Rozemyne's compliments on his parchment.

After lunch, Kolteruze and Pepin went to organize the clean up while Isolde led their debrief. “What can you share with us? Almost all of your conversation was under a sound-blocker,” she began.

“We talked about a lot of other things too,” Melchior insisted.

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously none of that was all too important. Rozemyne's favorite reading spots are just the objectively best reading spots. Aub Ehrenfest’s collection of scattered rafals is well known³.”

“I didn't know Father had so many suitors.”

“They would be women, so they are not suitors. However the list is both long and boring,” Zargerecht clarified.

“I can tell you about it another time. So, what can you tell us about your conversation?” she pressed. She'd been greatly vexed to find all the scholars placed such that they could not read lips. It was an impressive bit of foresight on Kolteruze’s part, she had to concede.

“There is little I would share. I will only say that I have resolved to make more connections here at the Royal Academy,” he replied. He didn't want to use the word friends to Isolde but he was supposed to be asking for help and relying on people. “I also intend to nurture my relationship with Prince Hildebrand,” he added. Rozemyne had mentioned him being lonely before and now revealed that he couldn't be friends with his siblings either. Since he was going to become his cousin anyway, it seemed perfectly reasonable to build a good relationship now.

Isolde looked terribly grieved but Melchior would not be swayed. He couldn't tell his retainers that he’d had a breakdown over distancing his orphan friends. They were nobles, not clergy. The thought of befriending commoners would be foreign to most of them. “If that is what you want, then I shall see it done,” she sighed and put away her notes.

“Now, Lord Melchior,” Zargerecht said. Melchior sat up a bit straighter. He felt a lecture coming. “It is very inappropriate to touch a member of the opposite sex at a tea party. You spent nearly the entire time holding hands with Aub Alexandria. People will talk.”

Melchior felt suddenly tired. It had been so comforting to hold his sister's hand. He wasn't sure he would have managed to remain calm without it. “I understand. I will maintain better propriety next time,” he said. He could not explain to Zargerecht why it should be allowed for siblings to touch hands. Rozemyne wasn't his blood relative. By noble standards they weren't actually related since she was baptized by different people then adopted under a different “wife”. She was legally Sylvester’s child but not Melchior’s sister. No matter how deep their bond, Zargerecht was actually right. It was technically improper.

Zargerecht was surprised by the quick accent. He expected at least a little argument. “That is good. See that you do,” was all he could say. He was going to explain that Rozemyne wasn't really his sister and, as the Aub, could very well be courting him in the eyes of strangers. She was already engaged to her uncle. Marrying her adoptive half-brother would surprise no one.

Their meeting concluded with little information passed. Zargerecht wanted to press for more disclosure considering his lords recent out of character activities. It would not be proper, however. He would just have to settle for watching over him.

That evening, Sigsnyr came to borrow the leather bag. He was doing his final preparations. Melchior asked far too many questions and offered to have food prepared for him to take, one of his scarves to wear, paper to draw the gate artwork, one of Rozemyne special potions, and any number of other useless things. Sigsnyr only accepted the paper since it was expensive and he was planning to do a drawing anyway. Flautzeal had asked him ages ago to prepare a gift for Melchior. He’d simply been too busy to create any art. Even the gold dust paint was still sitting around, barely touched.

The leather bag was going to be a great help. The random assortment of satchels and pouches he normally used were set aside in favor of filling the large bag. It ended up being heavier than he anticipated so he moved some things back to pouches. It was still much more comfortable than the cross body slings he was used to. He took inventory of the camping equipment. It would strap onto his highbeast easily. He was annoyed that he hadn't managed to create a smaller and lighter alternative to the normal tents. He would also have to sleep in his armor if he didn't want to freeze to death.

The thought of the cold always reminded him of his trip to Geduldh’s gate. It had been so cold he’d almost run out of mana keeping his armor formed. The cold was like fingers reaching in between the plates, stealing every drop of warmth they found. It had made more sense to fly through the night and sleep closer to the central building than to stay out near that gate. The stories of Ewigeliebe sealing her away had never felt so true.

Sigsnyr would be leaving after morning classes so Melchior took that time to lounge about outside his room. He bundled up and visited Veremund. The medscholar was actually making progress on researching the properties of the liquid. He’d begun omitting various ingredients or sets of ingredients and examining the results. So far he hadn't figured out how to keep the hair but he had discovered the bleaching agent. They now had parchment in various natural tones.

Veremund assembled with everyone else to see Sigsnyr off before lunch. Melchior did some more fretting and forced a bit of bread and cheese into his hands which Pepin secured from the kitchens. “You are skipping lunch,” Melchior chided.

“I must make it before nightfall to make camp,” he explained. Zipporah also had more specific reminders about where to camp and how to take care of himself.

“You should not be going alone,” she whispered as she readjusted the straps holding his gear to his highbeast.

“Do you want to come with?” he asked and gestured to the back of his mount.

“Always making jokes,” she tutted.

“I never make jokes,” he argued but she was already walking away.

They all waved as he set off and the younger students cried out in surprise when he shot off at an astounding speed.

Veremund hid his surprise better but still said, “I didn't know highbeasts could travel that fast.”

“It takes a lot of mana,” Zipporah explained. Sustaining such speed also took an amazing amount of throughput. “We most often practice controlling as fine a stream as possible. If you want to fly fast you must practice the opposite; forcing out as much mana as you can at once.”

“Is that hard?” Melchior asked. He was struggling to reduce his flow all the time.

“Not at first but after bells and bells it is amazingly draining.”

Zargerecht frowned throughout her entire explanation. It was normally taboo for adult retainers to send reports but he felt he might have too. At least, he would not forget to inform the Aub and Sigsnyr’s parents upon his return to Ehrenfest.

Footnotes

1. Kept as though compelled by magic^{^}

2. Pacing around nervously. A general expression for anxiety.^{^}

3. “Trail of broken hearts” or “collection of snubbed admirers” ^{^}

Chapter Text

Preparing for Socializing Season

As promised, Melchior dutifully returned to his room after lunch. He practiced music with Flautzeal then began work on a new painting. The beauty of the parue trees was still fresh in his mind. Even if the ensuing hours had been harrowing, gathering the pale fruits from their icicle trees had still been one of the greatest moments of his life. Since he knew it would never happen again, he would preserve the memory. Of course snow had a similar affliction to Gerianne and Isolde. It was too pale to represent on white paper.

Melchior asked his art instructor for advice. “I wish to depict snow, but the paper is white,” he said.

“Do you always begin on white surfaces? White paper or white gesso?” Flautzeal asked from his chair where he was quietly continuing to practice by himself. Melchior said that he did. “You don’t have too. If you were just going to underpaint most of the piece using one color you might as well begin with a surface that color too.” This was a revelation for Melchior. It would be far easier to change the color of his page than to convince Isolde to dye her hair.

After doing some sketches, selecting a board, and painting over it in a murky color. Melchior set it aside to dry and turned to the reports. Raphaela had sadly already returned to Klassenberg for the year. She would not return until the Interduchy Tournament. Melchior thought it strange that an archnoble wasn't going to do any socializing. Leibshitze had agreed on a day and Melchior’s guard knights had accepted it so Melchior prepared a fancy invitation. It was unfortunate that Raphaela wouldn't be able to join them but it meant they could have a boys specific tea party. Melchior included a polite Gewinnen challenge and added a painting of one of his lancer pieces modeled to look a bit like Fonsel.

He also wrote a letter to Hildebrand, informing him of Melchior's return and renewing his offer to assist in the Archduke's Archive. Zargerecht said it was improper to invite royalty to tea parties or events so he didn’t invite him to the Gewinnen. “You must wait for him to invite you as you are of inferior status,” he counseled.

Melchior passed his invitations to Isolde for delivery and lamented that Raphaela wouldn't be able to come even if she wanted to. Isolde suggested writing her a letter. She advised adding in some notes about general happenings and an insinuation that she might have considered assisting the prince with his work considering her knowledge and interest in history. “I don't think she even knows about the archive let alone agreed to help too,” Melchior said in confusion.

“Yes but you would have brought it up sooner or later. This way she will have all year to practice if she does want to help,” Isolde explained. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl. Raphaela really did seem nice and everything bad Isolde heard about her was connected to or the direct result of the meddling of adults in her life. What's more, Raphaela was very smart. Isolde had managed to learn more from people outside of Klassenberg.

She’d gone to the library herself to look for embroidery patterns and when she didn't find many she explained the borders of illuminated texts and other festoonments from objects of the period. Aloysia had even taken her to view the dishes in the Librarians’ dining room. It was diligent scholarship from a girl who claimed her only ambition was to serve as an Archductal retainer for a few years before retiring to rear children in a hole in Klassenberg. If that was truly her wish, Isolde would have to respect it. But she suspected Raphaela would be more useful if they could wrest her away from her current attendant.

Melchior made for an excellent accomplice to her plan. He asked for some clarification but never pressed for the whole story. When she said he should include a subtle line about how Zipporah had been insulted, he did. He even convinced Zargerecht to let it stay without Isolde needing to say anything. His handwriting was neat and his use of euphemism was tasteful, meaning she didn't have to do much in the way of editing in the end. She delivered their missives to Dunkelfelger and Klassenberg proudly.

She was a bit more worried about passing a letter to Prince Hildebrand. Should she appear before the door to his villa and pass the letter to the guard? Was it more appropriate to seek out Professor Magdelena? Should she send Flautzeal so it didn't look like a love note? When she asked Philine how Rozemyne communicated with royalty, she’d said they just used magic letters. Rozemyne had initially promised the princes she would never contact them first and then always met them ‘by chance’ in the library. This seemed like an excellent plan to Isolde so she waited until the next day then left the note with Professor Solange.

“We are not couriers, Lady Isolde. I will pass on your message this time as it pertains to work in the library but you must find other avenues in the future,” Solange said. She gave the note to Weiss who placed it in its pocket. “I will deliver,” it promised. Isolde decided to pass all missives through the shumils from then on or else to splurge on magic letters.

Isolde had one more important task to complete. She felt it was time to acquire her schtappe.

“There is still a bit more time left in the year. Are you certain?” Zipporah asked. She was looking much less stressed since Sigsnyr had returned that afternoon. He was missing the evening meeting because he was too exhausted to be seen.

Isolde was looking very stressed. “I do not want to risk failing the final exams. Nor do I want to be in classes during socializing season. It is time,” she announced.

“If you feel sure, Isolde. Then we support you,” Melchior said. “Do you have any ideas for your schtappe?” He was bouncing with excitement. Designing all the schtappes of his retainers was a particular point of pride. He would still occasionally attempt to convince Zargerecht to change to something more elaborate but the old retainer maintained that he couldn't alter the design after using it for decades.

“You should try to work on compressing as much mana as possible between now and then. Enough to make yourself sick,” Kolteruze added.

“You cannot be saying she should endanger her life?” Zipporah countered.

Kolteruze scratched his head. “You only get one Divine Will,” he murmured. Everyone regarded Isolde. It was true that she wanted the best possible schtappe and hoped to gain an element but compressing so much as to endanger your life? No one wanted to encourage such behavior even if it was objectively good advice.

“I will do it,” she declared.

“Then you will move into my room so there are more people monitoring you,” Zipporah said. Isolde tried to argue but the older girl was firm. “We cannot stop you from risking yourself but we can mitigate the danger. It is only until you retrieve your Divine Will. It is unsightly to complain as you are.”

Everyone took Zipporah’s side in this argument so Isolde was forced to relent. “Very well. I shall be in your care,” she conceded. She did not allow this to quell her determination.

Melchior considered whether he should also focus on getting as much mana as possible before acquiring his Divine Will then attempt to grow his body after. He wasn't sure if that would work and also didn't know who to ask. Rozemyne had written Better Compression and You so she seemed like a good person to start with.

After their meeting and a little painting. Melchior was prepared for bed. On this night, Pepin would be attending as the night watch for the first time. His male retainers were working in rotation. Kolteruze had accidentally woken him up at a very late hour by knocking over a paper weight. This was also how he learned that Nikolaus was still waking up terribly early. They'd sat together to watch the snow in the morning.

Pepin’s bed clothes were noticeably less fancy than Nikolaus's. In the dark and empty room, Melchior noticed how quiet his steps were as he seemed to float around as he extinguished the lights. He was very similar to Kirk in that way. It made Melchior think about how he'd left his temple attendants so abruptly and in emotional distress. He vowed to write them a letter in the morning.

Melchior climbed into his bed and was surprised when Pepin came over with a chair. He pulled back the curtains and looked Melchior directly in the eyes. “There is something we must discuss,” he said. Melchior sat up and readied himself. Pepin looked so serious, like he had during their first evening meeting after Melchior’s return. “Why must you be watched? How were you injured?”

“What do you mean, Pepin? It is common for me to have someone sleeping in my room. It is normally a servant but it can be an attendant or guard as well.” Melchior tried to reassure him.

Pepin continued to look worried. “It is unusual here at the Royal Academy. How did you get that bruise? It is strange that you were not healed immediately.”

“There was no one who could heal me at the time. You need not worry about it.”

“Why did you want us to hide it from Zargerecht and the Archduke?”

“Father said he would hurt the orphans and distance my guards had any harm come to me. I cannot let that happen. I must protect them this time,” Melchior said. He felt panic rise in his chest. Pepin didn't seem satisfied no matter what he said. In fact he seemed more and more agitated. He’d avoided looking at Pepin during the initial explanation for this very reason. He couldn't bear to see him look so much like he had after the Winter Purge.

“When you say this time, do you mean that you failed to protect them at some previous time?” Pepin pressed. Melchior just nodded. He didn't want to detail the awful events again. “This seems to plague you with guilt.” Melchior didn't respond. He just looked down at his hands. There really wasn't anything he could say about it. “Did you hurt yourself?” Pepin asked after a long while.

“I was hit by a flying seed.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Melchior shook his head. Pepin let out a deep breath. “I was worried you had attempted to injure yourself or even went in search of the towering stairway⁴.”

Melchior took Pepin’s hands as tears began to fall from the apprentice’s eyes. “No, Pepin. I wouldn't do that. I was very upset but I was not…”

Pepin squeezed his hands even as he breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought the very worst had happened,” he muttered. “I was not even there to comfort you.”

“It would not have been your fault,” Melchior assured him.

“It is my job to ensure your physical and mental well being,” Pepin replied. Melchior hadn't forgotten that Pepin's future relied on his continued employment in Melchior's retinue. His family hadn't committed any crimes but they were still embroiled in the defunct Veronica Faction's poor reputation. If his lord did seek out the towering stairway while under his care, Pepin would never find work again and likely would never get married. His anxiety was perfectly logical. “And, you are my friend. I don't know what I would do if I lost you,” he cried.

Melchior looked at Pepin as his shoulders shook and tears fell on their joined hands. He’d always considered Pepin his friend but he felt he couldn't be sure whether the mednoble was simply humoring him because of status. It made him feel warm knowing that Pepin truly cared about him even as his heart broke to see him so sad. “I am sorry I worried you. I won't do anything like that again. You have my word.”

“Will you tell me when something is bothering you. I can help you. I can try to help you.”

Melchior promised he would. He didn't begin elaborating on his current woes. They needed to go to sleep and Pepin already seemed emotionally drained. “You promise?” he asked. Melchior promised again. “Then tell me what is weighing on you now.” Pepin gripped his hands. He looked into his eyes and Melchior felt he could not escape.

As he’d backed himself into this corner he couldn't be angry. Nor could he keep silent forever. “I want to be demoted to archnoble or join the temple. I don't think I can be an Archduke Candidate. Sister gave me very good advice at our tea but I still worry I won't be a good master and will let everyone down.”

“You are still quite young, you have time to learn and develop. You do not have to be a perfect leader right now,” Pepin encouraged.

“Our problems will not wait for me to grow up. I have read about all the problems we need to solve in Mother and Father’s offices. And what if our foundation is attacked again. I cannot allow another to reach it or to kill our clergy.”

“Attack our foundation!? Who would do that?” Pepin cried.

“You didn't know?” Melchior felt deeply confused. “Our city was attacked. We evacuated the Noble's Quarter and called troops from all over. How could you not know?”

Pepin took several moments to process this information. “We were told that nobles from Old Werkstock came to steal our mana. They attacked our temple to steal the chalices.” It only kind of made sense, Melchior thought. Though it begged the question of why Ehrenfest over Frenbeltag which was much closer.

“That did also happen but it was a part of a larger plot by Lady Georgina to steal our Foundation.”

“That explains why the purge happened. If the Archduke was trying to root out his sister's lingering supporters because he was afraid of such an attack, it all makes more sense,” Pepin said with a sigh. Such an aggressive response to mostly financial crimes had always felt wrong somehow.

“I’m sorry, Pepin. We put you through so much and didn't even properly explain,” Melchior said. How many people were still hurt and confused by their violent actions, Melchior wondered. Was it too late to inform everyone?

“Isn't the foundation in the castle? Why attack the temple?” Pepin mused.

“She needed something from the temple to break in. I don't know what, only that I failed to prevent her from getting it. She also killed a priest and some servants. It was my duty to evacuate the temple and oversee our defenses and I failed.”

“You were a child, barely even baptized. It's more accurate to say that it was your retainers duty,” Pepin began. He stopped when he noticed Melchior’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he prepared himself to give a formulaic answer. No doubt, many people had explained this just like he was about to. He pivoted and said something closer to what he truly felt. Having heard many people rationalize away deadly mistakes, he had rather strong feelings on the subject. “It is difficult to know you could have done better. Do not dwell on that you failed but remember why you failed. Only then can you ensure you do not repeat your mistakes. Your grief will serve to remind you how valuable the lives lost are.”

It had been true for a long time that Melchior relied on Pepin to notice and understand people's feelings. It was not uncommon for Pepin to point out nuances even Zargerecht missed. Melchior still did not expect Pepin to put words to the feelings buried so deep in his heart. Everyone told him it wasn't his fault and he should try to forget and just do better next time. Perhaps because Pepin was still young himself, he could remember that children could be fairly capable and thus held accountable.

Melchior still felt sad that it had to be Pepin having this conversation. It was amazing that even after the grave mistake of implicating his family in crimes they hadn't committed, Pepin could still empathize and console a member of Ehrenfest's Archductal family. “It is as you say, I will not forget.” Melchior stared into his eyes, “I will make amends. Please give me time.” Melchior wasn't sure how he could make it up to Pepin and his family but he would learn how.

“It is enough that you keep me in your service.” Pepin assured him. “My children will not have to bear the same burdens.”

They sat for a while longer in silence. Melchior was tired but he also felt relieved. He hadn't had a chance to apologize before. An Archduke Candidate could not admit guilt when the official position was that the purge was both justified and successful. There was also no good way to bring it up in the very rare moments he was alone with Pepin. Eventually he nodded off filled with warmth.

When he woke up at his usual time, needing to banish chaos as he generally did, he found that Pepin was still in the chair next to his bed and still holding his hand. It was rather cold even with a thick housecoat and slippers. Pepin would surely be sick when he woke up. Melchior took care of his business then guided his groggy attendant to the sleeping bench and covered him as best he could in the blankets.

At breakfast, Isolde looked as though she hadn't slept at all while Sigsnyr was bursting with energy. He filled their table with talk about his flight and the faebeast he had to challenge for his camping spot. It hadn't been as cold as he’d anticipated. He also thanked Melchior for the cheese and bread. He didn't normally skip lunch before his excursions and nearly fell out of the saddle. All his other food required water to eat since rations generally needed to be reconstituted. “I would not have made it had I needed to boil water midway through the journey.” It was apparently much harder to travel to Schutzaria's gate than the others since the winds always blew away from it, pushing you back toward the Central Building. This meant that his return flight took considerably less time. He used this leeway to do a drawing of the gate and promised to bring it to the evening meeting.

“Sigsnyr,” Wilfried called from the end of the table.

“Yes Lord Wilfried?”

“Are you saying that you missed two days of training to do some highbeast flying?” Wilfried asked. Sigsnyr looked at Melchior who shrugged and Isolde who was in no state to manage the information as she normally would. Without any objections, Sigsnyr recounted his tale again quickly. “These gates you speak of are in a wall which surrounds the Royal Academy?”

“Yes it is very similar to the wall which encircles Yurgenschmidt.”

Wilfried went through a series of microexpressions, barely able to contain his curiosity and jealousy. “You slept outside all night?” he asked. Sigsnyr nodded. Wilfried withheld the urge to press for every minute detail. “I would like to see the drawing as well,” he said.

Sigsnyr promised to show him at some point then rushed off to change for class.

“You gave him permission to do this?” Wilfried asked Melchior. He didn't miss the look of annoyance on Zargerecht's face.

“It has been his goal to visit all six. How could I say no,” Melchior replied. “His adventures have given him incredible knowledge of the Royal Academy grounds which has already proved useful for our research.”

“You are already doing research?” Wilfried sighed. “Are you inventing some new magic tool for sorting paint or some such?”

Melchior tipped his head. That was an oddly specific question. “No. We are tanning faebeast hides.”

“Oh. That's what all that is in the training room. Will you be finished before the end of term or are we just down a training room forever now?”

“I fear we will not finish. There are so many,” Melchior admitted.

Wilfried laughed. “At least you’ll collect plenty of data.”

Melchior had new mail to read after breakfast. Hildebrand and Leibshitze had both replied quickly. The prince sent a list of the days he was planning to work in the archive which Isolde noted was a terrible thing to give to a stranger. “If you wanted to plan his demise he’s told you when and where to find him weeks in advance.” Melchior noted that you could easily predict Prince Hildebrand would be in the library even without his schedule. Leibshitze sent another poorly formatted, informal reply saying that nothing would prevent him from attending and he would bring a Gewinnen board so they could have a little tournament.

Since Melchior’s confinement was lifted and his guards weren't otherwise engaged, he decided to spend his day at the Library. Isolde insisted on going even if she seemed a bit ill. She prepared an embroidery project and some paper for taking notes. Flautzeal would stay behind since he couldn't enter the lower chamber anyway but Theodore would wait at the top of the stairs.

The Archduke’s Archive

Melchior brought one of his notebooks and some plant paper. If the prince wanted to keep the transcriptions he was likely to provide paper but Melchior didn't want to seem unprepared. He double checked that his pen was in its pouch and bounced out of the dormitory with his diptych clacking. Kolteruze promised to come by later with tea and snacks and so secured permission to remain in the dorms.

The halls were full of students in their many colored capes. They formed little groups or walked with purpose from one place to another. Melchior watched friends greet each other and saw other Archduke Candidates rush around with their large retinues. Everything felt exciting and new all over again. A few of the younger students acknowledged him as he passed. He couldn't really remember most people, having spent so little time in class, but he tried to offer a welcoming smile as though he was happy to see them. This encouraged several students to walk over and talk to him. He traded pleasantries then quickly excused himself on account of a meeting planned in the library. It never failed to surprise people that an Archduke Candidate was personally going to visit since it was a new thing for the sixth years to be visiting the archive.

After taking a long time to walk a short way, he arrived. Schwartz and Weiss were conspicuously absent. Melchior reminded himself that they always went down to the Archduke's Archive when it was open. It seemed safe to assume Hildebrand really was there. Melchior greeted Professor Aloysia who was at the desk and made a donation to the orb.

“Greeting Lord Melchior. What brings you to the library today? Are you researching more animals?”

“No. I’ve finished with that project. It will be some time before I am ready to look at another illustration of an animal,” he replied.

Aloysia chuckled behind her hand. “It sounds like it was quite taxing. Is there anything else I can help you find?”

“I am here to assist his royal highness. How should I send a message? I worry his guard knights would be disturbed by the sudden appearance of a stranger.”

“You need not worry. You are registered as a member of library staff according to Schwartz and Weiss. They will announce it every time you enter the library. He will already know you are here so you should run along before he grows too anxious,” she said with a teasing smile.

Melchior chose to ignore her tone and simply thanked her for her assistance. She led his retinue through the closed-stack archive then excused herself. Zipporah led their group down the stairs and into the antechamber. Pepin and Theodore waited next to the Sovereignty guard also waiting at the top of the stairs. It didn't seem that anyone else was here to complete their assignments.

The room was just as he remembered. He looked around at the empty walls and thought it was sad they weren't decorated according to the royal’s taste. He was excited to see all the different tea party rooms and compare their decor with what he knew of each duchy. Maybe no one wanted to make archattedants hang drapes and move heavy vases down the stairs.

Hildebrand guards were concentrated in front of the barrier and near the door. They didn't look surprised at all to see him. Hildebrand was waiting just on the other side of the transparent wall. He stepped through with a massive smile. “Welcome, Lord Melchior.”

“I offer greetings on this morning held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth,” Melchior intoned with a bow.

“I accept your greetings. Thank you for coming to assist. Shall we go inside?” Melchior made to follow but was stopped by Zargerecht.

“We cannot follow you so be sure to remain in view at all times. Watch for our signals as well. Lord Wilfried tells me that neither the bells nor warning lights are detectable from inside,” he warned.

“I will remain where you can see me.” Melchior promised.

“You may ask Weiss to pass on messages.” Hildebrand added before passing through.

Melchior stepped forward himself. He was a little nervous as he heard it was possible to be denied entry. He reached out to where he thought the wall would be and felt nothing. The only way he knew he’d entered was because the sounds of the retainers suddenly died. Schwartz waited quietly on the other side but said nothing.

“Have I prayed enough, then?” Melchior asked.

“Not enough prayer,” Schwartz responded.

“When Rozemyne and Lord Ferdinand altered the Archives magic circles they changed the shumils so that they only give an assessment if you ask,” Hildebrand explained.

Melchior patted the shumil and added mana to the buttons on its vest. Schwartz closed its eyes and looked like it enjoyed being stroked. It was very difficult to remember that the library shumils were magic tools instead of living beings when their reactions were so life-like. Melchior looked around at the rest of the room. There were ornate pillars, just like the ones in the library, and rows of shelves built into the walls and lined with ivory tablets. Light seemed to stream in from a frosted skylight. It was a bit confusing since they were underground. Melchior wondered what exactly was providing the light.

“Is there anything in particular you want to research,” Hildebrand asked. He stood next to a stand with a tablet and a half filled sheet of paper secured with string attached to two sticks.

“I’ve come to offer my assistance as promised,” Melchior replied.

Hildebrand somehow grew even more delighted. “Yes, that's right. Thank you again. Let's see. Schwartz, will you bring Melchior the next slate?” he called while busily setting up the stand next to his own. The prince had indeed brought paper and ink for Melchior to use. He removed a quill from a box containing several feathers and summoned a knife to begin carving it. “Messer. I wasn't the biggest fan of quills at first but Mother said they were the refined choice. Now I understand why so many people insist on them despite alternatives. If you need it cut differently just ask,” he chatted.

Melchior accepted his tablet from the shumil and sat at his stand. It faced out toward the waiting area. He watched Isolde chat with Hildebrand's retainer and Zargerecht receive and send an ordonnanz before something struck him as strange. “You have a schtappe already,” he noted.

Hildebrand froze. “Oh, yes. Its a very long story.” He glanced around sheepishly. Having been so delighted to finally have assistance once again, he’d been careless. “Please do not mention it to anyone else. Father worked so hard to convince the duchies to delay schtappe acquisition.”

Melchior nodded. He thought it odd the former Zent would convince everyone else then allow his own son to collect his Divine Will early. Didn't he want his possible successor to obtain the best schtappe possible? If Hildebrand hadn't been born omnielemental, he would have lost his chance to obtain the Book of Mestinora for life.

In any case, it wasn't his place to pry. He turned his attention to the tablet. It was similar in size to a large sheet of paper and neatly etched with text. As Melchior ran his fingers over the letters, he marveled at how someone could have carved down the entire background and left the letters proud instead of recessed. After touching the swirly accents he moved to begin transcribing. When he did he caught Hildebrand watching out of the corner of his eyes. Having agreed to assist with the countless texts in this archive, Melchior predicted sitting next to Prince Hilderbrand for many hours. His heart would surely give out if they locked eyes every time he looked up.

“Your Highness. Though it is beyond me to make requests of royalty I simply cannot bear it any more.”

Hilderbrand blinked rapidly before his eyes refocused properly. “Oh, yes. What is it?” he asked. He’d been completely lost to his thoughts.

“Please, if you would… stop looking at me,” Melchior vetured cautiously. The prince was confused but looked away as requested. Melchior sighed. “I do not mean right now. I mean in general.”

“I see. Of course. I didn’t realize I was doing it.”

“Thank you,” Melchior said and began transcribing. Hildebrand glanced over as the sound of pen on paper began. He’d spent too long learning how to write the ancient text and could only just now read it slowly. Melchoir seemed nearly as proficient as Rozemyne had been. Of course, Hildebrand didn’t know if Melchior could read what he was writing but it seemed likely. He wondered if he should ask him to do direct translations instead? Would it be better to simply leave that to the royal scholars? Not having copies of the originals was part of the problem the royal family found themselves in in the first place so perhaps it was best to have simple transcriptions.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, his eyes wandered away from Melchior’s neat handwriting to his face. He looked calm but focused. This wasn’t difficult work it seemed though it was unclear whether he actually enjoyed it or not. I was most unlike Rozemyne who always had a look like she’d been transported to a paradise while working on these tablets. The longer Melchior wrote though. The more his countenance took on an amused look. Hildebrand got the feeling he could absolutely understand the slate. The one’s he’d recently been reading were about small scale rituals with mundane kinds of effects. He’d recently seen one that just called animals. That seemed fairly useless for a Zent or Aub.

At about halfway through, Melchior rested his quill and turned to look Hildebrand directly in the eyes. The prince jumped at the sudden attention. He still never expected the reader to stop midway through a text unless dragged away. “I am not Rozemyne,” Melchior said.

“Yes, I know,” Hildebrand replied. It was strange to say something so obvious out of nowhere.

“I think you may be mistaking us. Perhaps it is the color of my hair?” Melchior continued.

Hildebrand remained confused. He looked at Melchior’s hair. It was dark blue but lacked the true depth of color in Rozemyne’s locks. It wouldn’t be impossible to confuse them but Hildebrand never would. “Please explain what you mean,” he said after a long while of failing to understand.

“My scholar suspects that you hold a rafel⁵ for my elder sister and developed a habit for watching her read. I am not Aub Alexandria and you therefore will gain nothing from watching me read,” Melchior declared. He’d been enjoying the tablet and wanted to come back and continue helping but it wouldn’t increase the speed of transcription if Hildebrand was distracted the entire time. “If you find me too distracting I can sit somewhere you cannot see me,” he offered.

Hilderbrand turned a dark shade of red from his ears to his forehead and everything in between. He knew he was terrible at hiding his feelings and it hadn’t mattered since Rozemyne was even worse at discerning them. No one would have the boldness to mention it either. He stuttered briefly and pressed his hands to his cheeks. “No, that is alright. I will be more diligent. I apologize.”

“If you are sure. Our progress will not be any faster if you are distracted,” Melchior said.

“I am sure,” Hildebrand replied. He picked up his quill and returned his attention to his slate. It was terribly difficult to focus through his embarrassment. He thought about all the arguments and conversations he’d watched from the waiting area. He looked out. Melchior’s scholar was watching with a look not unlike a certain Aub reading. He sank a bit lower to try to hide his face and tried to work.

Now that he was conscious of his habit, he noticed just how often his attention was pulled. Melchior didn’t look very much like Rozemyne on a second inspection but out of the corner of his eye, the ochre cape and dark blue hair were enough to fool him. His heart even lept just a little. Each time he felt his cheeks warm and chastised himself for failing to work. He’d barely completed one tablet to Melchior’s three. This was even with Melchior having to stand up and walk a lap around the archive every so often. The boy would work calmly for a long while then, as if possessed by Stiefbrise, he would fidget and stand up and pace for a few minutes. This would often spur Hildebrand to get back to work and curse himself for being distracted once again.

“Tea is ready,” Schwatz said, startling both boys. They looked up to see Kolteruze waiting calmly by one of the tables already set with a tea service and snacks.

“Would you care for tea, your highness?” Melchior asked. Hildebrand’s attendants hadn’t prepared any themselves.

“Yes. Thank you,” he said and held out a hand to accept Melchior’s quill. He wiped it with a handkerchief rather than using Waschen before resting the feather next to his own. Melchior placed the stopper in his bottle of ink and blotted the page he’d been working on. Once everything was in order they exited together.

Kolteruze brought enough tea for all of Melchior’s retainers. He served them at a separate table while Zargertecht served Melchior. Once it became clear that Hildebrand was joining them, his own attendant came over to help. Rather than sweets, there were bread slices with whipped cheese and toasted nuts dusted with salt. Melchior thought it was odd but found the treats perfectly enjoyable. Hildebrand, by contrast, seemed positively delighted. Once Melchior had done his requisite poison tasting, the prince quickly devoured a slice of bread.

“The sweets in the Sovereignty are very sugary and we never serve savory foods,” he said as he happily munched. “This is a wonderful change,” he complimented.

Melchior shared a smile with Kolteruze before turning back. He was going to begin a conversation then realized he didn’t know much about Hilderbrand’s hobbies other than reading. Since they were in the library, it didn’t seem like a bad topic. “Have you had time to read any of the Blue Priest stories? I’m curious what a noble unaffiliated with the temple must think.”

“I’ve read them all. It sounds like rather tedious work. Were you truly forced to travel in such conditions?” Hildebrand replied. His purple eyes were full of curiosity but not condemnation so Melchior felt it was safe to talk about it.

“Yes, it is quite taxing though I don’t have nearly so much area to cover. I cannot imagine doing all of it as Sister and Letizia have,” he said.

“Are you able to give true blessings as well?”

“Yes, though I believe any one with a ring should be capable of doing so. It is even possible to use faestones for support if one lacks the mana by oneself,” Melchior explained. He drank his tea and glanced around at Hildebrands retainers. They looked at the snacks with hungry eyes. Melchior glanced at Zargerecht who came over immediately, “Do we have enough to share?” he whispered as quietly as possible.

They both looked at Kolteruze who also came over. He assured them that he brought enough to feed even the librarians besides. It was upstairs since hauling things back and forth was tiring. “You would have to wait for his highness to ask, however.” Zargerecht warned.

Either they were whispering at an impossibly low volume or Prince Hilderbrand was distracted by something else. He made no reaction to the insinuation that he could ask for snacks for his hungry retainers.

“Please let me know if you would like more of anything. My attendant brought more than enough to share,” Melchior said in a very unsubtle way. He also glanced toward Hildebrand’s knights with such an exaggerated motion that his diptych clacked.

Melchiro thought that if he were a royal and knew he had to ask for gifts even if people wished to offer then, he would have understood this to be an invitation to make a request. He also wouldn’t have hesitated to secure snacks for his retinue. Hildebrand followed his eyes and turned over his words and seemed to settle on ignoring the implications. Melchior glanced at Kolteruze who looked at the archive. He wasn’t sure what that meant but he wasn’t going to force the issue anymore.

“Are you reading anything else?” Melchior asked. Hildebrand’s eyes lit up and he began to recount a love story he’d read recently. Solange had been kind enough to lend him her copy. It was about two knight students who expressed their affection through repeated duel challenges.

“I wonder what it is like to face your love in glorious combat. Do you think they wished to prove who was stronger or just both enjoyed dueling?” he asked at the end.

“It is hard to say without asking them. Sharing a passion with your beloved seems wonderful,” Melchior replied. He hadn’t considered what his future partner would be like though he was fairly certain she would know how to embroider. “It seems unfair though. The girl would have to embroider her opponent's cape and repair any damage she caused, though that means she could provide inferior magic circles to gain an advantage,” he added.

“Why would she want to fight an inferior opponent?” Hilderbrand asked. “Surely you would want your partner to be as challenging as possible for the best duel.” Melchior was baffled. Surely you would want to win more than have a ‘good duel’. “Of course you want to win but winning is always better the harder it is to achieve.”

“Surely it is better to use fewer resources,” Melchior pointed out.

A fire filled Hildebrand’s purple eyes. “Only through great struggle do we prove our true worth. That is what Mother and Uncle always say.”

“Your mother is Professor Magdelena, correct,” Melchior asked. Hildebrand nodded enthusiastically. If Melchior’s history studies were correct, then her brother was Aub Dunkelfelger. “Ah, you are of Dunkelfelger,” Melchior said. Lady Hannalore and Lord Heisshitze seemed to have similar opinions after the battle in Ahrensbach. He’d complained about the weakness of the Lanzenavians.

“Indeed!” Hildebrand replied. After a moment it registered that it hadn’t been a question. “What do you mean to imply?” he asked with squinty eyes.

Melchior waved his hands before him, “Nothing, your highness. Only that we will not agree on the nature of challenge.”

“Do you not believe an opponent is more worthwhile the stronger they are?” Hildebrand asked. He found himself genuinely curious. He didn’t talk to many people outside of his own family and Letizia had never expressed such an opinion.

Melchior considered the question for a moment. He hadn’t faced any trivial opponents yet in his life. Powerful people were just scary as far as he was concerned. “I would rather not have to fight at all,” he replied.

“I suppose that is best, but if you must fight it is good to be able to face great foes,” Hildebrand said. “That's why you train.”

As they finished their tea, Melchior considered that he hadn’t trained very much at all. He could only perform the first set of sword forms and was still less fit than the temple orphans. These thoughts occupied him until he sat down and looked for his quill. Hildebrand also sat at his stand. This time he took out a small knife to trim the quills. Melchior had noticed it getting less pointed over time but hadn’t considered it could be sharpened. He felt silly for enduring for so long when the solution was so obvious. “ I should learn how to do that,” Melchior said as he accepted his newly sharpened quill. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Please feel free to ask any time.” Hildebrand returned to his work more diligently. He still had to stop himself from getting so distracted every time Melchior caught his eye but he made better progress this time.

Footnotes

4. Attempted to end his own life ^{^}

5. "Have a crush on” or “are in love with” ^{^}

Chapter Text

Causing a Stir

Soon it was nearly fourth bell. Melchior handed over his half finished transcription as well as the provided ink and spare paper. Hildebrand placed the supplies in an ornate box and the transcriptions in a paper folder printed with the crest of Yurgenschmidt. He took this folder with them but left the box where it was. “Thank you for your help. I think we made very good progress. You seem quite familiar with old text.” Hilderbrand said as they exited.

“I spent a lot of time studying translations and transcriptions in the temple bookroom,” Melchior said. Hildebrand smiled a nostalgic smile at his words. Melchior got the feeling the prince was seeing someone else again.

The archlibrarians came down to assist with closing the archive. This time the doors didn’t spin. As all three approached, the keyholes appeared in thin air and glowed red. Mana snaked out, much like it had during the opening, until the magic circles were fully outlined. Then, the metallic surface flashed into existence and the keys dropped into their keeper’s hands. Hildebrand placed his onto a chain around his neck then hid it under his clothes while Kreimhilde handed her’s to Aloysia who took both upstairs. There were several more bowls of snacks on the tray this time. It seemed that Kolteruze and Zargerecht had made offers while the boys were in the archive. Kolteruze and Zargerecht each carried trays up the stairs while Melchior and Hildebrand walked together with the shumils. The stairs were rather narrow and Hildebrand’s guards looked annoyed to share space with Melchior’s apprentices but neither wanted to leave their lord totally outside of their reach. So they formed two lines of ochre and black capes before and behind their charges.

Once up the stairs, Pepin appeared with a serving cart. On it were the tea service as well as a greenstone pitcher and bluestone kettle. There was also a large jar which Melchior assumed once contained nuts and a basket which once contained bread ovals. The attendants placed down their trays and followed Melchior and the prince out of the library.

Schwartz and Weiss followed them to the exit as well. The other students in the library watched jealously as Hildebrand stroked their foreheads and promised to return soon. “Goodbye Mi’lady.” “See you soon,” they said. Hildebrand charged them to continue helping the librarians then began walking towards his villa.

The royal villas were at the end of the same hallway as the duchy teleporters so Melchior had no reason or opportunity to excuse himself. Many more students flooded the halls as they made their way back for lunch. All of them had to make way as Hildebrand walked by. “Do you know what you’re having for lunch?” he asked, wholly unaffected by the attention.

“I do not know until it is served. Even at home I leave the decision up to my chefs,” Melchior replied. He struggled not to glance around at all the students lowering their heads. It was normal for the clergy to give way in the same manner but there were far fewer of them and they weren’t nearly as bold as to stare after him.

“I often make requests. If I don’t they will serve the same things over and over again with little variation. It is often my favorite dishes, but I eventually grow tired of them,” Hildebrand continued.

“There is a noticeable repetition here at the Royal Academy but my personal chef has a passion for inventing new cuisine. If I wish to eat something a second time I have to ask or shower it with praise the first time it is served,” Melchior replied.

He was never more happy to be fifth. Had he had to pass all the way to door fifteen or farther, he wasn’t sure he could survive the increasingly intense stares. While the prince gave his goodbyes, Charlotte turned the corner into the hall. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today’s threads with exceptional grace and speed. Thank you for your assistance. I would be glad of it anytime.”

“I am at your service. I will attempt to visit often. May you rest well in the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves our threads together once again,” Melchior said with a bow. He waited next to the door until Hildebrand had walked far enough away then hurried inside.

Isolde immediately gave out a little screech then began giggling maniacally. She did not elaborate but walked quickly into the dormitory and up to her room. Many people gave her curious glances but no one felt bold enough to ask except for Sigsnyr who voiced his curiosity once they were gathered at the lunch table. Isolde passed him a sound blocker then began what must have been a florid account of the day because it was punctuated by elegant but forceful gesturing. Sigsnyr displayed every emotion from surprise to amusement and glanced at Melchior in shock several times. It was impossible to ignore when they sat on either side of him.

“Stop, stop. I have to eat at some point,” Sigsnyr said as he returned the magic tool. Isolde also hadn’t touched her food. Her attendant looked none too pleased by her ladies conduct and gave her a harsh look as she refilled her cup with water.

“Whatever she said I can assure you it was not that exciting,” Melchior whispered.

“Isolde may be delighted beyond words but she isn't given to exaggerating,” Sigsnyr replied.

Wilfried blew into the dining room. He was late and seemed intent on making up for lost time. His scholars and attendants were already eating. Only his knights rushed in behind him, chatting excitedly. Wilfried himself seemed just clear headed enough to listen to a report from his scholar.

“It seems half of Yurgenschmidt is talking about you and Prince Hildebrand. What did you do, Melchior?” he called from the end of the table. Isolde's excitement visibly lessened.

“I simply went to perform some transcriptions in the Archduke's Archive this morning. We happened to be returning at the same time for lunch. If that is enough to stir talk then I suppose there is talk,” Melchior replied. It was really that simple, he thought.

“You were transcribing ancient texts for fun?” Wilfried asked. Melchior nodded. Wilfried laughed heartily before leaning in to listen to his scholar again. The boy seemed to be indicating toward Isolde and explaining that it must be more for her to be so affected. Wilfried looked at the girl in question. He considered pressing his interrogation but knew from experience that her resolve was unshakable and her loyalty absolute. If that was all Melchior would say, she would never say more. “That is very like Rozemyne. Are you well versed?” His curiosity seemed to turn into something more calculating.

“I would not say so. But I can read it well enough,” Melchior replied.

Wilfried smirked at his scholar who glanced to the side. “If that is so. Would you be willing to look over my translation? I fear I will have to send it off to Ehrenfest at this rate.”

Melchior smiled. Wilfried was finally asking for his help at the Royal Academy. “Of course, dear brother. You may entrust it to me,” he said brightly.

“Thank you. I'll have it delivered after lunch. Please look at it when you have time.” He then continued carrying on a conversation with his own retinue.

Isolde had switched from sheer delight to abject annoyance. “Verbergan could not know him. Why has Entrindunge formed him so⁶?” she muttered.

“Isolde,” Melchior chided.

“My apologies,” she said and made a real start on her lunch.

Flautzeal’s attendant passed on an invitation from Charlotte to meet after lunch. Melchior was happy to accept. There was nothing secret or shameful to talk about this time so both of their retinues packed inside.

“I was surprised to see you conversing so casually with Prince Hildebrand, and just before our doors,” she said.

“We were both headed back for lunch and ended up walking together,” Melchior explained.

“And how did you end up together in the first place? Would you not need to give way when meeting him in the halls?”

“I was working in the Archduke's Archive; assisting with transcribing.”

“For fun?” she asked. Melchior stifled a laugh.

“It is not unpleasant, no. In truth, I agreed to help Prince Hildebrand because I couldn't bear to see him buried in so much work by himself,” he replied.

She smiled warmly. “You are always so earnest and helpful. I hear he has been charged with transcribing and translating every tablet. He must be terribly grateful for your assistance.” Her attention was drawn to Isolde who had found renewed excitement and was all but quivering in her chair. “Lady Isolde, do you have something you wish to share?”

Isolde looked at Melchior before responding, “I have yet to consult with my lord, so I am not sure how much I can say.” She sounded almost mournful.

“Nothing occurred which I would not share with Charlotte. You may feel free to speak,” Melchior said with some exasperation. He was also a bit curious as to what she could possibly be so delighted with.

He regretted it immediately. “I thank you ever so much, my lord. Lady Charlotte, you will simply not believe it. I did not fully appreciate the opportunity presented by the archive. To think, one could have unrestrained access to the ear of royalty. Sehweit could not tire of watching⁷. Lord Melchior, softly woven⁸ as he is, still had choice words. Did the bloom of Brennwarme not visit the prince in splendor⁹? And his retainers are simply terrible. The librarians told us ages ago that tea may be brought as well as food. To think Sovereign attendants could be third rate. They would see him forsaken by Cuococalura¹⁰. One might mistake them for subordinates of Geduldh¹¹.”

“Isolde, please. You are exaggerating,” Melchior cried. Charlotte looked incredibly amused and Melchior had given his permission so Isolde could not be stopped.

“I speak absolute truth. Oh, and the looks you received in the halls. The naked jealousy from the girls. One day you should escort him just to fuel their misery,” she said and templed her fingers. “You were fantastic, I must say. Like Angriff on the field of battle¹². Anyone could imagine you are a friend of princes and inured to admiration. That you did not glance down a single time on your journey from the library is excellent in the extreme.”

Melchior placed his head in his hands while Charlotte and her retainers giggled. Melchior’s own retainers smiled but seemed torn between mirth and compassion for his embarrassment. “It seems you had a delightful morning,” she said. “Do you mind telling us what you said that made his highness so red?” She leaned forward expectantly.

“I…,” Melchior had to pause. He genuinely didn't know when that occurred. Not to mention, Hildebrand had spent their entire session turning various shades of pink and red. There was no way to isolate a specific time. “I actually don't know. I don't think I was paying attention. Perhaps when I asked if I should sit elsewhere so as not to be a distraction,” he offered.

“It was after you paused for the second time during transcribing. After he gave you a quill and before beginning your second tablet,” Isolde said.

He was left amazed that she could remember it so clearly. Maybe it really was an important moment. “Ah. Then it would be as I said. He seems to retain a habit of watching others read,” Melchior explained.

“He retains a habit? When did he acquire it?” Charlotte asked.

Isolde was suddenly much more circumspect. “We are unsure.”

“It must be after he picked up a rafel for Rozemyne,” Charlotte said matter of factly. Isolde's eyes widened. “How could I not know?” Charlotte said with a tip of her head.

“It must be. You agree then,” Isolde asked. Then nodded together and shared a smile.

“And has he transferred his affections as well as his habit?”

“Sister. I am a boy,” Melchior protested.

“There is some precedent. The poor lad has listened to Bluanfah to Verdraeos’s ¹³ire before.”

“No. I do not think so,” Isolde replied.

“I believe we have said all there is to say, dear sister. I promised Wilfried I would assist him after lunch so I must call our meeting to a close, loath as I am to be parted from you,” Melchior said with a light glare at Isolde. She looked devastated but dutifully remained quiet.

“And we were having such fun. Dear brother, we must meet like this more often,” she said with a giggle and led her retainers out.

Once they were alone Melchior turned to Isolde. “Perhaps it is my fault for giving my permission but you must not say such things. What an incredible exaggeration you’ve presented to Charlotte.”

“It is no exaggeration, Lord Melchior. All that happened truly is so momentous,” she insisted.

“I actually have to agree,” Kolteruze sighed. “His retainers really are that bad.”

Zargerecht shook his head. “I did warn you that associating with royalty lends a heightened sense of importance to all actions. If you are uncomfortable being the center of all Academy gossip, you should distance yourself now.”

“Are those truly the only options?” Melchior asked. He didn't want to snub Prince Hildebrand. He seemed to have so few friends and so much responsibility.

“Do not worry about gossip. We can manage it for you,” Isolde promised. Zargerecht didn't look convinced.

“I think you would be the center of much talk whether you choose to befriend his highness or not,” Pepin said. All eyes turned to him.

“We are the Fifth so I suppose that's true,” Isolde said.

Pepin shook his head. “That isn't what I mean. Even while walking to the library, many people wished to speak to you and you spoke to them. Most Archduke Candidates don't do that.”

Isolde actually looked to Zargerecht for confirmation. “That's true,” he said.

“Though you will be uncomfortable when I say this,” Pepin looked to Melchior for permission to continue. Melchior couldn't let him stop at that so he gave his consent. “You are too attractive not to draw lots of attention.” For the second time that day, Melchior was filled with regret. He knew Pepin understood emotions better than anyone. If he said it would make him uncomfortable, Melchior should have listened.

“Surely not,” Melchior squeaked. He looked from one retainer to another hoping for someone to object but no one would meet his eyes. “Perhaps I will grow out of it. Many people find children adorable.” They still couldn't seem to agree.

“It will be the opposite,” Isolde replied.

“There are many beautiful people in Yurgenschmidt. I could not be singular in that respect,” he ventured. There were finally nods of agreement. He sighed in relief. With a bit of consideration he could find a way to stand out in another way.

After their meeting adjourned, Melchior went up to his room. Flautzeal brought the transcription for him to review. It was carefully done in Wilfried’s handwriting. There were also his scholars' attempts at translation. All scholars took an introductory class on ancient languages and those hoping to be archivists could take more. It seemed that all of Wilfried's scholars had stopped at the bare minimum. Thankfully, Wilfried was versed enough to make a clean copy of his slate. Melchior wasn't sure what he'd asked for but he’d received a tablet containing a ritual to summon lightning. It included a magic circle similar to those on divine instruments. Thanks to the circle taking up a large portion of the slate, it was also quite short. Melchior used the backside of one of the scholar's sad attempts to write out his own. It took less than a bell. After giving it back to Flautzeal to return, he worked on his painting until dinner.

Gewinnen with Leibshitze

Melchior felt bad about taking his Gewinnen board out of the common room. It had become a very popular spot for people to spend time. Both boys and girls could be found playing games or going over ditter strategy. Having forgotten to ask the Aub about sending one for permanent use by the students, he felt obligated to provide his own. Unfortunately for everyone else, he needed it for his tea party with Leibshitze.

They were having it in one of the tea party rooms in the Attendant Building since the one in Ehrenfest Dormitory connected to the central building was in use. Gewinnen boards were too large to transport across campus without a drivable highbeast so they would use carts. Melchior wasn't sure what kind of highbeast Leibshitze had but he didn't want to assume he could transport such a large and expensive object. The tea and snacks were also loaded onto carts along with his board and pieces.

He’d borrowed Wilfried's board after making solemn oaths to treat it with utmost care. Wilfried was much more protective of his pieces so they could only bring Melchior’s own along with those of his male knights. He was surprised to find out that neither Pepin nor Kolteruze had pieces. Their excuses were that they didn't need to socialize in the same way, for the former, and that they disliked the game on principle, for the latter. Zargerecht hadn't brought his pieces either since adult attendants of Archduke Candidates wouldn't have the free time needed to play. “Considering you are never in class, it is doubly so for me,” Zargerecht said. Melchior wasn't sure whether he should apologize for passing so quickly or simply promise to give Zargerecht more time off but the attendant accepted neither. “I do not need extra time to play games, Lord Melchior.”

Along with the Gewinnen bits, he brought a Reversi board and pieces for anyone who wanted to play that instead. Kolteruze double checked everything before they set off while Melchior fretted from over his shoulder. He was dressed in his uniform this time since it was such a casual meeting. For the first time, Sigsnyr would be with them as well.

Walking all the way from the dormitories to the Attendant Building with carts full of fragrant treats naturally drew lots of attention. Melchior quickly lost track of the attendants as he was waylaid by several people. He still hadn't met the same person twice and so had to pretend to know those in his grade and glean their names from conversation. It was easier when they had older students to introduce. He found himself much more self-conscious after their talk the previous day. He had to admit that a lot of girls found reason to greet him and gave him huge smiles but he also couldn't accept why they might be doing so. Melchior resolved to put it out of his mind.

He was saved from a particularly chatty group by Leibshitze. They were most of the way to the tea party room when he arrived next to his own cart pushed by an older boy from Dunkelfelger. The boy started upon seeing Sigsnyr but managed to keep doing his job. “Hello, Lord Melchior. The gods have answered my prayers and brought us together once again,” he said with a bow.

Melchior resisted the urge to correct him. “I am pleased beyond words that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven our threads tightly together and allowed us to meet once again,” he intoned. “It is good to see you.”

“It's nice to see you too. How was the Dedication Ritual?” he asked as they fell into step. Zipporah had to softly nudge him a little farther from Melchior. He didn't fight it and also seemed completely unfazed.

“It was shorter than usual this year. We had the help of some archnobles from the castle,” Melchior replied.

“Is it not normal for nobles to help?” Leibshitze asked.

“It is generally done by blue clergy. Only those serving in the temple are required to offer their mana. Do nobles assist in Dunkelfelger?”

“I’m actually not sure what the process is like. I assumed it was like the Academy rituals,” Leibshitze replied. Since he was already talking to someone, other students didn't attempt to walk up to him after passing greetings. They quickly made it to the tea party room. “You seem to know a lot of people,” Leibshitze remarked.

Melchior sighed. “I don't actually know any of them. I’ve only made three friends so far since I spent so little time in class.”

Leibshitze smiled brightly, “Am I one of these friends? Who are the others?” he chirped.

“Yes, you are. The others are Lady Raphaela of Klassenberg and Prince Hildebrand, though I’m not sure it's right to say he is my friend so casually.”

“Why wouldn't it be right if you're friends?” Leibshitze asked.

“People might assume I’m attempting to seem important by mentioning our relationship,” Melchior explained.

“I see. I thought that since you are both Archduke Candidates it wouldn't matter. I think I remember Raphaela. She passed Prayers and Rituals in the second week.” Leibshitze said. He looked around at all the tables and the boards as the older students prepared the room.

“Did anyone else pass in the second week?” Melchior asked.

Leibshitze shook his head as he walked around Wilfried's board to admire it. “Memorizing the prayers was hard. The names of the gods are so long and strange. After her it was mostly Archduke Candidates. I needed a lot of help from Gerianne. I’m not sure I would have passed until much later without her.” After this he noticed Isolde sitting in the corner taking notes. He walked over. “What are you writing?”

All of Melchior's retainers looked over in surprise. The older boy who’d come along to attend him walked over and steered him away. “She is a scholar and is taking notes on this meeting,” he whispered.

“Why take notes at a tea party?” he asked while being deposited next to Melchior again.

“It makes it easier to review what was said in case I promised to do something or someone told an interesting story. Does Lady Hannalore not bring scholars with her to tea parties?” Melchior said.

“I don't know. I’ve never been. I haven't started the scholars course yet,” Leibshitze replied. The boards were finally set. Melchior was placed at his own while Kolteruze coxed Leibshitze’s attendant into a chair across from Theodore with promises that Melchior's retainers could manage in his place. Thus absolved of his duty he had time to steal more glances at Sigsnyr.

“I apologize for speaking out of turn but I’m simply so surprised to see Lord Sigsnyr in knight’s apparel,” he said while checking his pieces. He’d been given Sigsnyr pieces which were all dark silver with ivory accents.

“Sigsnyr is a guard knight.” Melchior replied since Sigsnyr was currently doing his duty of standing silently next to the wall.

The older boy twisted in his chair to look at Melchior. “I had no idea. I only see him in class in the Attendant Building. Dunkelfelger has many attendants who train like knights, is it common in Ehrenfest to have the reverse?”

“No. Sigsnyr is of singular quality,” Melchior replied with a genuine smile.

“So it seems,” he said and turned back to begin playing. Leibshitze had brought his own board so Isolde and Flautzeal also began a game. Melchior had no idea where the spare set of pieces was from but he didn't have time to ask. Pepin and Kolteruze circulated to ensure everyone had tea and snacks.

Melchior turned back to his game with Leibshitze. They checked each other's pieces for lingering mana then set the board for a three stone game. Melchior selected a balanced spread of pieces while Leibshitze seemed to favor archers and support. It was very different from Wilfried's play style.

“You do not mind having knights who pursue other professions as well?” Leibshitze asked once they'd gotten under way. Isolde paused her game with Flautzeal to begin taking more notes.

“Not at all. I think it's good to learn many things,” Melchior replied. Leibshitze was not bad at the game but Melchior felt sure he could win so he was trying to take it seriously. He was therefore not as focused on Leibshitze’s questions.

“Is Lord Sigsnyr's primary profession that of guard knight?” Melchior nodded. “What if it was not. Would you still accept him as a knight?” Melchior nodded. Sigsnyr was such a good knight he couldn't imagine turning him away for being primarily an attendant.

Liebshitze became pensive and was quiet for some time. “You wish to be a scholar?” Melchior asked after the silence stretched on a bit too long.

“I did not pass the selection process to be a knight so I picked scholar,” he replied. “I will be a Scholar of the Sword.”

“So you truly wish to be a knight?” Melchior asked.

“I come from a family of knights. One of my uncles is the Knight Commander. My older cousin has traveled all over Yurgenschmidt to participate in true ditter,” Liebshitze said.

Melchior paused for a minute. He looked at Leibshitze and squinted. Only his name resembled the commander of Dunkelfelger’s one hundred knights sent to Ehrenfest. “Would you happen to mean Sir Heisshitze?”

“You have heard of him!?”

“I have met him. We hosted him at our victory banquet in Ehrenfest,” Melchior said.

Leibshitze bounced in his chair. “He often speaks of how incredible a time he had in Ehrenfest. He even had a duel with the Archduke. Which he said was amazingly good. The Archduke is your father, no?”

“Yes. Lord Heisshitze said Father was good at dueling?” Melchior asked. He hadn't considered whether his father was a strong knight since he left all knightly things to Sir Karstedt or Bonifatius.

“Yes. He said the Archduke was terrifying with a bow but he finds Lord Ferdinand to be his most fearsome opponent. He has not beaten him yet,” Leibshitze explained while taking one of Melchior's pieces.

Playing against Leibshitze was like fighting a wall. Every bit of ground gained came only after excessive planning and heavy losses. Melchior was managing to take pieces at a similar rate but it felt like back breaking work. Leibshitze seemed to be having a perfectly calming time. He enjoyed his cake and tea and looked unburdened by the carnage before them.

“He’s never beaten Uncle? How many times have they dueled? I do not think they had much opportunity while Sir Heisshitze was in Ehrenfest.”

“They went to the Royal Academy together. Heisshitze challenged Lord Ferdinand to dozens of ditter matches. He even bet his embroidered cape. He has never won.” Isolde looked over with wide eyes.

Melchior was also amazed. Capes were such a personal item. “His wife must be so upset,” he said.

Leibshitze shrugged. “She is not as angry as one would think but she encourages him to win it back one day.”

They continued for a while in silence as their game moved closer to its conclusion. The board was a terrible mess full of holes in both formations.

“Is it true that Lord Ferdinand was High Bishop of Ehrenfest as well?” Leibshitze asked.

“He was High Priest,” Melchior corrected.

“And those are different things,” Leibshitze asked. Melchior nodded.

“How does one become a priest?”

“I’m not sure how it is done in Dunkelfelger. In Ehrenfest one can be sent by one's family or choose to join. In those cases, you lose or give up your noble duties. You can also be sent as punishment for commiting a crime. I believe that is why the temple had such a poor reputation. In recent years the Archduke has assigned a member of the Archductal family to the highest positions and allowed some clergy to retain their noble place,” Melchior explained.

“So it is not only for criminals,” Leibshitze mused. “Are there any rituals one can do if not a priest?”

“There is the ritual for summoning Spring, the healing spells and rituals, mana replenishment on the duchy and provincial foundations, miscellaneous blessings from any god, and some others that are reserved for knights. There may be more but that is what I know,” Melchior replied while only half paying attention. He was in a desperate position.

“What is mana replenishment? Does it require a lot of mana?”

“It is like the Dedication Ritual. The prayer is the same. The activity itself doesn't have a mana requirement but foundation magic requires a great deal of mana. That is why the Archductal family so rarely spends their mana on anything else.”

“You must have a lot of mana if you can do all the temple rituals and mana replenishment,” Leibshitze observed.

Melchior shook his head. “I was too young to contribute.”

Leibshitze paused his playing. He felt sure that Melchior had implied being High Bishop for at least a couple of years. How was he old enough to be a religious leader but too young to contribute to his family's mana needs? He found himself full of awe and felt encouraged. Being a priest didn't sound like it took that much mana and wasn't just for criminals. There was only one more thing to find out.

“Being a priest means getting more divine protections? You can gain elements too?”

“That I don't know. It might make it easier. Do you mind saying Nikolaus, how many you gained?” Melchior called over.

Nikolaus shook his head and stepped forward. “I received thirteen divine protections and gained two elements,” he declared then stepped back. Leibshitze wasn't the only person shocked by this. Melchior was sure that was close to what Wilfried had received and he’d been performing mana replenishment.

“For context. I began with three elements, gained one and gained four protections from subordinate gods. I’ve only been participating in rituals here at the Academy and using charms,” Pepin added.

“Isn't there only the one ritual?” Leibshitze asked, still filled with wonder.

“There is also replenishing the gathering spot.”

“I forgot about that one,” Melchior said. He began to think harder. “I’m not sure if it counts but it is useful to offer mana to the Divine Instruments. You gain the ability to summon them.”

“Many knights attempt to acquire Leidenschaft’s spear.” Leibshitze said.

Melchior couldn't help but smile. He remembered the stories about Dunkelfelger knights charging into their temple to acquire the spear “I think Flutrane’s staff is more useful. It allows you to heal many people at once.”

Leibshitze touched his arm. “Healing many people sounds difficult. It is hard to heal just one person.”

“Are you hurt, Leibshitze?” Melchior asked.

The young pre-apprentice scholar smiled. “It is just a small bruise from training. I’ve tried to teach the others the healing spells. It is harder than we initially thought,” he admitted.

Melchior reached out and granted healing. He focused on how it felt and wondered how anyone might find it all that hard. “Is the prayer hard to remember?” he asked.

“I… thank you. I don't think it's that. It takes a great deal of mana especially if the wound is severe and you lack Water,” Leibshitze was filled with awe all over again. He and the other students had been trying very hard to learn the healing spell and struggling mightily. That Melchior found it seemingly trivial was shocking.

Melchior looked to his own retainers. They seemed to agree with that assessment. “The staff can also be used to restore the land after dark faebeast attacks. Though that is normally a thing priests do,” Melchior tried to recover some honor for the Staff of Flutrane. “It's also very pretty,” he added for good measure.

Leibshitze was not too awestriken to achieve victory. Their game was very close and hard fought but he won in the end. Melchior spent a while staring at the board and trying to figure out where he went so wrong. “Would you like to go over the game?” Leibshitze asked. Melchior nodded then watched in amazement as Leibshitze fiddled with something on the board. The game began to play in reverse. They sat together and watched it all play out. Without any pauses it looked incredibly majestic and just as bitterly fought. Melchior experienced the saddening loss of his troops all over again.

“Stop it,” he said. Leibshitze fiddled again and stopped the replaying. Melchior looked at the pieces, he felt like this was the moment things had turned against him. It was so easy to see now that he wasn't in the middle of things. “What a terrible move,” he muttered.

“I think you played very well. I normally have to play with Father to have any competition,” Leibshitze said.

Melchior felt strange. It didn't seem like Leibshitze had been strained by their match. It would make sense if he were accustomed to playing adults from Dunkelfelger but that meant he must be being overly kind to say that Melchior constituted competition. They finished their replay and Leibshitze pointed out some key moments. Once the pieces were all properly drained and stored they settled back for a bit more tea and cake.

“This is delicious. I’ve only had cake like this at the castle,” Leibshitze said. He also seemed happy with the tea selection.

“What kind of treats are served at tea parties in Dunkelfelger?” Melchior asked.

“We have a lot of kinds of fruit. Since it's very hot there, no one likes to bake very much.”

“It sounds like crepes would be very popular,” Melchior mused.

“What is a crepe?”

“It's a very thin and sweet bread made from flour and milk and I think eggs but I'm not sure.”

“Like a sweet buchlette?”

“What is a buchlette?” Melchior asked.

“It is a thin savory bread made from flour, water, and salt. They are often wrapped around thinly sliced meat and cheese. You can buy them from carts in the city in Dunkelfelger,” Leibshitze explained.

It was Melchior's turn to be in awe. He’d never eaten anything not prepared by his or his family's chefs. It sounded thrilling to visit the city for exotic snacks. He thought about going himself then remembered his vows to Sigsnyr. He sighed. He would never get to find out if this food was even made in Ehrenfest.

Leibshitze noticed his sudden sadness but didn't feel like he should mention it. “A sweet version sounds nice. Do you serve it with fruit?”

Melchior rallied and rejoined the conversation. “Yes, with fruit and cream. Sometimes with jam or ice cream.”

There were so many strange foods in Ehrenfest, Leibshitze thought. “What is ice cream?” He wasn't sure how one could obtain a cream from frozen water.

“It is cream mixed with sugar or honey and whipped then frozen. At least I think that's how it's made. It's very good in the summer so perhaps you should buy the recipe,” Melchior said.

“If it is as good as the cake then I will have to ask my parents to consider it.”

“It is better,” Melchior said with solemn seriousness. Nikolaus also nodded unconsciously. Melchior’s other retainers looked both curious and jealous.

“Then I will ask them,” Leibshitze replied just as seriously.

Theodore’s game ended at about this time. Dunkelfelger's attendant held his head as Theodore gave a restrained cheer. Melchior asked how to perform the replaying spell then they all watched Theodore's game together. It was a pitched battle between aggressive forces that seemed to go nowhere until Theodore won all at once.

“That is quite exciting,” Isolde noted and asked about the replaying as well. Leibshitze gave a demonstration for everyone using Isolde and Flautzeal’s two stone game. Flautzeal had one handily but Melchior was more impressed that Isolde had moved on to two stones so soon after learning how to play.

At the end Melchior gave a formal goodbye and walked Leibshitze and his attendant to the door with their cart. “Thank you for coming. I learned much from our game.”

“This was delightful. May you rest with the divine protections.” Leibshitze said before walking off and striking up an exciting conversation with his fellow duchyman.

“I’m not sure whether he knows the proper greetings and says it wrong on purpose or if he truly is so poorly raised,” Isolde mused once they were alone with Melchior’s retinue.

“Do not speak ill of him,” Melchior chided. Zargerecht had forced him to sit since he kept attempting to assist his attendants. He would have sent Melchior back to the dormitory but his oath concerning Wilfried's board meant he couldn't let it out of his sight.

“It is not ill so much as an observation,” Isolde countered.

“He does not seem to mean any disrespect but I fear he will not be able to interact with other Archduke Candidates properly,” Flautzeal said.

“It is confusing every time,” Melchior conceded. “I wonder if I should correct him. But that seems very rude.”

“It would be quite rude. The correct thing would be to cease associating with him,” Zargerecht called from where he was clearing away the games.

Melchior shivered. He didn't want to lose his new friend. “I will just endure it and offer guidance if he asks,” he decided.

“If that is your wish,” Isolde said and canceled her plans to seek him out and give guidance.

They made their way back to the dormitory. Melchior was stopped frequently once again. His board was placed back in the common room and immediately descended upon by a group of girls. Isolde slipped away to show them the new spell.

With his time before and after dinner he worked on his painting and wrote his first report home. He didn't feel like he had much to report so he talked about his work in the archive, his tea with Leibshitze, and the progress of their ‘research’. After showing it to Zargerecht and sending it with Flautzeal to be added to the reports of his siblings he spent a bit of time reflecting.

His very first opponent at the Royal Academy had been so much better at Gewinnen it was laughable that he'd ever imagined he was skilled. Leibshitze was clearly going easy on him. All he could do was resolve to practice more and look for a book containing some strategy.

Before bed, he and Pepin had a much nicer conversation about their time at school. Melchior listened to him speak wistfully about his classes and all the new things he was struggling to remember. He was also growing less afraid of knights from meeting so many of Nikolaus’s friends and classmates. They laughed together about how terrible Kolteruze proved to be at tutoring despite receiving the highest grades out of the Ehrenfest attendants. “I don’t think he understands that other people can be confused,” Pepin teased. Pepin meanwhile was enjoying tutoring his peers, even some of the older students went to him for assistance. He was able to help people learn even things he didn’t understand himself. This time he made it back to the bench before falling asleep.

Footnotes

6. “He has no concept of discretion” followed by “why was he born this way”^{^}

7. “The speculation could never cease” or “we could talk forever about the possibilities”^{^}

8. Guileless^{^}

9. He was blushing. In splendor denotes that it was particularly bad.^{^}

10. They are starving him^{^}

11. Geduldh's subordinates are conspicuously absent having left her side ages ago to entreat Flutrane to save their lady. They didn't go back so I imagine people refer to them when throwing shade at bad retainers.^{^}

12. Relaxed and confident^{^}

13. “Made poor love decisions” or “developed a doomed crush” or “invited chaos through his romantic endeavors” ^{^}

Chapter Text

Brewing with Flautzeal

It was an important week for Isolde. She’d been compressing her mana so much she looked gaunt and sickly. Both Zipporah and Sigsnyr were taking turns fretting over her while everyone else watched on with worry. Despite feeling terrible, she passed the exam for the names of all the gods and earned the right to perform the Divine Protections ritual. The knights made sure she had potions before walking her to class and Melchior reminded her to fill the entire circle.

Melchior tried to be busy enough to ignore his anxiety. He went to the brewing room to offer his assistance now that he could do the most basic brews. Flautzeal came along and even agreed to help with ditter preparations a little. He commandeered a corner of the brewing room and collected the ingredients for basic stamina only potions.

Melchior and Flautzeal had to ask a scholar to wash their tools but were then able to work quietly. At least, things began quietly. Melchior started cutting his roots and didn’t finish until Flautzeal was completely finished with all of his ingredients. He still couldn’t make evenly small pieces on the first pass so he was carefully spot-cutting the offensively large bits.

“You are impressively bad at chopping,” Flautzeal declared. The entire brewing room took in a sharp breath. Such naked criticism of an Archduke Candidate was unheard of.

Melchior didn’t seem particularly affected by the rudeness. He placed down his knife with a sigh. “I’ve only just learned, Flautzeal. I’ve only made four potions in all my life,” he said.

“Oh, well. Then you just need better instruction. Who taught you this?” Flautzeal asked. The other scholars were still shaking with fear. No one could get away with speaking to their boss that way. Surely, Melchior would explode with anger and the ensuing catastrophe would affect them all. It was unfortunate that so many were in the middle of brews they couldn’t walk away from.

“Zipporah and Veremund,” Melchior replied. “Did they do a bad job?”

Flautzeal shook his head and brought his own knife over to Melchior’s cutting board. “It is bad form to mix implements but your potion was not going to be high enough quality for it to matter,” he began. “I would not say they did a bad job as this is your fifth brew and you at least know what to aim for in ingredient processing.” He gave a pointed look around the room then began a lesson on the best way to cut each type of ingredient for speed and uniformity. He corrected Melchior’s cutting posture and grip on his knife. By the time they were finished. Melchior had chopped enough herbs and roots for four potions. He looked at the piles and sighed. He didn’t want to stand here long enough to brew all four.

“We can batch brew the potions. We will even add mine. Can someone draw a time-saving circle for us?” Few people seemed willing to come under his ire after seeing the harshness of his teaching. Those that had completed their brews had already left while the rest were chained to their pots. “We will have to do it ourselves. It is much more difficult with a mana pen.” He got a wooden board and drew out the circle. Melchior practiced a few times then prepared to draw it in the air.

He’d never drawn a circle not on a solid surface. It was difficult to keep everything flat and level. He had to keep redoing it until Flautzeal was satisfied. “Be sure to practice,” he said, then took his own magic pen and wrote the circle himself very slowly. It took him much longer than Melchior and seemed to strain him. His tools were beautifully crafted from darkly stained wood and bore his family's crest. It was the same one used on all their instruments. Having seen it now, Melchior realized just how prolific and pervasive their business was. Once the circle was drawn it hung in the air over the brewing pot, its lines dark, waiting to be activated.

Melchior began the process of dissolving the ingredients using his lion headed brewing stick. It took about as long as normal despite involving more materials. He wondered what governed how quickly things broke down. “That was amazingly fast. You must have very fine control over your mana flow,” Flautzeal complimented. Melchior smiled brightly at this genuine praise and moved on to his next plant. Once everything was in, Flautzeal directed him to touch the circle and add a very small amount of mana to activate it.

After taking some deep breaths, he lifted his left hand, since the other was mixing, and brushed against the floating sigils. He tipped his imaginary chalice the smallest amount and managed to release only a drop. The circle lit up immediately with no adverse effects. “I shouldn’t be surprised any more but you have an amazing quantity of mana, Lord Melchior. It normally takes me some time to fill the circle.”

Melchior stirred while Flautzeal talked about how he helped brew at home. His family had a lot of highly specialized brews so he had to begin learning quite young, even before he was capable of doing them. As it stood, he barely had the mana to manage most things. “You still have many years to compress during your growth period, you can develop enough mana to work comfortably,” Melchior encouraged. “Having more Divine Protections will also make your use of mana more efficient.”

“They make mana use more efficient? I knew they were important and beneficial but I had no idea they would make such a difference,” Flautzeal said. Melchior was again surprised by the poor dissemination of knowledge even in Ehrenfest. “I will have to find ways to pray and rituals to conduct,” he murmured.

Melchior glanced around then leaned in to whisper in his ear, “You can always come to the temple to donate to the Divine Instruments. I’ll try to come up with something else too.”

“If you think that will help, I’ll ask my parents. Isolde said she does some work for the High Priest.”

Melchior nodded. “All my retainers assist in the many offices. I’m not very useful by myself so I bring people who can help. Are you good at accounting and transcription? Can you draw straight lines with a rule?”

“Who could not make a straight line with the assistance of a ruler?” Flautzeal asked with a truly baffled expression.

“You would be amazed.” He’d seen the sad attempts of some apprentice scholars to create the forms.

They continued chatting about the work of Melchior’s retinue and his desires to gain more skills and be more helpful. Flautzeal seemed to share his attitude and hoped to do work worthy of his family’s name.

Once the potion flashed they ran into a problem. There was no one around to check its quality. Most of the scholars remaining were older students whom Melchior only knew the names of. He neither wanted to force them to help nor did he trust them to give accurate feedback. It wouldn’t be the first time someone gave him praise for poor work in an attempt to gain his favor. So, he sent Flautzeal to retrieve Veremund from the training room. The medscholar was happily spending most of his time there these days.

The other scholars watched him enter and whispered between themselves. He was very obviously freshly Waschened since the smell of working with hides would linger otherwise. This was a courtesy he showed Melchior but didn’t always show others so he was developing a slight reputation. Still, he was more than capable of testing their brew. He poured a bit into an empty vial, dripped a few drops in his mouth, and asked about their process.

“It isn’t poison,” he concluded first. After waiting for the drops to take effect he added, “It seems as effective as any other low level stamina potion. I think this is your first truly successful brew. And you even used a time-saving circle,” Veremund cooed. Melchior beamed while Flautzeal smiled shyly even though he was doing his best to remain straight faced. He helped them bottle their work and clean their station while chatting about his progress on the tanning liquid.

“In truth, I think I’ve learned all I can from dissecting it. I think I need to try making substitutions now,” he admitted. “I’ve never done so much tweaking to a recipe before. Though I fear I won’t have much to publish, the work is proving to be very good practice.”

“I think it's very basic knowledge, but you are welcome to consult Uncle’s brewing text. So far, I haven’t been able to make much sense of it. I just haven’t brewed enough.”

Veremund stared at him with narrowed eyes until the light of surprise filled his expression. He leaned close. “Are you referring to a book authored by Lord Ferdinand? About brewing?!” Melchior nodded. “I… I cannot even imagine what incredible knowledge it would impart. If you truly are willing to lend it I would be honored.” Melchior agreed to have it sent to him before they added the potions to the collection of bottles being prepared for ditter and left the brewing room in high spirits.

Isolde returned at lunch time looking happy in spite of still seeming quite ill. She shivered with excitement the entire meal until she could drag Melchior and his retinue into a meeting room. “I received the protections of my primary gods plus Verbergan and I gained wind from Mestinora. I now have five elements,” she announced excitedly. She hadn’t managed to gain Geduldh’s protection from her offerings to Zipporah’s charm but she didn’t seem at all sad about it. She placed the charm back in Zipporah’s hands with utmost care. “I thank you ever so much for your generosity. And you as well, Lord Melchior. I should not have managed had you not given me the time to devote more prayers.”

“Congratulations, Isolde. This is all due to your own hard work,” Melchior said.

“That is rather impressive, considering how little time you had to pray,” Pepin noted. He was amazed by how much having more mana to spend could speed up the process.

“You’ve inspired me to be more dedicated,” Flautzeal said and began considering which charms to brew. “I think we should publicize your results to encourage others to take their prayer more seriously.”

“Divine Protections are normally a private thing,” Zipporah countered.

“Flautzeal may be right. If we are trying to rehabilitate the reputation of prayer and the temple, it might be wise to be more candid about our own experiences. That Nikolaus obtained nearly as many as Lord Wilfried is incredibly impressive. Only his work as a blue priest could allow him access to the rituals needed to offer that much mana,” Isolde said.

They all considered this. Most people couldn’t even achieve the same results as Nikolaus even if they had similar mana capacities. Wilfried had mana replenishment and took over some of Rozemyne’s duties while she was in juerve. Rozemyne herself had more protections than she was willing to disclose but it was more than Sylvester who was happy to tell everyone he had more than twenty and close to thirty. Ritual participation seemed to have quite a large impact on how many protections a person obtained. Melchior considered how he could allow more people to perform more rituals. His student retainers wouldn’t even benefit from Ehrenfest’s Dedication Ritual.

“I can ask if guests are allowed to participate in Spring Summoning. Then Isolde might participate in another ritual,” Zipporah offered.

“I am not allowed to work outside the Noble’s Quarter nor can I take a trip to Haldenzel,” Isolde sighed.

“I will ask Kazmiar and look in the Archduke’s Archive. There are some rituals with very mild effects which we might add to our calendar,” Melchior concluded. The scholars also agreed to ask people from other duchies what they were doing to incorporate more rituals.

A Royal Interlude

Being finished with his classes did little to relax Hildebrand's schedule. He was called almost weekly to unlock the Farthest Hall for schtappe acquisitions. He knew for a fact it was possible to just give the professors a faestone with his mana but Eglantine was justifiably cautious about allowing people in.

Thankfully, many students had returned home or were busy with socializing so conflicts had become fewer and farther between. Rozemyne had also begun sending warnings before she engaged in strange activities or sent massive pillars of light into the sky. Pillars of light were also a more normal sight these days. He also didn't have to personally respond to most beacons. The Sovereign Knights Order handled distress calls without his input.

There was one responsibility he could not defer. Each week, he spent one morning retrieving the Divine Instruments from Farthest Hall and hosting donations in the auditorium. There was no advertising this activity but many students still knew about it. At this stage in the term, all those who came just to meet the prince had met him and subsequently stopped coming. Those who genuinely wished to learn the Divine Instruments still insisted on making perfunctory conversation and giving formal greetings and lengthy thanks.

The most consistent duchy was Dunkelfelger. Their knights and retainers of the sword appeared each week to donate to Leidenschaft’s spear. With so many donations, it was necessary to drain it of mana midway through each session lest it begin crackling with blue lightning.

The next most popular item was Schutzaria's shield followed by Flutrane's staff. Waldetrude of Drewanchel donated regularly to Geduldh's chalice while only Melchior’s tiny, pale haired knight had ever made an offering to Ewigeliebe’s sword after having its one and only use explained to them. Hildebrand noticed when she stopped coming because she would wear her vestments and only gave a very brief greeting. The greetings this morning were not brief. There was also a fresh influx of Dunkelfelgerians.

“May I offer a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life,” intoned a rather small first year. He wore armor like a knight but Hildebrand was sure he was too short to pass the exams.

“You may,” the prince replied.

“May his highness be blessed. I am Leibshitze here to become a noble worthy to serve Yurgenschmidt. I would like to donate to the Divine Instruments.”

Hildebrand held his comments that it was obviously what he was here for as that was the only thing to do here at the moment. “Do you know which instrument you wish to learn?”

“I was leaning towards Leidenschaft’s Spear but is there one more useful?” Leibshitze asked. He was still kneeling having missed Hildebrand’s gesture that he should rise.

“Those who learn Schutzaria's shield may summon it in place of the normal variant. It provides superior protection. Flutrane's staff allows one to heal many people at once and restore land ravaged by dark faebeasts.” Hildebrand replied. He wondered if they shouldn't simply distribute an announcement to all the duchies with this information. Unfortunately, that might encourage more people to come. It was already a matter of chance whether mednobles of the lowest ranked duchies could make their way to the front of the line.

Leibshitze surveyed the table of golden objects. “What does the Goddess of Light crown do?” he asked.

“It’s only known use is as part of the blessing for Starbindings. It is believed to hold power in relation to contracts and oaths.”

“I think I will choose the spear after all. Thank you for explaining, your highness.” Liebshitze finally stood up and walked to the spear. It was at the end of the table so nobles couldn't carry on their conversation with Hildebrand while making a donation. A few other first years, no doubt friends of Leibshitze, offered first time greetings and asked many of the same questions. After the second person, Hildebrand called the rest up together so he could explain all at once.

It was not uncommon for people to obliquely imply it was strange for Hildebrand himself, rather than one of his retainers, to give these explanations. Everyone expected a prince to receive greetings from a seat and then pass people along to his retinue if he was personally present at all. For Hildebrand, this was part of his penance. That it was tedious and unpleasant was part of the point. If he could not humble himself to be a priest, he could at least be humble enough to talk to the student body.

It was part way through lunch by the time the last person came forward. She was a mednoble from Lortzig who diligently came to offer mana to Flutrane's staff. Hildebrand did not have a heart to tell her she was unlikely to be able to maintain its shape, let alone use it. Since she only made it to the table one out of three weeks, she always gave as much mana as she could which amounted to three small faestones with the use of a rejuvenation potion. Having struggled diligently for years to learn various Divine Instruments, he knew she wouldn't make it in time for graduation. Once, he’d advised a student to visit their own temple during the remainder of the year. They had been so offended, he no longer gave this counsel even if he knew it was the only way someone would ever acquire one. He hoped it might lead them to more protections.

Unlike a student staying in a duchy dormitory, Hildebrand's meals were served whenever he asked for them. He was still in a hurry as an Archduke Candidate had made an appointment to visit the archive that afternoon. Hildebrand was also afraid that Melchior might visit then leave after finding out the prince wasn't there. He would not admit to anyone how much he looked forward to seeing Ehrenfest’s youngest Archduke Candidate nor how sad Hildebrand was every time he didn't appear.

Thus he consumed his meal so fast he barely tasted it and stored away his fatigue from the morning to hurry to the library.

More work Underground

There were only a few days before Melchior was scheduled to accompany Wilfried to a tea party with Wilfried's friends. It would be the first event at the Royal Academy he was attending without having to prepare anything. Kolteruze and Pepin had taken care of what treats he would bring while he was away in Ehrenfest. He didn't feel nearly as nervous while Kolteruze seemed more relaxed than usual.

They were going to play Gewinnen, so he took some time to practice. He played against one of the older girls in the common room. She seemed to be at least as good as most of the boys from the Autumn Gewinnen tournament but not nearly as skilled as Leibshitze. Still, she expressed joy at the opportunity to play someone who wasn't just learning for the first time. It seemed the other boys were generally unwilling to play with the girls even if they could be convinced to lend their pieces while most girls had never been taught to play. As thanks she told him there were a few guides in the Royal Academy library which explained high level game theory.

Melchior also spent some time designing a schtappe for Isolde. She still hadn't communicated any strong feelings about the aesthetic nor did she have any crests or maternal symbols she wanted to incorporate. He wasn't sure whether it didn't matter to her or she was only being polite in accepting his help. As he began brainstorming, he prepared his heart for her to reject the design. If she didn't like it, he could offer it to other people in the dorm as an example of the possibilities.

Since he was preparing for the chance that some generic noblewoman might end up using it, he focused on creating something of tasteful elegance. Those words always brought to mind his sisters and the gifts his uncle tended to give. Charlotte’s schtappe was of an understated design and featured a crest she created with Florencia to represent the women of the Archductal family. It didn't feel right to copy it. Rozemyne, on the other hand, used the same boring shape as most adults. He was left with his memories of Ferdinand's jewelry designs.

There were the five rainbow faestones hung from silver chains. That was too simple and also too closely associated with Rozemyne. He examined some of his charms but couldn't tell the difference between them and other people's. There seemed to be a unified idea about what they should look like. The only objects that stuck out in his memory were the flower hair stick and the golden torc. Flower hair sticks were very common in Ehrenfest so it seemed like a safe choice. It was just a bit difficult to decide where to place the flowers since schtappes needed to be usable objects gripped in the hand.

As he worked, he remembered Charlotte’s fancy collars made of pure embroidery. As far as he knew, Isolde's only true hobby was embroidering. He combined the open work design of the torc with some patterns he remembered. His own clothes were covered in such details but they felt fundamentally different to what girls wore.

After sharing his woes with Flautzeal, the young scholar left then reappeared with several handkerchiefs purportedly of Isolde's own make. Melchior copied the floral designs and created a pattern. For the schtappe itself, he copied Theodore's ivory material except with a purely yellow sheen to represent Schutzaria's Country Gate in particular. That would make up the lower handle section and end in a loop for a golden chain from which flowers could hang. He settled on rairein flowers since he was fairly certain there was only one Goddess Bath and it was in Ehrenfest. For the business end, the gold openwork design would wrap around a five element faestone, in Isolde's case, and be capped with a flower bud shaped finial.

He felt happy with a couple of ideas so he had Pepin cut long strips of paper to make larger versions. Aside from his favorite, he also drew one with a different pattern which would have faestones set into the open work but no core on the inside and a third which swapped the ivory to the front and had a gold, ovular handle with carvings based on the embroidery. He finished the drawings with paint and sent all three for Isolde's review.

Since there was still time to prepare, Melchior planned to seek out the Gewinnen books but he felt strange going to the library without spending at least a bit of time helping. On the day he wished to go, Hildebrand's schedule said he would only be there in the afternoon. Thus plans for an after lunch library adventure were solidified. His guards would have to miss ditter training but his safety took priority.

While he might have left someone behind, he only had three archknights who could follow him down the stairs and couldn't handle Theodore's look of abject disappointment whenever he had to be left behind in the dormitory. Of course Zargerecht and Isolde were coming. Not even seeming ready to topple over at any moment would keep her from accompanying her lord to the most magical place on campus. It was decided that only tea and no snacks would be brought since they had only just had the midday meal.

As they set off, Melchior offered his teetering scholar his arm. She attempted to reject it for being unprofessional to be escorted while she was working but even Zargerecht agreed it would be worse if she fell. This did absolutely nothing to quell the tide of greetings so his progress through the halls was as slow as ever.

“Welcome back Melchior.” “Melchior is here,” called the shumils as he entered the reading room. They walked over and he stroked their foreheads and filled their buttons. “Drawing today?” asked Weiss.

“I am here to assist his highness. Is he not here?” Melchior asked.

“Milady not here,” Weiss replied.

“I see, then can you show me any books about Gewinnen,” he requested. The large white shumil stood still for a moment before nodding happily.

“There are 47 records including the topic of Gewinnen.” Melchior was absolutely stunned. He wasn't sure where he would start or if he would have time to check each one to find the best advice.

“Oh ho, you’ll be here all night if you check them all,” Professors Kriemhilde tittered. He made his way over to the desk with Weiss and, after making a donation and saying a prayer to Mestinora to help him sort through all the Gewinnen knowledge, asked if she could help in any way. “I don't know much about our Gewinnen collection specifically but I suspect Weiss is offering every book which even mentions the game. You will have to be more specific with your query.”

“Weiss, how many records are about Gewinnen as their main topic?” Melchior attempted.

“There are twelve records,” it replied. That was still too many.

“Can you bring me the best one?”

“Which is best?”

Professor Kriemhilde continued to be amused. “Best can mean so many things: most loaned, most read, clearest handwriting. And those are just the things Schwartz and Weiss are capable of telling you.”

“Can you bring us the record, primarily about Gewinnen, that has been checked out the most times by the oldest students of Dunkelfelger?” Isolde asked.

“That seems too complicated?” Melchior said but Weiss nodded and tottered away to retrieve it.

“You are seeking records of Dunkelfelger?” asked a girl who was just approaching the main desk. She was about as tall as Sigsnyr and had magenta hair and red eyes. Melchior vaguely remembered her as being an Archduke Candidate from Losrenger. She was attended only by an older woman and two knights.

“Greetings Lady Margarethe, what brings you to the library?” Melchior greeted.

“Greetings… Lord Melsire? I’ve come to complete my assignment for the Archduke Candidate course,” she replied.

It felt wrong to point out that she’d gotten his name wrong so he soldiered on. “How wonderful, it seems we will be working together. Have you selected a ritual to research?”

“This will be my first visit. You seem quite young to be working on an assignment? Are you hoping to get a headstart?” she asked.

Melchior attempted to stand up tall before replying, “I am only here to assist with transcribing the tablets for the royal family. One must be an Archduke Candidate to enter the archive so it is work only an Archduke Candidate can do. In fact, only archnobles may even descend the stairs to attend. I consider it a great privilege to be able to assist.”

“It is an honor to be of use to the Zent,” Margarethe teased. She then took a moment to confer with her retainers. Her adult attendant excused herself to send a few ordonnanz.

During this conversation, Weiss had returned with the book which Zargerecht kindly accepted. He flipped through it at the front desk and found it was about Gewinnen strategy but made no effort to verify the quality of its lessons. He did not think himself qualified to judge the topic.

“Mi’lady is here,” Schwartz announced. Margarethe was momentarily surprised to hear it speak but recovered her poise immediately. Melchior instinctively turned toward the entrance.

“To whom do they refer?” she asked when it was clear they weren't speaking to her.

“Prince Hildebrand is their current mistress. They refer to all their masters as ‘Mi’lady’ since they were first created by a queen,” Melchior explained.

“You seem to know a great deal about the library, Lord Melsire,” Margarethe observed. She also turned toward the entrance in preparation. Since two Archduke Candidates were focused on the same thing, many other students turned their attention to the door. It took a strangely long time for Hildebrand to appear. He glanced around at all the eyes then walked confidently toward the desk.

Schwartz and Weiss descended upon him immediately. They bounced around in a circle, showering him with welcome. He also stroked their foreheads and greeted them warmly. “Greetings, Lady Margarethe and Lord Melchior. Are you here to visit the archive?”

Margarethe glanced at Melchior and mouthed his name herself. “Indeed, your highness. I’ve come to offer my assistance once again,” Melchior said.

“I offer greetings on this afternoon ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life,” the older girl intoned with a bow. She wasn't sure just how close the small Archduke Candidate from the ochre duchy was with the Prince but she, herself, wasn't going to chance giving offense.

“I accept your greetings. Are you both ready to descend?” Prince Hildebrand replied. Melchior noted that he looked kind of tired even though he seemed happy to see them. Hildebrand looked at Isolde where she was still attached to Melchior's arm. She was the scholar who giggled at his embarrassment the last time they worked together. At the moment she was doing a very good job of smiling through some bout of great discomfort.

“I must wait for a few moments. Please do not allow me to delay you,” Margarethe said after a glance at her attendant. She smiled a noble smile before moving over to join her.

Hildebrand waited next to the desk for Aloysia to arrive and asked if there was anything the shumils were needed for before he took them away. “You need not worry about us. There is more than one librarian now,” Kriemhilde assured him.

“Then let us go, Lord Melchior,” the prince declared and led the black and ochre cloaks into the closed-stack archive. Professor Aloysia opened the door and began walking down the stairs followed by Kriemhilde. Hildebrand fell into place next to Melchior causing the columns of cloaks to develop again. “I hope you’ve been well. Have you been to many tea parties yet?”

“I am due to attend a Gewinnen gathering with Wilfried tomorrow and another tea with Charlotte sometime after. Otherwise I have just hosted a few small gatherings with a friend or family member. I can only imagine how busy a prince must be during this season,” Melchior explained. He was focused on not looking at his feet and not tripping on the stairs so wasn't looking at Hildebrand as he spoke. Only once they reached the bottom could he glance over and see the devastating sadness clinging to the prince.

“I was invited to take tea with Letizia and Rozemyne,” was all he managed to say.

Melchior felt awful. He was going on and on about his abundant social life and even the tea parties he’d had but hadn't invited Hildebrand too. He glanced toward Zargerecht who gave him a sharp look. It still wasn't appropriate to invite royalty to a gathering even if Rozemyne could. It seemed to be true what she said about him having no one to be friends with without siblings of a similar status.

Melchior watched in awe as the doors were opened once again. He felt bad that Lady Margarethe was missing the display and wondered if he might have stalled a bit on her behalf. In the end, all he could do was guide Isolde to a chair and lead Prince Hildebrand into the archive.

The prince recovered quickly from his dour mood and went right to work setting up their writing desks. He again chose two side by side and remembered to use a proper knife to cut the quills. Melchior took his seat and, recalling Isolde's warning that some scholars could read lips and that she was one of them, he hid a bit behind the desk.

“Your highness, I did think of you when planning my Gewinnen gathering with Lord Leibshitze. My attendant informed me that it would be arrogant to extend an invitation to royalty. I’m certain there are many who wish to socialize with you but are similarly unable to make overtures.”

Hildebrand’s hands froze. As Melchior spoke, he was reminded that Author or Eglantine had once said something to that effect years before. He was able to attend the Bookworm Tea regardless so it hadn't seemed like important information at the time.

“Did your attendants not inform you? Did you never communicate your woe?” Melchior asked. Had their places been reversed, Zargerecht would have informed him before he expressed an inkling of desire to socialize let alone wait until he tearfully complained about receiving no invitations.

“I could not tell them something like that,” Hildebrand replied. “It is something I should have known anyway.” There really wasn't much time left before the end of the term but Melchior felt bad leaving it just at that. Before he could offer though, Hildebrand added “You need not plan an event to host me. I know it is a harrowing ordeal to welcome a royal and there isn't much time left before the Interdutchy Tournament. It is enough that you visit me here.” He was beginning to notice the look in Melchior's eye that predicted an offer of assistance. Rozemyne had also described her youngest brother as helpful in the extreme. Hildebrand was already taking advantage of his kind nature to force him into service. Even if he couldn't bring himself to give that up, he wouldn't further impose.

“Next year then,” Melchior promised and took the offered quill. Hildebrand felt a warmth spread through him. Even though it was an entire year away he was already filled with anticipation. Should they continue chatting, no work would get done so Melchior turned his attention to the tablet he’d been working on before.

Margarethe eventually entered the antechamber with a single retainer. It was a younger boy who hadn't been accompanying her before. He looked rather put upon to be carrying all her parchment. Once she took it herself he stood near the wall like a guard knight. Hildebrand was doing a good job of not being distracted by his neighbor so he noticed right away and got up to welcome her.

Schwartz remained inside. “How close am I to becoming the Zent?” Melchior asked out of curiosity.

“Not enough elements, Not enough prayer,” replied the shumil. That felt entirely accurate. Melchior had no desire to be the Zent so he had no strong feelings about his lack of qualifications.

“Welcome to the Archduke's Archive,” Hildebrand said after following Margarethe inside. Melchior gave a welcoming smile then went back to his work.

“Thank you kindly, your highness,” she said and stood stunned to the floor. “There are so many rituals to choose from.”

“Not every slate holds a ritual but there are still a lot. Do you know what sort of ritual you would like to research? You can also ask Schwartz to bring one at random,” Hildebrand explained. He also guided her to a stand across from them and encouraged her to set down her supplies.

“I fear I will have to select one at random even if it won't be terribly useful.”

“Losrenger is a fairly hot duchy so perhaps the ritual for cooling hot weather would be of use,” Melchior offered.

Hildebrand brightened as well. “Oh yes. No one else has chosen it yet and it contains a magic circle making it shorter than some others.”

She glanced back and forth between them. It was strange to receive such assistance from one of the greater duchies and a prince. Her anxiety began to fade. She'd assumed she would have to struggle on her own since none of her retainers could follow. “From the depths of the sea to the peak of the mountains my thanks for your generous assistance could not be eclipsed. I will attempt to transcribe the ritual you suggest. Do I just call Schwartz by name? Is there a spell?”

“Schwartz, will you assist Lady Margarethe,” Hildebrand called.

The shumil hopped over and stood next to her. “Ready to assist. How may I help,” it said.

She blushed and held her cheeks in her hands. “I would like the slate for the ritual to calm hot weather, please and thank you.” Schwartz hopped away and returned with a tablet. She took it and tested its weight before carefully resting it next to her parchment. “Stylo,” she chanted. Melchior noticed that her summoned pen was very similar to all those used by everyone else. He also realized that while he’d designed weapons and schtappes, he’d neglected the most commonly used tools. He unhooked his diptych and made a careful note to expand his range of individualized implements.

Holding his wax tablets reminded him of his gift to Letizia. She hadn't gotten a chance to actually use it even if she insisted she was happy to see Rozemyne so delighted, he thought she must be happier with a gift she could keep. Seeing Schwartz reminded him of the magic tool sitting in her lap. She dearly loved the library shumils. Perhaps portraits of them would make a good gift.

As much as he wanted to begin right away, he was here to do actual work. Margarethe began to slowly transcribe while he and Hildebrand hurried through their tablets. She glanced at him in surprise when he handed off his previous slate and accepted a new one.

“You are so quick,” she observed.

“I only had the second half of that one to finish,” Melchior replied.

“Still, to think you completed even half so quickly,” she insisted. “Can you read them as well?” He nodded. “Then you could perform a translation?” He narrowed his eyes but still nodded. She fidgeted for a moment as she gathered her courage. “I fear there is no one in my dormitory capable of assisting with translation and it would take even our scholars in Losrenger much time to complete it. I know it is most uncouth to even suggest, but I am so desperate. I cannot fail the Archduke Candidates Course. Might I hire you or, if there is anyone in your duchy who could complete such work, would you introduce me to them.”

Melchior blinked. It really was unheard of to hire an Archduke Candidate from another duchy to perform scholarly work. Had she been from one of the top four, he might have been forgiven for thinking it was an intimidation tactic. He wasn't even sure how much he should charge for something like that. It absolutely would not be inexpensive.

However, she looked genuinely upset. He knew that noble’s could be highly skilled at faking their emotions but even faced with the possibility that she was executing an elaborate scheme, he felt he couldn't doubt her. Of course, he could ask if there were other scholars capable of doing these translations but if Wilfried couldn't find anyone to help him, Melchior suspected no such scholar existed. “You may send your scholars to discuss compensation. I will make inquiries around Ehrenfest dormitory. It will be much more cost effective to hire a scholar if you can.”

She looked as though she were just freed from schtappe sealing bracelets. “I assure you, you have never known true gratitude before today. Thank you.” She went back to slowly writing down the text.

Prince Hildebrand looked at Melchior. It was proving to be absolutely true that he was easy to take advantage of. If other sixth years found out about his skill and willingness to work, he would have no peace for the rest of his tenure at the Royal Academy.

“You are being most generous, Lord Melchior. I wonder how you will fit such work into your schedule. If you get any more offers you will have to begin turning them away,” Hildebrand mused.

Melchior looked confused. He was going to say that he actually had a great deal of free time and could complete these short translations in a little over a bell if the transcription was neat. However, the look on Hildebrand’s face said he was up to something. Melchior wasn't sure what manner of scheme he was being pulled into but he kept his peace.

“You need not worry, Lord Melchior. I will mark this agreement with the seal of Verbergan. My scholars will be very discreet,” Margarethe promised.

“Thank you,” Melchior replied. He was glad no one else would pester him for last minute translations and a bit surprised that Hildebrand would think to protect his free time. Melchior wondered whether the prince just didn't want his only assistant stolen.

They worked for a little while in companionable silence. Melchior stood up a couple of times to stretch his legs while Margarethe maintained a focused scowl as she worked diligently. Hildebrand was doing a much better job of ignoring the distraction and thus working faster than before. This time, Melchior noticed Weiss receive the message before Schwartz could surprise everyone by declaring, “Tea is ready.”

Only Melchior’s retainers seemed to have come prepared so he once again invited his fellow copyists. “Your highness, Lady Margarethe, would you care to join me. I intend to take a brief respite.”

“Thank you kindly, Lord Melchior. I would be delighted.”

“That would be lovely. I will join you,” Hildebrand said and held out his hand to receive Melchior’s quill. After sealing their ink and ensuring their papers would be alright, the three exited the archive.

Kolteruze totally ignored the agreement not to bring snacks. Perhaps because Margarethe was present he’d brought sweets this time in addition to toasted nuts. Margarethe’s one retainer was not an attendant so Zargerecht served both her and his own lord. Melchior was sure that at least one more of Hildebrand’s retainers was an attendant. The young man waited to be instructed by the prince before taking Zargerecht’s place in service of Margarethe.

“This is so refreshing. Your attendant is very skilled at brewing tea,” she complimented. Melchior smiled and took the opportunity to talk about how skilled Zargerecht was at nearly everything. “You were most fortunate to receive such a fine attendant from your mother. Good help can be ever so hard to find.” Melchior continued to beam while he nodded in agreement.

“I am always delighted to try new flavors of pound cake. What has been added to this one?” Hildebrand asked.

Melchior had to look to Kolteruze for an answer. He could detect acidity and honey but not anything more specific.

“This pound cake was prepared with honey, apfelsige, and Lord Melchior’s favorite tea,” Kolteruze explained then excused himself.

“Mitfair blossoms have such a delicate flavor though I think they should be missed if excluded from this preparation,” Margarethe observed.

Hildebrand nodded while partaking more enthusiastically in the toasted nuts. He seemed sad once his plate was clear of them but the archive was calling them back to work.

Margarethe elegantly patted her mouth with a handkerchief as she offered her appreciation. “Thank you for the timely refreshment, Lord Melchior.”

“You must warn me next time you intend to come so I can provide the tea,” Hildebrand said. Kolteruze struggled not to look visibly disappointed in his Sovereignty peers. He and Zargerecht shared a smile that said the prince shouldn't have to ask for tea for his guests when his attendants would have a whole bell to prepare an extra serving. They weren't even obligated to bring enough for Melchior's retinue even though Kolteruze always brought enough for everyone one present. He even gave a portion to those upstairs who took their tea and snack in Professor Solange's office.

Their work continued after Hildebrand sharpened the quills again. He was only caught staring one good time over the session and Melchior was kind enough not to give more than a sharp look. Once Margarethe was finished drawing the magic circle at the bottom of her slate, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“I feared I would not manage it. Learning ancient script was a trial for me.”

“It was hard for me as well but I had much motivation to improve quickly,” Hildebrand replied.

“Why ever did you need to push yourself so hard?” Margarethe asked with a practiced look of worry.

“We were searching for the Grutrissheit,” he replied matter of factly.

Her eyes grew wide and she lost all proformative expression. “That is indeed strong motivation.” She gathered her parchment. “I pray that you rest well in the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves the threads of our fates together once again.”

“May our threads be woven together,” Melchior replied.

She bowed and exited. Her guard took her papers and followed her up the stairs. He looked happier after receiving cake and tea.

Only a little bit later, Zargerecht gave him the signal that dinner was approaching. Kolteruze, however, signaled that he had more time. “Do you know the time, Schwartz?” Melchior asked.

“It is one quarter bell before sixth bell,” Schwartz replied. Melchior had to wonder how the shumils kept time. With one whole quarter bell remaining, it was clear that Zargerecht was attempting to save him from being escorted back to his dormitory by Prince Hildebrand. He glanced at the prince who looked back at him. Talk of the time had naturally drawn his attention. Melchior was nearly finished with his tablet so he wrote out the last few lines before saying his goodbyes.

“Thank you once again for your assistance and for bringing tea,” Hildebrand said. He put the quill and the transcription away along with his own tools. Despite Melchior trying to leave early, it seemed that Prince Hildebrand was going to walk him out anyway. With the folder in hand they exited the archive. There was still time for Melchior to retreat since Hildebrand had to wait for the librarians to close the doors.

Hildebrand instructed one of his scholars to go fetch the professors then stood next to Melchior with his folder still in hand. It was peculiar that no one came to take it.

“It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today's threads with exceptional grace and speed,” Melchior said. He offered a hand to Isolde who gracefully stood and took his arm. “I must return to the dormitory. We would not wish to delay you so I will go ahead.”

Prince Hildebrand looked withered but Melchior held his ground. It was an excellent excuse that Isolde was so obviously unwell even if that meant she shouldn't have come in the first place. Zargerecht and Kolteruze were already carrying away the tea service and his guards had assembled around him. He gave a slight bow and slowly escaped before those adorably sad eyes could convince him to stay.

The librarians gave way to his retinue. He offered them farewell before sending Pepin and the cart ahead with Kolteruze. Maybe because he felt guilty or just to reinforce how sick Isolde supposedly was, he walked through the halls quickly and without offering any welcoming smiles. It was not in his nature to be actively rude so he still gave some curt nods and rushed greetings.

There was still a bit of time before dinner, so Melchior called Flautzeal to his room and informed him of the deal soon to be struck.

“You agreed to do crest work for another duchy's Archduke Candidate?” Zargerecht asked in what should have been disbelief. Unfortunately, this was precisely the sort of thing his lord would agree to.

“She seemed to be struggling to find someone able to do the translation given the time remaining before final exams,” Melchior explained.

Flautzeal remained unconvinced. “One wonders why she waited so long when the duchies were informed of the new requirements last year. She's had all term to secure assistance,” he complained.

“There are so many scholars looking for crest work as well,” Zargerecht added then sighed. “Now that you have agreed, you must see it through.”

“I will inquire as to who else in Ehrenfest is able to do this work. Do you know anyone?” Flautzeal asked.

Melchior took a moment to think. Just because Wilfried was struggling to find someone didn't mean they didn't exist. There was also the possibility that he was trying to save money. He could think of only one person with both the skills and the ability to rebuff Wilfried's requests. “We might ask Lady Philine. She might not be in need of more work since she is leading the scholars this year.”

“Lady Philine does have much to do in managing the scholars,” Flautzeal sighed.

This sounded like a charged phrase to Melchior. “What do you mean, Flautzeal? You may speak plainly.”

Flautzeal pressed his hands together and leaned in. “There are certain archscholars and medacholars who are unhappy with following a layscholar no matter how great her renowned nor how many proofs exist of her exemplary quality. Were her position not official they could take advantage of her skills without losing face. As it is, her appointment, no matter how well deserved, is seen as condemnation of their own skills.”

“Certain archscholars?” Melchior repeated. He thought back to Isolde's comments from the beginning of the term. “You do not mean Isolde!”

Flautzeal shook his head. “No matter her personal feelings, you have charged her to support Lady Philine. She will not defy your orders which puts her in conflict with her peers.”

This was the first Melchior was hearing of any of this. “Are you also in conflict with the medscholars?”

“No. I am not a traditional scholar nor have I begun the scholars course. I’m not really included in their preparations for the Interduchy Tournament,” Flautzeal replied.

“Is Charlotte aware of this?” Melchior asked. Charlotte was the one who made the appointment in the first place. She wouldn't just allow Philine to struggle on her own if she was aware.

“I can assume but perhaps we should not. Either way, she can only issue directives. She cannot be present at every meeting of the scholars to mediate.” Flautzeal paused. He’d been encouraged to speak plainly but he couldn't just say Wilfried's scholars were the problem. “And if the most vocal detractors are in a sheltered position, she cannot punish them for their dissent either.”

Melchior was filled with wide-eyed shock. Those in a sheltered position could only be his siblings retainers. Charlotte officially made the appointment, so her scholars couldn't directly defy their lady. If Wilfried's scholars were the problem, it was inconceivable that he hadn't chastised them. He knew better than anyone how skilled Lady Philine was and how fortunate Ehrenfest was to have her assistance. Charlotte would have consulted him about the appointment so there was no way he didn't support it. “We must inform him of this issue. I do not doubt it will be cleared up immediately,” Melchior declared. Flautzeal withheld his comment that he doubted that very much even as he looked over Melchior's note. If he handed it to Wilfried's scholars like he normally would, he knew it would be delayed indefinitely if not destroyed.

“Why don't you seal it, Lord Melchior. It is always a delight to break a seal, even on a casual missive between siblings,” he said. Zargerecht shared a glance with him and didn't argue that a seal would be too much. If Wilfried assumed it was more important than it was he would just read it sooner, after all.

Melchior agreed readily and pulled out his wax sealing kit. He chose a pretty seal and warmed the wax over a candle. Flautzeal was amazed that he didn't question the strange advice even a little. He knew his lord to be kind and had heard Isolde describe him as guileless before Melchior’s own sister but he didn't understand how true that was until this moment.

Flautzeal took the sealed note and followed Melchior down to dinner. During their meal, Melchior and Sigsnyr discussed the Archduke's Archive now that the knight had visited. He also had choice words for Hildebrand's attendants and said that he could be called upon to serve if that particular situation arose again. He looked hopeful that it would happen again.

“You want to do attendant work as well as study the magic tools?” Melchior asked.

“Yes. I would like to apply my new knowledge if I can.”

“I will try to find opportunities,” Melchior promised. He wasn't sure when or if Zargerecht would allow it but it couldn't hurt to ask.

After dinner was their normal meeting. Isolde was allowed to wax poetic about the wonders of the archive for a few minutes before Kolteruze cut her off to give his report about the upcoming Gewinnen gathering with Wilfried. Wilfried would be wearing his uniform and was bringing cake as well. “We shall move over to cookies then,” he assured Zargerecht.

Melchior praised him for his information gathering and selected his knights for the event. This would also be the first time Flautzeal would attend as his scholar. Isolde would be going to obtain her Divine Will.

“Be sure not to say anything that should be kept secret. We will have to do our planning tonight. Why must the class be tomorrow?” she wailed.

Once everything else was covered, Melchior released his other retainers. Zargerecht left to prepare for bedtime so Pepin stayed to listen to the discussion along with Flautzeal.

It was difficult to predict what might be asked so they focused on what to avoid and what topics Melchior could broach himself. Wilfried had conspicuously failed to communicate who would be there but they knew it was being hosted by Ortwin of Kostenlos. Melchior could ask about his research and their revitalization efforts. He was free to talk about how Ehrenfest was managing its temple’s mana crisis but he shouldn't speak about Better Compression and You. Since most of Wilfried's friends were in his year, Melchior could ask about the rituals they’d chosen to study.

Melchior retired feeling confident while Isolde retired feeling devastated. “Record every word, Flautzeal. Every word,” she charged.

Chapter Text

Meeting Older Students

Melchior rose early, as he normally did, and ran with his knights. He was then washed and dressed in his uniform and walked down to breakfast.

Isolde wasn't looking quite as ill but she could not contain her disappointment at missing the Gewinnen gathering. “Maybe I shouldn't have waited or should wait even longer,” she grumbled.

“If you delay any more, you will miss the tea with Charlotte,” Sigsnyr said.

“You will once again have classes to attend,” Zipporah added.

Isolde squeaked as she held in her rage and disappointment. Missing the tea with Charlotte and her friends was not an option. She would surely perish. “I will have to practice using my schtappe so I can pass on the very first days,” she declared.

“I’m sure you'll be able to pass quickly. Rozemyne and Uncle passed on their first days. Surely there have been other people as well,” Melchior encouraged. Nikolaus and Kolteruze shook their heads. “Surely,” Melchior insisted. The rest of his retainers joined in the head shaking. “Wilfried, it is uncommon but not unheard of to pass schtappe creation on the first day, correct,” he called.

Wilfried paused his conversation and took a moment to turn over the question. “If memory serves, only Rozemyne and Uncle have done so in the last twenty years,” he said with a smile.

Isolde groaned. “We will help you. It only took me three weeks,” Nikolaus explained.

She looked at him. Not only did he have ample practice controlling his mana from his work as a blue priest, he also shared a blood line with the Archduke. They really couldn't be compared.

“You need only grasp the basics. Adding fancy details to your summoned implements can be done at your leisure after that,” Zipporah said.

“But Melchior’s design is so pretty. I do not wish to use anything else,” Isolde replied.

Melchior was shocked. He was sure she had no strong feelings on the subject. “Do you truly like it?”

She nodded. Zipporah sighed. “It is impossibly complex. Memorizing the pattern will take ages and make it difficult to summon quickly.”

“Sigsnyr’s schtappe is very intricate,” Pepin noted.

“He has been developing it for years and he frequently summons it in a new or incorrect shape,” Zipporah explained.

“It is never incorrect only unexpected,” Sigsnyr countered. “I haven't seen this new design yet. What is it like?”

Zipporah interjected before Isolde could explain. “We do not have time to talk about it now. If Isolde gives her permission, I can show you the drawing later. She cannot make use of it until she absorbs her Divine Will.” She punctuated this last sentence with a sharp smile directed toward Isolde's indignation. It seemed the young scholar didn't want to be parted from her drawing.

Sigsnyr had his own classes to attend and excused himself to get changed. Isolde was all but dragged crying out the door and to Farthest Hall by Zipporah. One of Melchior's knights would go to retrieve her after to ensure no one touched her in the halls.

The rest of his retinue helped pack his Gewinnen board for transport. The loyal users wished him good luck, even as they lamented not being able to play that morning. Flautzeal requested many sheets of paper on which to record the afternoon. Pepin helped him carry them as well as ink for the occasion. Zargerecht questioned why wooden boards wouldn't be sufficient but Flautzeal insisted they would be too cumbersome for the volume of notes he would need to take. Melchior was also saddened by the paper expenditure but it was at least drawn from the stack Rozemyne had given.

Melchior and his retainer's waited by the exit to the central building for Wilfried. He struggled not to bounce on his toes or carve a trench in the ivory floor. It was the first tea party with his brother and he wanted to make a good impression. The last thing he wanted was to seem too young to properly socialize with Wilfried's friends.

Wilfried's attendants appeared first. They carried the basket with Wilfried's cakes and his pieces and added them to the cart. “Is Wilfried not bringing his board?” Melchior asked once it was clear this was all they had to add.

“Lord Ortwin requested that Ehrenfest bring one board between you,” replied Isidore.

Melchior felt annoyed. If they only needed one board, he could have left his in the common room.

“Your scholar isn't attending today?” Isidore asked.

“She is retrieving her Divine Will.”

“So late,” the young man mused. “I thought her more capable than this.”

Melchior suddenly felt a bit warm. “She wished to secure the best possible schtappe and thus dedicated herself to prayer and compression. It is because of her proven intelligence that she is able to delay so late with confidence of finishing her course,” he said.

Isidore looked taken aback. He glanced at Zargerecht who showed nothing through his manner or countenance. Before any further discussion or insulting could be done, Wilfried arrived with a toss of his cape. “Are you ready for battle, brother,” he called loudly.

Melchior forgot his previous annoyance and clenched his fist in determination. “We shall crush our enemies and achieve victory!” he declared.

“Then let us go. The field of conquest awaits.”

Since Pepin was assisting Flautzeal, Melchior sent Kolteruze ahead with the cart. Wilfried seemed a bit confused why they should follow behind their retainers until the first person met them in the halls. Melchior spoke with several people and introduced his brother. Wilfried's name was well circulated but few people had ever spoken to him. Wilfried’s annoyance began to leak through his noble smile as they spoke with the group of third year girls who often chatted by a pillar near the auditorium.

“May Melchior’s older brother be blessed,” they intoned much to Wilfried's dismay. The boys spoke briefly about their upcoming gathering then took their leave. They didn't travel ten steps before another boy met Melchior’s smile and came over to say hello. After four such interactions kept them from progressing all the way across the foyer before the auditorium, Wilfried stopped and fixed Melchior with an intense smile.

“Is it always like this when you travel through the halls?”

“Yes. That is why I sent the cart ahead and was prepared to leave so early. It always takes me some time just to walk to the library,” Melchior explained. He smiled at some students walking by but the look on Wilfried's face told them to keep walking.

“You need not entertain all these people, even mednobles as well.” Wilfried shook his head but didn't allow his noble smile to falter. “Let me show you how it is done. Smile and look straight ahead. We are going now," Wilfried instructed.

Melchior did as requested. He only curtly acknowledged the polite greetings of students he’d grown familiar with. As he walked with Wilfried, no one else made an effort to make conversation. They came to a tea party room near the one Melchior had used to host Leibshitze. It was larger by half.

Inside, the Gewinnen boards were already arranged and their desserts had been moved to the side table. Boys in three colors of capes rose to greet them. They were Ortwin and the sixth years from Lindenthal and Gausbuttel as well as a younger boy also from Lindenthal. The older boys greeted each other casually.

“You’ve finally arrived. I do apologize for bringing you to the abode of Verfuhremeer¹⁴. The archnoble girls entreated me with tears in their eyes to use my tea party room for some fashion symposium. Half of Yurgenschmidt must be there now fawning over embroidery and such,” Ortwin opened grandly.

“The other half gathered to waylay our journey through the halls,” Wilfried said with a smirk. He gestured to Melchior. “I fear Dregarnuhr has not yet ordained a proper meeting between you and my dear little brother. We had so little time at the Fellowship Gathering.”

“I’m sure you spent those precious minutes discussing the meeting of the breezes¹⁵,” Konradin of Gausbuttel called from his seat. He was already beginning a game against Dahvidh’s younger brother, Pollmarch.

“It is better than cavorting with the Spring goddesses¹⁶. Ortwin and I always pass the knowledge of ages¹⁷ between us,” Wilfried countered. He then turned to Dahvidh. “Let us see how you’ve progressed since our last bout.”

“Did you not promise to renew our rivalry, Wilfried. Do not tell me you would seek the wild’s embrace¹⁸.” Ortwin said.

Wilfried flashed him a devious smile. “We are much nearer neighbors now. We might renew our conflict at any time but Erwachlehren does not often bless us with such an opportunity to teach,” he said with a tip of his head towards Melchior. Ortwin narrowed his eyes at Melchior who smiled kindly in return.

“I would be most honored to experience your tutelage, Lord Ortwin,” he said, which only earned him more wariness.

“Then I shall instruct,” Ortwin replied, eventually. He gestured to his own board and Kolteruze brought over Melchior’s pieces. They checked each other's collections for lingering mana then selected two stones. The goal was to play at least two games so a shorter version of the game was desirable. Melchior looked at the small army of retainers collected to serve six people and wondered whether Wilfried should have brought his board anyway. Surely other people would like to play too.

Ortwin selected a very aggressive spread of troops while Melchior chose his usual balanced selection. He was amazed by how similar Ortwin and Wilfried’s play style was. Their games must have been exciting and vicious. “Have you completed your ritual research, Lord Ortwin,” Melchior began after they’d decided on a play order and made a few opening moves. Kolteruze brought over tea and snacks. Melchior took the first bite of his cookies to prove they weren’t poisoned.

“Oh, many weeks ago. Aub Kostenlos charged me to gain more understanding about Spring Prayer.” He began to describe a process with which Melchior was very familiar. This led into a broader discussion on the use of the chalices and the liquid mana itself. Ortwin seemed to be planning to see what effects it had on container cultivated plants. Since Melchior also had an interest in plants he listened without interrupting. “Wilfried tells me, he and Charlotte conducted Spring Prayer on behalf of Rozemyne for two years,” he promptly pivoted the conversation.

Melchior was surprised to suddenly be questioned but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t talk about. “My elder siblings continue to assist with filling our central district. We found the mana offered by Archduke Candidates to produce superior harvests,” he explained. Despite being Wilfried’s closest friend at the Royal Academy, this seemed to be new information for Ortwin.

“Do you also perform this duty?”

“I am the High Bishop. I perform many religious rituals in addition to Spring Prayer,” Melchior replied and moved a piece to capture one of Ortwin’s. He’d initially assumed he would be just as aggressive as Wilfried but his play was just a bit easier to predict. He was merciless but still treated his pieces as one might real troops. If he did not need to sacrifice a piece he would choose to delay his advance though he was still more than willing to throw them into danger.

“Rozemyne was also High Bishop of Ehrenfest. She became Aub of her own duchy. Do you intend to follow in her legacy?” Ortwin asked. Melchior had to regard him again. How could he know so little about Ehrenfest and Wilfried’s siblings?

“I intend to support Charlotte,” Melchior declared flatly. He felt he could leave no room for misinterpretations.

“Lady Charlotte seems to be a candidate of great quality. I admit that Kostenlos wonders if Liebeskhilfe might weave us into her threads of fate¹⁹.” Melchior felt he heard one of Isolde’s gasps. Ortwin didn’t behave as though it were a bold thing to say at all.

With great restraint, Melchior maintained his smile. This was Wilfried’s friend. He could be given leave to be bolder than most. “I fear your rafel would be returned. Unless you seek the shadow of the lion²⁰,” Melchior replied. He attempted to mimic Ortwin’s relaxed tone.

It was Ortwin’s turn to look scandalized. He hid it behind a practiced smile but it was clear he hadn’t expected such a clear rejection. Melchior took another piece. “If it is as you say, then I shall join those watching from the side. I am committed to the people of Kostenlos.”

“They are, no doubt, honored by your loyalty,” Melchior replied. He stole a glance at Wilfried but his brother looked to be deeply focused on his game.

“Though we shall not be brothers, unless you seek the shadow of the badger, we might still collaborate on research. Drewanchel once did joint research on your feapapers. As we are nearer neighbors now, we could do more comprehensive exchanging of techniques,” Ortwin ventured.

Melchior felt even more amazed. Why would Wilfried’s friend ask Melchior about learning to make paper? Had he predicted that Mechior knew how while Wilfried didn’t or was he probing all three Ehrenfest Archduke Candidates to get one to agree to an exchange of technologies? He pretended to deeply contemplate the board to give himself time to think. It wasn’t something for him to decide anyway. “It is a central industry in Ehrenfest. I fear such a question must be discussed between Aubs.” He tried to add a sad looking smile for emphasis as he stole Ortwin’s treasure piece.

The older candidate stared at him in disbelief. He went over the last few moves using hand motions while muttering. “Shall we replay the game, Lord Ortwin. I fear I was too focused and missed many of your lessons,” Melchior offered. He tried not to sound terribly smug but after losing so easily to Leibshitze, it felt like vindication to defeat an Archduke Candidate formally of a greater duchy. Ortwin nodded without speaking so Melchior reached out and chanted the spell. The pieces all played their game in reverse. “How are you doing that?” Ortwin asked as he bent down to look at Melchior hand where it interacted with a faestone.

“I was taught this spell by Lord Leibshitze of Dunkelfelger only a few weeks ago. It has been a great boon to my play to review games in such detail,” Melchior said. “I will show you once we have finished. Then we may watch again.”

Ortwin seemed like he didn’t want to watch himself lose a second time but he calmly watched the match all the same. At a few moments he expressed greater interest so Melchior paused the replay for him to look. “I see, this is where you took that lancer. That I did not realize at the time how pivotal he was to our formation is unforgivable,” he muttered. Once they finished this post mortem, Melchior began teaching Ortwin how to manipulate the board. “Do all Gewinnen boards do this?” he asked. They were playing on his own board so he was doubly surprised.

“I have yet to find one that does not. Perhaps the magic circles are all the same but the functionality has been forgotten,” Melchior ventured.

Wilfried came over in the middle of their lesson and leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Did Erwachlehren bless you, Lord Ortwin?”

“Is that what you meant?” Ortwin sneered. “As it happens, I have gained greater knowledge than you anticipated.” He demonstrated his new spell while Melchior complimented how quickly he’d picked it up.

Wilfried was similarly dumbstruck. “I’ve never seen that occur before. Did you find some ancient text in the archive, Melchior?”

Melchior shook his head. “Lord Leibshitze of Dunkelfelger taught me. He is the most skilled player I’ve yet faced.”

“I don’t know that name. Is he a first year?” Wilfried asked while he bent to watch Ortwin fiddle with the faestone.

“He is an archnoble,” Melchior said with a nod. There really wouldn’t be an opportunity for Wilfried to meet a random first year archnoble so he didn't seem annoyed about not having met the boy. “Shall we watch your game, Brother?” Melchior asked.

“Oh it was nothing to see,” Dahvidh called. It seemed he’d lost.

“Wilfried’s games are always exciting. He plays such an aggressive game,” Melchior insisted. He was curious how other people played against such tactics.

“Wilfried playing an aggressive game? I shall see every corner of the wall²¹ before such a thing occurs,” Ortwin retorted. He looked honestly surprised. The others gathered around Wilfried’s table to watch it and the new spell in action. Melchior saw a version of play he’d never seen Wilfried employ. It was much more conservative and focused on creating stable formations for attack and defense. For such a long time, Melchior found the difference between how Wilfried commanded real people and how he played Gewinnen uncomfortably dissonant. This style of play was much closer to his expectation. He looked at Wilfried who shared a conspiratorial smile.

“We will never play a second round at this rate,” Konradin said. He left a sad looking Pollmarch examining the remnants of their game. “If you truly wish to hear Erwachlehren’s whispers, then you should play with me, Lord Melchior.” He walked over to Ortwin’s former place and sat down. “You can play Wilfried any time, after all.”

“I would be delighted, Lord Konradin. Let us have a match,” Melchior replied and took his original seat. Konradin looked at him a bit questioningly but didn’t seem wary in the same way. Ortwin looked annoyed to be tossed away from his own board but he sat across from Dahvidh without grumbling.

Melchior checked Konradin’s pieces and they began setting up a two stone game. “I expect this to be a refreshing challenge though I wonder if, like most younger boys, you would be at a disadvantage with more stones,” Konradin said.

Ortwin heard this comment and shot a sharp look at Wilfried. “It this why you suggested we attempt to fit in more games?” he accused. Wilfried only smiled and played with a piece.

Konradin laughed and began playing in earnest. He and Melchior traded moves for a little while before he spoke again. “Did I hear that you have been spending time in the Archduke’s Archive?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ve been doing some transcriptions,” Melchior replied. He thought better of mentioning that he was helping Prince Hildebrand.

“You are only in your first year. Even if they alter the curriculum again, you are unlikely to be called to prove your knowledge of ancient script anytime soon.”

“It is simply that I enjoy it,” Melchior said. “I have long had a fascination with stories of the gods.”

“I see. Are you familiar with the story of the Winter goddesses entreating Flutrane to wash away the snow?” Konradin asked. He made no effort to hide his interest.

“I believe you are referring to the Spring Summoning ritual. I know only what has been described to me though I intend to visit Haldenzel, the province which preserved the ancient rite in Ehrenfest, this spring to see it for myself,” Melchior said. “I know that it requires a special stage and is performed by women,” he added.

“That is fascinating to know. Gausbuttel also has some provinces more aggrieved by Ewigeliebe than most. I do not know if we have the stage you speak of.”

“There must be one in each province. Any more precise details would need to be purchased from Haldenzel and Aub Ehrenfest. The price for knowledge shared between provinces is a small compensation for the generations of careful preservation undertaken by the people of Haldenzel. I do not imagine we would be merciless to those outside our duchy. As those visited by the Lord of Winter, we have much empathy for those who endure his wrath,” Melchior said and gave Konradin an encouraging smile. He felt he’d skillfully advertised Ehrenfest's knowledge without seeming to be hoarding it or implying it would be freely given. Charlotte had charged him not to give away secrets for free after all.

“You can expect an offer from Gausbuttel at the Archdukes Conference. In fact, I am sure our Aub will have ready gold for quality information,” Konradin replied. Melchior glanced toward Flautzeal. He would need to remember to write home so Sylvester and the scholars could prepare the information to sell.

Their conversation waned as their game grew more serious. Melchior tried desperately to gain ground but found he was only able to forestall the inevitable. He bravely fought on, hoping Konradin would make a mistake until the very moment his last piece fell and his treasure was taken.

“You did not cow even under so much pressure. I felt every moment like my mind could not slip. Well played, Lord Melchior,” Konradin said as he reached out to attempt to replay their match. Melchior pulled himself out of his disappointment to show him the proper way then watched his dogged struggle play on again. It was amazing. He couldn't find any obvious errors in his own play but he had still lost. Even carefully considering Konradin's moves didn't illuminate anything.

“You have been most generous with your praise, Lord Konradin. I find myself unable to understand how I was defeated. I will apply myself to more diligent study,” Melchior admitted.

“I hope to one day witness your strength,” Konradin said with a smile. They rose and went to watch the other games only to find they were the last to finish.

“Its must have been hard fought,” Ortwin said from over the rim of his tea cup. “Were you similarly visited by Erwachlerhen?”

“Does every game not bless us with his lessons?” Konradin countered with a confident smirk. Ortwin looked annoyed but didn't rebut.

“Thank you ever so much for inviting me, Lord Ortwin. I have enjoyed myself very much,” Melchior said with a hand over his heart. He’d been too focused to eat much and it was nearing lunch time so he didn't want to linger too much longer. He gave a pregnant glance toward Wilfried who seemed equally interested in returning to the dormitory. Kolteruze led their attendants in collecting the pieces and left over desserts.

“Long has the Goddess of Light lingered on the horizon of this day²². It saddens me that we will have fewer chances to meet like this in future,” Wilfried said. He moved to stand near Melchior.

“Has Dregarnuhr woven today's threads with such grace and speed²³? Next time you must raise your own shield, Lord Wilfried,” Ortwin replied.

“Do not be cross, Lord Ortwin. Have I not proven my skill on a number of occasions? The rivers of Flutrane always flow but only sometimes do they breach their banks. Should Ordoshnelli fly the same paths everytime²⁴?” Wilfried countered.

“When you return from the wild’s embrace, we will see if Flutrane’s grace is so regular,” Ortwin replied.

“I shall take my leave while you two titter under the gazebo²⁵,” Konradin said and began to gather his retinue.

“Next time I will show you what Erwachlerhen can reveal,” Ortwin promised.

“On that fateful day when Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves our threads such that I am indisposed²⁶. As the Goddess of Light rises,” he called as he made his way out the door.

Dahvidh and Pollmarch came over to offer their goodbyes as well. Their attendants hadn't brought a cart and instead chose to carry their Gewinnen board between two knights. “We must play again next year,” Melchior said to Pollmarch. He was two years older than Melchior but he seemed shy in the face of the younger boy.

“May our threads be woven together,” was all he replied before following his brother away.

“I pray that you rest well in the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time weaves the threads of our fate together once again, Lord Ortwin,” Melchior intoned. Kolteruze allowed Wilfried's retainers to take over pushing the cart by standing behind Melchior doing nothing. They didn't notice until they found themselves to be the only ones left in proximity to it. Begrudgingly, one of the apprentices took the handle.

“May our threads be woven tightly together, Lord Melchior,” Ortwin replied. “Our parting shall be brief, Lord Wilfried.”

“As the Goddess rises,” Wilfried said as he led Melchior out into the hall. After the cart was brought up behind, he turned to Melchior. “Let us meet to discuss after lunch. Before then I will be going ahead. Do not let me keep you from greeting your friends,” he teased. With a toss of his cape, he walked away with his retainers.

Melchior waited in surprise for a moment then began walking as well. “He seemed very annoyed to be stopped in the halls,” Pepin observed.

“I suppose he was,” Melchior said. They made their way slowly along. Melchior felt a bit self-conscious now that Wilfried showed him what normal Archduke Candidates did on their way between places. His anxiety was put aside when he saw someone he truly wished to greet.

“Hello, Lord Melchior,” Leibshitze called and split away from his other friends. “Are you returning for lunch?”

It seemed they had moved passed formal greetings all together. “Greetings, Lord Leibshitze. Yes, I was just coming from a Gewinnen gathering with Wilfried’s friends,” Melchior explained.

Leibshitze went over the list of Melchior's friends in his head. He had never mentioned a Wilfried before. “Who is Wilfried?”

“Wilfried is my older brother. Did Sir Heisshitze never mention him? I believe he participated in the duels during their visit.” Leibshitze shook his head. He had no recollection of Wilfried of Ehrenfest. “He challenges Dunkelfelger to treasure stealing ditter every year,” Melchior added.

“I have heard of Lady Rozemyne’s challenges but not Lord Wilfried’s.”

Melchior was shocked. Rozemyne hadn't challenged Dunkelfelger in over three years while Wilfried had fought Hannalore just the year before. Leibshitze wouldn't have even been baptized at the time, yet he heard about those matches. “This year he will renew his rivalry with Lady Hannalore. I believe they will play the day after the Interdutchy Tournament. You should come watch.”

“I have plans to do just that,” Leibshitze said. “Our entire dormitory and most of the Knights Order will be attending.”

“That is a lot of people to watch one small match between students,” Melchior observed.

“In Dunkelfelger, ditter is a sacred thing and our duchy's passion. Treasure Stealing Ditter is so rarely played now. We would not miss it.”

Fourth bell rang. Melchior had stopped in the hall at some point during their conversation. “Before I go, are you hurt this time?” he asked.

Leibshitze looked sheepish. “I am not skilled enough to avoid other’s blades. But it is a small wound, there is no need for you to spend mana,” he insisted. While he spoke Melchior reached out and by the time he'd finished insisting he was already healed. “Thank you, Lord Melchior. I will improve such that you do not need to worry about me,” Leibshitze promised.

“It is no trouble, Lord Leibshitze. Will you not improve faster if you are healthy?” Melchior said. Both Kolteruze and Zargerecht took half steps forward. Students streamed past them in a rush to return for their meal. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today's threads with exceptional grace and speed.”

“I hope our threads are bound tightly together,” Leibshitze replied.

“Leibshitze, that is saying you hope we get married,” Melchior said. He was unable to ignore this particular mistake.

“It does? Is that not what Archduke Candidates always say?”

Melchior shook his head. “The proper reply is ‘may our threads be woven together’ or if you wish to express a desire to remain close, “may our threads be woven tightly together’,” Melchior said with a sigh.

Leibshitze looked pensive. “That is a subtle difference.”

“You are an archnoble. Are you not preparing to socialize with the Archductal family?” Melchior asked. He felt confused that someone so closely related to the Knight Commander would have his etiquette training neglected.

“Not yet. I am the wrong age to serve Lord Lestilaut so there was no great effort to teach me,” he explained.

“Lord Melchior. You will miss the midday meal. You may instruct Lord Leibshitze in proper etiquette at another time,” Zargerecht chided.

“Oh that is right. I must depart. May our threads be woven tightly together,” Melchior said and moved to take his leave.

“I shall seek your instruction another time. May our threads be woven together,” Leibshitze called with a bright smile before dashing into Dunkelfelger’s dormitory.

Wilfried chortled as Melchior rushed in a bit late for lunch. “You must be firm with the children of Yurgenschmidt. Do not let them prevent you from meeting Cuococalura,” he teased.

“I would not allow the efforts of our chefs to be wasted,” Melchior replied. He took his seat next to Sigsnyr who was already there and also, still in his attendant uniform. He’d run out of time to change after escorting Isolde back.

“She wants to chance it just to hear the debrief,” he whispered.

“I am glad you talked her out of it,” Zipporah said.

Isolde's seat remained empty throughout the meal. Melchior had to talk over it to ask Flautzeal about his first time acting as a scholar.

“It is strange to be so close to the conversation. Musicians are normally seated quite far away. I will say that the conversation is interesting. I see why Isolde is so passionate about discourse and battles of wit,” he said.

“I look forward to reading your report. It is interesting to see how different scholars interpret events,” Melchior replied.

“It will take me until tomorrow to translate my notes. I will also need more paper,” Flautzeal said.

Melchior set down his fork to look at the scholar. He’d been given what Melchior thought was a generous amount of paper even for such a long tea party. “How much paper did you use? How much do you need?”

“He took a lot of notes,” Pepin said as though preparing his lord’s heart for the answer.

“I used twelve sheets during the tea party. I predict needing three or four times that for the translation,” Flautzeal said calmly.

“What…” Melchior squeaked. Zargerecht tapped his chair to remind him to control his emotions. “How could you need so much paper? What did you write?” he cried. He tried to keep his voice down so as not to draw Wilfried's attention.

“Isolde charged me to record every word. While that is easily done, it will not be readable by anyone else until I translate it,” Flautzeal explained.

“How is it ‘easily done’ to record every word spoken at a tea party?” Nikolaus asked.

Flautzeal asked his attendant for his notes. He chided the boy for bringing work to the dining table but handed over the bundle of sheets. Melchior looked through it. All twelve sheets were densely covered, front and back, and completely unreadable. “I use a shorthand method derived from my father’s system for recording songs. This says ‘I fear your rafel will be returned’.” He pointed to a string of symbols which was just as unintelligible as everything else but much too short to be that sentence.

“Can you parse only the important bits?” Melchior asked. He’d never received a full transcription of a tea party and wasn't sure he needed something so exhaustive.

“I do not know what should and should not be kept. Isolde draws meaning from seemingly innocuous exchanges. I could not record your farewells but I will write them down after lunch so as not to forget,” he promised.

“Couldn't you just read it back to her and allow her to take her own notes?” Zipporah suggested. Melchior placed his hand in his fist. That was brilliant.

“That could work but, since such a detailed account exists, she and you will inevitably want to review it more closely. When that time comes, for this tea party or one in the future, you will have to call Flautzeal to interpret every time. These sheets are completely useless without him. Even if it takes more paper, a translation wouldn't be,” Sigsnyr argued.

“But he would need 36 sheets of paper,” Melchior groaned.

“If he writes with a mana pen on parchment, we can erase what proves to be unnecessary with mana-dissolver. Then, if it is impossible in the future for Flautzeal to reenact a tea party for you or your scholars, we have a way to get a cheap account of things.”

“I would not want to make such heavy use of mana pens but if you require it, I will see it done. It will take longer to translate though,” Flautzeal conceded.

“Does it take a lot of mana to write?” Melchior asked. He hadn't noticed any great drain during the exams.

“It is more that there is a slight resistance to overcome which proves tiring over time,” Flautzeal replied. He handed his pages back to his attendant.

Melchior hadn't experienced that either. “I didn't know that was a thing. Do I have so much mana that I break through that resistance?”

“Perhaps it is the quality of your pen,” Sigsnyr said. Melchior thought about Flautzeal's implements. They all seemed to be of high quality.

“His mana pen seemed very well made,” Melchior argued.

Sigsnyr shook his head. “I don't doubt that it was finely crafted but the difference in brewing quality and access to materials between a mednoble, even a well off house, and an Archduke Candidate is immense.”

Melchior removed his pen from its pouch. “Would you like to try it?” he asked.

“I couldn't,” Flautzeal replied.

“You love that pen,” Pepin added.

Melchior pushed it into his scholar's hands. If it was easy enough to write with, they would save so much money on paper. “Try it. I know you will not harm it, Flautzeal.”

The apprentice held the starry barreled pen with reverence. He took it and drew a few lines in the air. His eyes glittered as the ink sparked like the night sky. Melchior and his retainers oohed and ahhed. They watched the lines slowly fade. “It is wonderfully easy to write with. The difference is as immense as you say, Sigsnyr.” Flautzeal pressed it back into Melchior's hands. “I still cannot take it.”

“You can do the translation in my room. Then it will remain in my sight,” Melchior declared. Flautzeal nodded. He couldn't refuse what sounded like an order. They spent the rest of their meal talking about the schtappe replacement items and their various surprising uses and how they differed from schtappes.

After lunch, Melchior and Wilfried went to a meeting room with their respective retainers. Only those who attended the Gewinnen gathering were present so both Melchior and Wilfried were missing a scholar. Isolde was absorbing her Divine Will, while Wilfried's scholar was overseeing brewing efforts. In their places were Flautzeal and a third year. Flautzeal looked much calmer to be reporting on his first tea party than Wilfried's scholar. Wilfried eyed his large stack of scribbles from the other end of the table.

“How many notes did you take? Did Konradin tell some incredible story?” he asked.

“My head scholar requested a comprehensive record. Flautzeal never does anything by halves so he was very thorough,” Melchior explained.

“Isolde sounds like a demanding boss,” Wilfried said with a sympathetic look. “So, Lindenthal was just as tedious as he always is but I did learn that Pollmarch has more mana than Dahvidh. I predict a minor struggle for power given their personalities,” he began. “We should decide who to support. If we can maintain good relations we will have better access to intelligence from that side of the country. Now that Ortwin has moved to Kostenlos, we no longer have a good informant.”

Flautzeal added a few notes using Melchior’s diptych. Melchior couldn't stomach using even more paper.

“That is noteworthy,” Melchior replied. He knew from his history studies that transitions of power presented an opportunity to curry favor but hoped for their sakes that Pollmarch and Dahvidh didn't have too bitter a struggle.

Melchior shared the highlights of his conversation with Konradin. He would write a report for Ehrenfest about the ensuing deal and suggest selling their knowledge to other Northern duchies.

“What did Ortwin speak about? He always talks endlessly about himself,” Wilfried said.

Melchior put on a pensive look. “I found it strange that his Goddess of Time weaves so poorly²⁷. He inquired after Charlotte’s engagement plans and about your involvement in Spring Prayer.”

Wilfried scowled. “It is Adolphine who truly covets Charlotte. Ortwin simply does as ordered. We will remember their interest if things take that kind of turn,” he said.

“I dare not say, but Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time will not weave such threads while you and I still wield scissors²⁸,” Melchior replied solemnly. He held Wilfried's eyes but didn't detect the same righteous determination that swelled in his own heart. His older brother always seemed unhappy with Charlotte’s possible suitors. Perhaps he hoped she might marry someone he actually held respect for. It was just a shame that both Ortwin and Charlotte were so deeply tied to their own duchies. For Melchior’s part, he did not want to fail to support Charlotte’s peaceful transition to power. Thoughts of alternatives would not be considered unless they had to be.

Perhaps because he was older, Wilfried had a broader perspective. “It is as you say. Though, remember to prepare provisions for both legs of the journey²⁹,” he counseled. “Was there anything else? What did Ortwin want to know about Spring Prayer?”

“He is planning to research the liquid mana. I also told him about our discovery that the mana of Archduke Candidates provides greater yields compared to standard priests. Do you think he will participate in Kostenlos’s Spring Prayer?” Melchior said.

Wilfried narrowed his eyes, “You told him I still perform religious ceremonies?” he asked.

“Should I not have?”

“No, I suppose it is alright. It was not a great secret. People still don't have a good view of priests but no one will deride an Archduke Candidate for giving their mana to increase crop yields.” Wilfried looked pensive. He glanced between his scholar taking sparse notes and Flautzeal who had nearly imprinted all his wax. “It might be wise to be less forthright about your own vows of fealty.” Nikolaus figited behind Melchior while his lord carefully folded his hands in his lap.

“I will consider it.”

“Well, I’ve ditter to prepare for. Please send your knights to practice more often. The Interduchy Tournament fast approaches,” Wilfried said and took his leave. His scholar glanced at Flautzeal’s notes as he walked by.

Melchior and his retainers spent a little more time in the meeting room. Sigsnyr had a note from Isolde. “I forgot to hand this over. She risked having me touch her to pass it to me so it must be important,” he said. Flautzeal leaned in to read the missive. It was an invitation to plan a tea party from Torsten.

“Why would Torsten want to meet with me? I don't think we’ve properly spoken together,” Melchior wondered aloud. At the Fellowship Gathering, he’d conversed primarily with Charlotte and only said a few polite sentences to Melchior.

“He is interested in marrying Charlotte, no? Perhaps he wants to talk to you about her,” Flautzeal offered.

“Then, shouldn't he talk to Wilfried. Hasn't he been fielding all such requests?” Isolde was not here to answer this question. No one else could say for sure.

“You have shown less hostility than Wilfried. Maybe he hopes to win your support,” Kolteruze suggested.

“In any case, you must discuss this with Charlotte and the Archductal couple before progressing. You cannot make moves without their permission,” Zargerecht warned. “You should also send your… scholar out to gain more information about Lord Torsten and Berschman.”

Melchior nodded. “Can you do that Flautzeal?” he asked. The second year hadn't had any training in information gathering yet.

“I will make an attempt. There is an excellent singer who hails from Berschman,” he replied. Zargerecht shook his head. Melchior’s retinue was in dire need of more members.

“Can you make inquiries as well Kolteruze?” Melchior asked.

“I cannot be as discreet as a scholar might, but I’ll see what I can find out,” he promised.

“Thank you both.”

“You need not thank your retainers for doing their jobs,” Zargerecht corrected. Melchior just nodded. He couldn't take back his thanks, so his normal custom of correcting himself couldn't be employed. “You should say something like ‘see that you do’ or ‘I look forward to your good work’,” Zargerecht offered.

Melchior thought those things sounded kind of rude. He hadn't noticed when his mother or father said them, but the idea of saying such things himself seemed awfully arrogant. He chose the softer of the two options, “I look forward to your good work,” he said.

Footnotes

14. The middle of nowhere. Drewanchel is also kind of far from a sea.^{^}
15. “Talking about nothing important” or “Discussing something silly”^{^}
16. Being involved in romance or talking to your crush.^{^}
17. Important topics worthy of recording^{^}
18. “Are running away”^{^}
19. We want her to marry into our duchy^{^}
20. She won’t accept your proposal unless you plan to move to Ehrenfest.^{^}
21. “Perish the thought” or “I’ll go my whole life without ever seeing that” or “That's impossible” because the wall is a circle and circle’s don't have corners or they have infinitely many corners.^{^}
22. I’ve been anticipating this for a while^{^}
23. “Did time fly while we were having fun?” Or “Were we having fun?”^{^}
24. Wilfried is saying that they both know how things will go even if it's a little different every time and asking if Ortwin would rather do the same old thing. At least I hope that's what that reads as.^{^}
25. “Talk like lovers”^{^}
26. Maybe one day when I'm too sick to play properly^{^}
27. “He was so ill informed” or “he asked for common information”^{^}
28. Only over our dead bodies^{^}
29. “Don't get into a position you can't turn back from” or “prepare for all possible alternatives”^{^}

Chapter Text

A Concrete Plan for the Hides

That afternoon, Melchior and Flautzeal bundled up to visit Veremund. He needed more parchment and felt it was time to negotiate their deal in finer detail. So far there was only the promise to sell their skins at a reduced rate to Veremund's family so they could sell them at the normal price along with a small percentage of profits reserved for Veremund himself. If Melchior and his knights ended up using it all though, the scholar wouldn't be able to collect much profit.

“Lord Melchior, it is an honor for you to visit my humble work space. I apologize that I am wholly unfit to welcome you,” Veremund said as he busily shuffled things around and cleaned up the space a little. His ears and nose were a bit pink with cold and he wore a woolen coat over his brewing clothes and under his apron and a woolen scarf bound tightly around his neck.

“It is very cold in here. Are you certain you are comfortable?” Melchior asked.

Veremund smiled warmly despite the chill. “Any discomfort has been worth it. I am making new developments, though nothing of note yet. You were correct in that Lord Ferdinand's book covers only the basics but it was so thorough, I was reminded of things I’d forgotten. The recipe for higher level potions is also brilliant. It circumvents the need for several ingredients which are heavily used in other potions. Were we to use them both in tandem, we might produce more potions without balding the gathering spot nearly so quickly,” he chatted and hurried to stir a brewing pot. It started to smoke while he was tidying but seemed under control now.

“That is good, Veremund. We’ve come to discuss your compensation. I foresee needing to keep more of our products than previously anticipated. We should not like you to feel as though we have taken advantage of your enthusiasm,” Melchior began.

Veremund looked at Flautzeal who seemed as surprised by the topic as he was. “Lord Melchior, you need not trouble yourself to come all the way here, to my freezing corner of the dormitory, to have such a discussion. If you would excuse a mere scholar to give counsel, it is the job of your scholars to prepare such agreements and gather the necessary information for you to make a decision,” he explained. “Were we not arrested in our initial planning stages by a lack of proper groundwork?”

Melchior huddled into himself a bit. Perhaps this was a bad place for a prolonged discussion. “You are not the first to say this. I was impatient to speak about this since we will be needing much more parchment.”

“There is plenty of parchment,” Veremund said and gestured to a pile of prepared but uncut skins as tall as Melchior's thighs. “It is mostly only used for contracts and magic letters these days so demand has greatly decreased. It is the simplest of the items we produce.”

“You have been most diligent,” Melchior said with awe. In addition to this pile of creamy white parchment, there were two shorter piles sorted into light and dark colors.

“I enjoy this work more than standard scholar's work. Attempting to gain information at a scholar's gathering is always harrowing and brewing the same recipes over and over is not as fulfilling as working with one's whole body and mind,” he explained. “It is the larger skins which will pay the greatest dividends. And Sigsnyr has promised to hunt a schnefeld if I perfect the liquid!”

“Are schnefeld hard to hunt?”

“Their fellows do not appreciate when you kill one so it must be lured or dragged away from its herd, lest you face an avalanche of mobile boulders. They have very thick hides so skinning them well is quite hard. I cannot wait to see what beautiful work Lady Zipporah will do when met with something worthy of her skill,” he paused to sigh and stare wistfully into the corner. “They are not particularly hard to hunt but their skin and teeth are popular ingredients for faestone armor crystals making it very rare to have one tanned. But the leather is amazingly durable and excellent for bags and equipment.”

“It sounds like quite the prize. We briefly discussed your percentage of the profit but we made no promises about the quantity to be sold. I feel we must offer you something material in the event all the merchandise is redirected to other uses,” Melchior said again. He wouldn't feel right if they took so much of his time and mana and left him with nothing.

“If you insist, we can discuss it. As I am not your retainer, calculating fair compensation for research will be complicated. As this is my family's trade, I will benefit from this knowledge more than anyone. Your knights are providing the materials and you have furnished the space. However, you would have had a collection of useless items without my contributions. My family has proffered a secret recipe and basic tools to facilitate this work. With our current agreement due to result in considerable revenue for myself and my family, we would need to decide whether to agree on compensation based on theoretical future gains or time spent.

“As an example of what we might do, you could calculate my theoretical pay based on the going rate for research done by an apprentice scholar, combined with a fee paid for use of our recipes, then take all the skins and resulting research for yourself since you and your retainers have provided all other assets of this venture,” Veremund explained. He looked pained to say it though.

“That is not what you want?” Melchior asked.

Veremund sighed. He continued stirring his potion while visibly weighing his options. “That is what would usually occur. It would be considered generous to allow me to use the knowledge gained either without paying extra for it or being bound by magical contract not to teach others or seek profit from its use. It is presumptuous of me to ask for more.”

Melchior turned this over in his mind. Veremund didn't have to explain things as he was. He could have lied and negotiated a very favorable deal. Isolde wasn't even here to challenge him and Flautzeal had incentive to support better contracts for craftspeople. Instead, he had been honest, both about the realities and his dissatisfaction.

“I do not want to take advantage of you, Lord Melchior. You have been so generous with knowledge and even sent me treats. You have respected my desire not to become your retainer but still collaborate on this research and allow me to share potions with your knights. In short, your friendship has been a great benefit. Our previous agreement, that I should have a percentage of the profits, is more than enough for me. If you insist on adding some insurance, I would ask that a selection of the skins be marked for guaranteed sale at your discretion. I would also like to make use of what we learned and have my name listed on the research presentation.”

“Why wouldn't we include your name when you have done all the work?” Melchior questioned. Who would exclude the primary scholar?

“It has been done before. Not to me but it is not unheard of for higher status individuals to take credit for others' work.”

“We will not exclude you from credit. Will you be publishing your findings this year?”

“I haven't learned much new knowledge but I might add a pamphlet detailing what I’ve learned about the specific components. I couldn't find anything about their use in tanning in the Royal Academy Library or collections in the Scholar Building. It won't win any awards but it is enough for a medscholar.”

Melchior felt himself begin to shiver. He stood and began pacing to warm himself a little. Having read some documents of sale and contracts in the offices he felt he could guess at a reasonable offer. “As you know, the knights have marked some skins for themselves. You may select any they have not chosen to mark for sale as well as one as a gift from myself. If the knights are willing, you may even choose the schnefeld should its hunting come to pass. I will promise to sell enough to meet what would be your percentage should we sell half the skins. Mark additional skins for anyone else who would prefer that payment over possible greater rewards,” he felt content with the arrangement. He would be able to make gifts and compensate his knights for their service without worrying about taking advantage of Veremund. The percentage he agreed on with Isolde wasn't all that high to begin with so it wouldn't take many skins to pay him out.

The blood drained from Veremund's face making for a gastly display with his pink ears and nose. “That is far too generous. Anyone would think I swindled you because of your youth,” he said.

Melchior turned it over in his head, he also looked at Flautzeal and his guard who hadn't given any input so far. Theodore stroked his chin for a moment but ultimately just shrugged. “This is beyond me,” he said.

“It is what one might agree upon between equal parties but you are an Archduke Candidate. You need not give so much,” Flautzeal explained.

“Are these worth a great deal?” Melchior asked as he gestured broadly to the collected skins. It almost didn't look like any had been processed with how many had been added since they began.

Veremund nodded. “It would be difficult for my family to accumulate so many in such a small amount of time. With the cost associated with either hiring knights and buying their hunting permit, or buying their skins out right, we could not afford to have so many faeskins at once. Plus, Lady Zipporah’s skill and oversight means every skin is of utmost quality. There are no gashes through the middles of hides and minimal damage to the masks. We can expect many large golds were we to sell everything.”

“So if Flautzeal's family provided all the skins and ingredients and work space, you would consider this deal to be fair compensation for your work even given your small percentage?” Melchior asked.

“The Klavier are extremely exacting clients. They would not support such open ended research but if they did, and they would not, I would personally ask for more. For anyone else, I would say it is agreeable,” replied Veremund. Melchior had to look at Flautzeal. The scholar looked unfazed by the implication that his family was hard to work for. He also huddled in his chair despite his mantle and scarves. It was amazing that Veremund could spend hours in this cold room.

“Then we shall go with that. You entered into our agreement in good faith. I will not see your trust squandered.” Before anyone could argue again he continued. “How many hides would we need to cut 36 or so sheets of parchment the normal size of Ehrenfest paper?”

“About six. Seven to be safe.” Veremund replied, completely distracted from the previous conversation by calculating. Flautzeal, by contrast, had retrieved a sheet of paper to record the new agreement.

Melchior walked over to the stacks, he wondered if the colored pages were worth more or less than the standard white. “The white and dark piles are the most valuable. The in-between shades are too dark to sell for writing and too pale to use for decorative purposes.” Veremund called from his pot before Melchior needed to ask. He took the paper from Flautzeal and read over his notes. “If we are to make a contract, we must use parchment,” he reminded. They hadn't made a written contract up to now.

“I…I will need to c…cut the parchment before I can d…draft the agreement,” Flautzeal studdered. Veremund was impressed by just how neat his handwriting was despite how cold he seemed to be.

Since Flautzeal obviously needed to take his leave and wasn't in a position to assist, Melchior pulled the necessary skins from the lightly tan pile as well as one from the white pile. Theodore shook his head and took them. He made a roll and stuffed it under his arm. So many people would be chastised if Melchior was seen lugging a large collection of uncut parchment. It was already poor form to be without an attendant but Pepin was helping the few struggling students still unable to pass all their written lessons and Kolteruze was out collecting information. Their trip was supposed to be a short one, so Zargerecht was convinced to continue his work rather than accompany his lord. He would be annoyed that they ended up needing his help after all.

The three boys hurried away. Zargerecht did give Theodore a strong look when they returned to Melchior's room but said nothing as the knight placed his spoils on the table. Flautzeal was deposited next to the fire with strict orders to remain until he stopped shivering. Melchior began planning how to position his cuts on the first skin.

“Lord Melchior, your attendants or scholars should see to this. If you need parchment right now you have a few sheets already cut,” Zargerecht chided. He moved to take the spare piece of plant paper Melchior was using as a guide. The young lord sadly relinquished his place and sat down at his desk. Flautzeal could make his own sheets once he was warm enough to cut straight lines.

Instead, Melchior took out his lion-headed mana pen. His gift from Rozemyne was naturally of high quality but as it was the only one he’d seriously used, he wanted to gauge just how superior it was. Melchior considered asking to borrow Flautzeal or Theodore's for comparison but was afraid of breaking them so he began by testing the one in his tool kit.

Zargerecht brought him a piece of parchment. He wouldn't normally use something so expensive for a simple test but he was writing with pure mana. They could dip it in mana-eraser later and reuse the page. Just making a few lines wasn't enough to detect anything. He wrote out what he could remember of his favorite knight story in small letters. Once he’d covered the whole front of the sheet he began to detect the smallest bit of resistance. He swapped back and forth between his black and silver pen and the lion-headed one to be sure it wasn't his imagination.

There really was the tiniest throttle on the Ehrenfest heirloom pen. He would need to write for a very long time to be affected by it but it served to highlight just how finely made his gift was. That the ink looked like the night sky while drying or drawing magic circles in the air was a happy bonus. He once again felt how inadequate his return gifts were by comparison.

He had a relaxing rest of the day. After dinner Flautzeal continued his translating until an ordonnanz arrived from Zipporah.

“Lady Lauriel is requesting an emergency audience with Lord Melchior. She seems to be in great distress,” it said. Despite her dire sounding missive, Zipporah’s voice was calm.

“There is no need for you to respond to such a request so soon before bedtime,” Zargerecht said as the bird returned to a faestone in his hand.

“If she is in distress, perhaps it is important,” Melchior countered. He recalled the stories of how Mathias and Laurenz brought the information which led to the Winter Purge.

“Zipporah hasn't even explained why she is requesting to see you,” Zargerecht replied. He tapped the stone and spoke to the bird. “Lord Melchior is preparing to retire. This can wait until morning.”

When the message returned it was with stifled sobs in the background. “Lady Lauriel recognizes the extraordinary nature of her request and begs your forbearance.” By the second repeat Melchior had set down his brush and gestured for Kolteruze to bring him a house coat and shoes.

Zargerecht sighed and sent the bird not back to Zipporah but to Theodore. “Lord Melchior requires an escort to the landing.”

Theodore appeared quickly. He’d formed his armor over his bedclothes creating an incongruous display of leisurely preparedness. Next to his lord, they looked every bit the dedicated loungers.

“What are you wearing?” Zargerecht chided.

“It sounded urgent, so I came right away,” Theodore replied. He looked at Melchior who behaved as though there was need for great haste.

“Yes, let us go,” he said. “It is cold in the hallways. We should not leave them waiting.”

“My lord,” Zargerecht began but Kolteruze was already opening the door and following Melchior through it. Zargerecht hurried after them.

Even though Zargerecht hadn't sent confirmation to Zipporah, she was waiting with the shaking fourth year on the landing of the boys floor. The stair guards seemed to already have gotten their fill of staring at her startling display of emotion. When she saw Melchior enter the hall she immediately knelt and remained with her knee on the cold ivory until he arrived before her. Melchior gestured for her to rise and even considered offering a hand to help her up but she crossed her arms and lowered her head.

“I will not delay you with formalities, Lord Melchior. Lady Lauriel has not slept well these past two days. She fears she will be forsaken by Schlaftraum³⁰ on this night,” Zipporah explained. She was fully dressed in her knight uniform and regarded Theodore with amusement.

“You highness, I beg your forgiveness from the bottom of my heart. I am often beset by awful terrors of the night. Lady Gerianne has most graciously blessed me when dark fae threaten to steal away my peace. While she has been away, Lady Isolde has generously offered her assistance. As she is currently nurturing her Divine Will there is no one for me to turn to,” she paused to take a deep breath. “I know it is deeply presumptuous to request a blessing from your highness but I fear I cannot endure.”

Zargerecht placed a hand on Melchior's shoulder. “If you do this, others will think it perfectly reasonable to ask as well,” he warned. “Lady Zipporah, could you not perform this gesture?”

“It requires a great deal of mana when one does not have the life element. I am not yet recovered from training earlier today,” she explained.

Zargerecht looked at Theodore and Pepin. “It is amazing that Gerianne can cast it at all,” Pepin said.

“She is able to bless two people each night there are no classes. I often defer so that others may bask in Schlaftraum’s embrace but on this night it is as it is when the very eye of the speisenrochen is upon me.”

“What on earth is that?” Zargerecht questioned.

“It is the Lord of Darkness, the executor of that Supreme God’s wrath,” she said with trembling in her voice.

“How do you draw the God of Darkness’s wrath?” Theodore muttered.

Lauriel shuddered. “I do not know.”

“I will bless you,” Melchior said as he stepped closer and placed a hand on her head. “O Schlaftraum, God of Dreams, may Lauriel be blessed with pleasant sleep and joyful dreams.” White light gathered under his hand but unlike Heilshmertz's healing he felt like he was forcing it past some manner of resistance.

She looked up and took his hand, but before thanks could issue from her lips a peaceful look came over her face and her eyes closed. Zipporah bent to catch her just as she started to sink to the floor. Zipporah was quite tall and Lady Lauriel was not large but it still looked like a strain for the knight to carry her. “I will return her to her room. She will no doubt give proper thanks on the morrow.”

“Good night, Zipporah,” Melchior said and watched for a moment to assure himself she could carry the sleeping girl. Zipporah rested her on the stairs for a moment and wrapped Lauriel’s arms around her neck before continuing with a deferential nod to Melchior. The stair guards, meanwhile, looked like they'd witnessed a miracle. Melchior hastily led his party back to his room to avoid their stares.

A Chat with Philine

The next day there was a declaration from Wilfried over the breakfast table. All knights were to complete their classes as quickly as possible and report for training. He also strongly requested that Melchior and Charlotte’s guard knights attend training as much as possible. For Charlotte, who had ten knights, this wasn't that great a burden, but for Melchior, only Nikolaus would be left to guard him. His other knights were central to some part or other of the strategies and needed to be there if he had no other reason to leave the dorms.

“If we are to be called away, you should consider summoning Gerianne, Lord Melchior,” Sigsnyr whispered over his breakfast. Melchior smiled brightly. It would be nice to have Gerianne around. Practicing his sword with Nikolaus or his other knights wasn't as nice.

“She is unable to perform knight duties up to the minimum standard. Her presence will not even allow Lord Melchior to leave the dormitory,” Zargerecht said. Sigsnyr scowled, he’d intended to escape the attendants notice until the idea was firmly planted.

“Though Angriff has not acknowledged her, Bernnwarme guides her steadily³¹,” Theodore interjected. Having heard the fervent pleading of Gerianne's devotee, he was beginning to believe in her quality.

“Even if she stays but one blade, her presence would increase our lord's security,” Zipporah added. Melchior quailed a bit at the thought of Gerianne taking a blade for him even if it was her job. He was still delighted with the idea of summoning her. Since his head knight was suggesting it, it had to be a sound plan.

“I must allow my retainers no less vigilance than they deem necessary,” Melchior intoned. Zargerecht’s smile morphed into a rare glare. Melchior was not in a position to see this and continued. “I will write a request to Ehrenfest. I am sure she will be excited to return as well.”

“Whether she is excited need not be considered. You must think this through logically, my lord,” Zargerecht managed to say without venom.

Flautzeal leaned over Isolde's empty chair, “She may not be useful as a knight but the information she gathers on her walks around the Academy are sure to prove more useful now that more people are circulating after finishing their classes,” he added.

With such vocal encouragement, Zargerecht couldn't hope to convince his lord. He directed a final glare at the back of Sigsnyr's head and gave the boy's attendant a reproving look. No matter how well regarded Florencia's attendant was, Sigsnyr’s uncle was not a man to be cowed. He met this stare with calm indifference so reminiscent of his nephew that it only served to fan Zargerecht’s anger.

Immediately after breakfast, Melchior wrote his report. He used a wooden board and gleefully requested the presence of his final knight. Along with it he wrote a happy letter to Adaire mentioning his work in the archive and some of the students he was becoming familiar with in the halls. He promised to introduce Adaire if he wished so that his gregarious friend could become acquainted with as many people as his heart desired. He closed by charging him to practice his magic circles and renewing his confidence in Adaire's abilities. As he didn't want this letter to be returned he asked Zargerecht to look it over.

“Have you sent any of this information home before today?”

“I believe I’ve mentioned my work in the archive,” Melchior replied. That was the only important thing after all.

“So the Aub is unaware just how much socializing you do on excursions outside the dormitory?”

Melchior looked confused. “We pass so few words and say almost nothing. Can that be called socializing?”

Zargerecht nodded. He pointed to a line in the letter. “Here you say that a young man from Hauchletze told you his Aub is pushing for more archscholars to study the ancient language.”

“Yes. I mentioned I was on my way to the Archduke's Archive and he shared that he was studying ancient language as well.”

“This is very important information. I can recall other things you might report as well. You should also discuss what you should and should not share when ‘passing a few words’. I cannot say how freely you should publicize your work with Prince Hildebrand.” Zargerecht picked up the request for Gerianne. He was still unhappy that she should be summoned but it was a battle already lost. “You were so sparse on this report yet effusive in your letter to your friend. It should be the reverse.”

Both were handed back. Melchior was happy with his letter but decided to write a second missive in case the first was denied. He added additional information to the board meant for Sylvester’s office and wrote a second board containing vague insinuations to fun and well wishes for Adaire. In his letter to the Aub he requested that the board be sent if the letter was unsatisfactory.

Zargerecht agreed that these were improvements and gave his approval to send them. Flautzeal paused his translating to deliver them to the teleportation room. He returned with boards requesting a meeting with Philine and word that Lady Lauriel wished to offer her thanks when it was convenient for Melchior to accept it.

His only remaining plans were to exercise and paint so he agreed to meet Philine at third and a half bell and Lauriel just before then.

The painting of the parue trees was nearly finished. He was working on it in his hidden room to prevent anyone from asking questions but he left his door open most of the time. It was comforting to hear Flautzeal scribbling or playing his instruments and he could summon him for advice if needed. As the only person allowed to see the painting, he was sworn both to secrecy and against curiosity.

Melchior consulted him about a shumil portrait diptych and received strong encouragement. “Where will you acquire another blank one?” he asked with a glitter in his eyes. Melchior wasn't sure. He knew what they should look and feel like and had the materials to prime the wood and some wooden boards they could sacrifice but wasn't sure how to put things together. He would have to ask the only carpenter he knew was attending the Royal Academy.

Once third and a half bell was approaching. Melchior left his room to attend his meetings. It was the time of the year when everyone wanted a meeting room so Melchior took a corner of the common room for a receiving area. Kolteruze found him a little table and brought an area of effect sound blocker.

Lauriel arrived first and knelt. She took his hand and pressed her forehead to his ring. “From the very bottom of my heart, I thank you. I have not had such sweet sleep in all my time at the Royal Academy.”

Melchior didn't feel right rushing her out of this pose of deep gratitude even as people glanced their way. “I am glad you were not forsaken by Schlaftraum. You may request my assistance again if all others are unavailable,” he assured her. She could not express any more gratitude than she already was so she verbally thanked him again and promised not to frivolously waste his generosity.

“You may also ask Lord Nikolaus,” Kolteruze said. “He is well practiced in giving the blessing,”

Melchior wondered how Nikolaus was getting practice warding away nightmares but this was not the time to ask. Lauriel rose. “I thank you ever so much, Lord Kolteruze. I will confer with him when he is off duty to confirm.” She gave a farewell to Melchior and walked away.

Zargerecht realized he’d forgotten Kolteruze’s presence the previous night. He turned to his apprentice now. “Can you give this blessing?”

Kolteruze shook his head. “I didn't think it was important enough to learn. I suppose I will now. Would you like me to make a copy of the words for you as well?” he smiled sweetly and held Zargerecht’s eyes.

“Please do,” Zargerecht replied after a pregnant pause.

“I can write it out for you,” Melchior offered.

“There is no need to trouble yourself. I will ask Nikolaus or Gerianne when she arrives,” Kolteruze replied. He deactivated the sound blocker for the moment and Melchior listened to the hum of the common room. There were only a few more students studying. Pepin sat with them and patiently explained what he could over and over again. There were boys currently using the Gewinnen board. The knights and scholars were all away preparing for ditter so this was a collection of attendants. It seemed they were still pursuing excellence in hair styling as even those with shorter hair looked like they'd given it consideration.

Just as he was considering requesting a book, Philine came in. Several scholars hurried off behind her. It seemed their meeting had just let out. “Please prepare a chair,” Melchior said. Kolteruze and Zargerecht had assumed she would stand like anyone else briefly meeting with an Archduke Candidate. Kolteruze hurried to prepare a seat and assisted as Philine sat down. He then activated the sound blocker once again.

“I offer greetings on this morning ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life,” Philine intoned.

“I accept your greetings, Lady Philine. You wished to speak with me?” Melchior replied.

Zargerecht had never seen his lord interact seriously with this former shrine maiden before. He was taken aback by just how much deference his charge would show a layscholar.

“Indeed. Thank you for making time for me so quickly. I greatly appreciate your magnanimity.”

“Of course, Lady Philine. I am always enriched by your discourse.”

“You flatter me. Shall we discuss?” Melchior nodded with a smile. “As you know I spend a great deal of time in the library. I would first like to express my gratitude for the assistance of your retainers. The presence of those with high status greatly aids my work.”

“I am glad we could assist.”

“While I was there coordinating crest work for Lady Rozemyne, I was approached by a scholar of Losrenger. They wished to coordinate the exchange of coin for your assistance securing a translation of a tablet on behalf of Lady Margarethe. Were you aware of this?”

Melchior sighed. Margarethe had promised discretion yet failed to seek out one of his own scholars. He wondered if Losrenger had simply talked to the first ochre cape they could find. “Yes. I agreed to translate or find a scholar capable of translating a slate for Lady Margarethe of Losrenger. She assured me she would use the utmost discretion. It is a result of my poor handling that you have been burdened in this way.”

“It is no burden. It is crest work for Ehrenfest and I often handle such discussions. As time was of the essence, I’ve negotiated a fair price though I had not considered that you, yourself, would perform this work. Have you found a scholar to work in your stead?”

“I have not. In truth I forgot during the tumult of yesterday and this morning. My head scholar is indisposed and my second scholar is working on a complicated project. I must offer sincere gratitude to you for returning this to my attention. Were you given the transcription? I have time to finish it before dinner.” Melchior said. He folded his hands neatly and tried his best to speak in spite of the reproving smile he was receiving.

“Lord Melchior. This simply won't do. We must be most careful in our dealings with other duchies and ensure we follow through. Something of such importance cannot be left to scholars especially when the initial agreement was made within a space that forbids them,” she maintained a gentle tone through this whole lecture. Zargerecht was increasingly amazed that she would be so bold as to correct his lord so straightforwardly. That Melchior sat up perfectly straight and accepted her words with more sincere humility than his own could not be contemplated.

“It is as you say. I will not make this mistake again.”

Philine nodded and retrieved two pages from her stack of papers. “This is the transcription and this is the contract. It is marked with the crest of Losrenger. If you complete the work yourself you will receive the full amount. Should you hire a scholar you must provide the paper, then you are expected to take thirty percent as well as the cost of the paper,” she explained. She passed the papers to Kolteruze who looked them over before giving them to Melchior. Melchior looked at the contract and gave a small gasp.

“Lady Philine, we are asking so much!”

“We have promised haste and quality and will provide our own materials. I also provided the parchment for the contract. You need not repay me. In truth, had I known you intended to perform the work, I could have secured more favorable terms.” Even as she spoke of squeezing more money out of a poor lesser duchy Melchior had to calm his breathing.

“These terms are already most favorable. Four large golds. Did Sister not negotiate a price of eighteen for translating all of Dunkelfelger’s history?” he asked.

“That was a project of her own passion and impetus. She also did not charge for her own time, only that of her scholars. It takes some time to develop the knowledge capable of translating even so short a slate in the span of two bells. I dare say there are just two in Ehrenfest Dormitory capable of such a feat. That you are one is wonderful new information.”

“Would you like to do this work, Lady Philine? You negotiated such a lucrative deal,” Melchior offered as he finally rested the paper on his little table.

“I am afraid I am much too busy to take on the task. We are mere weeks from the Interduchy Tournament and Ehrenfest is publishing more research this year than any I’ve previously attended,” she replied.

Melchior nodded. He stacked the transcription with the contract. Her mention of the tournament reminded him of Flautzeal's disclosure from before. “It has come to my attention that some scholars are not accepting of your generous assistance,” he said.

“That Ordoshnelli has traveled even to Verfuhremeer³²,” she said with a shake of the head. “As I am a layscholar, it is beyond daring to be placed as the head scholar. That some are unhappy is to be expected.”

“Were you not appointed by Charlotte and Wilfried? Who would be bold enough to defy their judgment?” Melchior asked. He hoped it wasn't actually Wilfried's scholar.

“I could not present their medals³³. I would also advise that you not involve yourself further. You will be here for five more years. It is important to foster good relationships at this early stage. You must establish authority so that you needn't exercise power.” Philine continued smiling while her eyes took a hard edge. She seemed even more determined that he not interfere than she had been with Dame Streita.

“I wish to help you. It is not right that your years of diligent service be ignored over such trivialities.”

Philine’s previous gentleness receded leaving a flat tone. “These are the foundations of our society. The laynoble defers to the mednoble, the mednoble to the archnoble, the archnoble to the aub, and all defer to the Zent. Attempts to usurp status either by guile or expertise will always meet with penalty. Steifebrise may not come before Schutzaria. This is what holds up the mountains³⁴.” Melchior listened as she denigrated her own place. He felt miserable thinking that he could do nothing. He did not have the strength to face down the foundations of society.

“It is as you say,” he whispered. “Is there truly nothing that would ease your burden?”

“You need not worry on my account. It warms my heart that you would even think of me, Lord Melchior.” She returned to smiling and lightly tapped the contract. “Lunch will soon be upon us. There is a bonus in our future if you deliver this tonight such that she might turn it in tomorrow morning. You may pass it to me when you are done. I will look it over and deliver it.”

“Thank you, Lady Philine, for your timely assistance. I shall impose upon you this evening to deliver my completed work to Losrenger. Let Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weave the threads of our fate together then.”

“May our parting be brief,” Philine replied. Melchior gave a proper gesture to signify she was free to leave. Kolteruze stepped forward to assist with her chair. He felt the need to perform this common task with utmost reverence. Philine bowed first to Melchior, then to Kolteruze before walking out of the bubble of silence and gracefully out of the common room.

Zargerecht stopped him from deactivating the sound-blocker. “Lord Melchior, only with Lady Florencia have I seen you display such poise. Why do you show such care for a laynoble but not for so many others?”

Melchior presented a noble smile. He could still feel Philine's eyes grading his every motion. “Is Lady Philine not deserving of care? She is an exemplary scholar and a fellow clergywoman. Should I disgrace myself in her presence simply because I have failed at other times?” he asked.

Zargerecht couldn't help but straighten up a bit himself. “No, my lord. I do not mean to imply that you should show her less care, only that you should display such comportment before others as well.”

“I have heard your counsel. Please continue to advise such that I do not bring shame to Ehrenfest,” Melchior said. He then handed the papers to Kolteruze. Before leading his attendant away. Zargerecht was left to replace the chairs and return the table to its proper place.

Flautzeal was still writing when they returned to Melchior's room. Melchior opened his hidden room and asked Kolteruze to put away his paints so he could begin transcribing immediately. Only after the apprentice attendant had spent a bit too much time inside did Melchior remember he hadn't covered his art piece.

He got up from his desk and charged back into his hidden room. The space was fairly small. He’d created it while envisioning a certain corner of the castle where he liked to draw. There was a large window with a generous enough sill to support a cushion. Since he’d often dreamed of adding little shelves to that nook, his hidden room was outfitted with a bit of built-in storage which was largely empty. Only two of his storage faestones, some paints, and a smock he’d been charged to never under any circumstances be seen wearing by anyone, were currently occupying the space. The window appeared to be of frosted glass and glowing with soft evening sun at all hours of the day. There was also an easel currently supporting the wooden board he was painting and Kolteruze standing before it.

“Do not look,” he cried. Not only was it incomplete but the dark forest filled with half visible foliage and sparking glassy trees was something he never should have witnessed. He’d also made the bold choice to add a little boy with his own hair color and style to the ramshackle collection of orphan children in their strange combination of rags, wools, and knitted clothing. ‘He’ was even the only one wearing proper boots, identifiable by the white lacing up the back.

Kolteruze turned slowly to look at Melchior. It seemed to take great effort not to look back. “Is this what you did?” he asked.

All the invincible poise from his conversation with Philine was gone. He hurried over and pulled the cover over his work. “It isn't finished,” he said rather than answering. He then began to put his own paints away.

The older boy sighed and took the supplies and put them away. He cleaned the brushes with Waschen and placed a carefully molded piece of waxed fabric over the palette. All the while Melchior stood back and fretted in the warm light. “I think it is good. Perhaps your best work thus far,” Kolteruze said. He hadn't seen as much of Melchior's art as Sigsnyr but after years of being shown pieces during his winters in the playroom, he had a good idea of Melchior's progress as an artist. “It looks like you had fun,” he added.

“I shall not do it again. You need not worry. I just did not wish to forget the sight.”

“Who would wish to forget such a sight,” Kolteruze said gently. “I hope you will show people when it is finished.” He felt sure that an archnoble like himself would never get to experience that kind of wonder during his well mannered and perfectly controlled life as an Archductal retainer. He wasn't even certain he would see the moon rise over the Leisegang wheat ever again.

They exited the hidden room together upon the sounding of the fourth bell.

Footnotes

30. Have a nightmare or otherwise be unable to sleep^{^}

31. What she lacks in skill she makes up for with passion or dedication^{^}

32. Even the person least involved knows^{^}

33. I can't or won't name names^{^}

34. “Holding up the mountains” is preserving tradition with the implication that failing to do so would cause catastrophe^{^}

Chapter Text

Return of Isolde

Isolde appeared just before dinner. She sent a messenger to inform Melchior immediately. Flautzeal sent his completed notes in a sealed packet to tide her over while Melchior continued to work diligently.

Since Philine had promised quality and for such a high price he’d been practicing drawing the magic circle perfectly. He’d also rewritten the translation neatly on a separate piece of his favorite plant paper. It was one of the experimental sheets from Hasse. It's strange weightyness coupled with its refined thinness felt appropriate for such important text. He was in the process of completing the magic circle at the bottom of the page.

Pepin had been looking over his shoulder for a while when the last pen stroke was done. “I am greatly impressed, Lord Melchior. Your magic circles are perfect.”

Melchior shook his head. “There are faults all over. It will take me many years to draw with the speed and grace that Uncle does.”

“It no doubt took him years as well,” Pepin encouraged. “It is time for dinner. Shall I prepare the documents for delivery?”

“Yes thank you. We will give them to Lady Philine after dinner,” he replied.

“Be sure to send your own scholar as well. We would not like future business to pass through the wrong person again,” Zargerecht said.

Melchior nodded. He would also send a guard since Philine might be entrusted with four whole large golds. He had Zargerecht prepare three large silvers so they could give Philine her negotiating fee immediately. Zargerecht was surprised that Melchior was selecting a reasonable amount rather than being overly generous. He feared his lord would insist on a full thirty percent because Philine had mentioned that that was how much compensation Melchior could take for brokering the deal.

It was good to have Isolde back in her chair. She seemed to be glowing with energy while her attendant looked exhausted. “Lord Melchior, it is wonderful to be free again. I am ready to render better service than ever before,” she declared.

“We are glad to have you back. Much has occurred in your absence,” he replied. Zargerecht placed down his first course with a bit of restrained annoyance. Even “much” felt like an understatement considering the revelation of the last few days.

“Do not tell me now. We will have our meeting after dinner. Oh, how I have missed them,” she cooed.

Unfortunately, there was nothing else to talk about. “I’ve completed the translation for Losrenger. They contacted us through Lady Philine. Please go with her to deliver it after dinner. Fear not, we will not begin without you.”

The abject horror disappeared from her face as quickly as it had come. “I shall see it done. What ritual did she choose?”

“One for calming hot weather. It comes with a magic circle but sadly doesn't explain how to use it.”

“Does it invoke Verfuhremeer?” Sigsnyr asked.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“It was only a guess. I believe it is the magic circle of Verfuhremeer’s staff. Whether you need to have learned Flutrane's staff to summon it, I do not know. I do know that the ritual requires it,” Sigsnyr explained.

“That is worrisome. We recommend it because Losrenger is so hot. If it is worthless without a divine instrument no one has ever seen then she has wasted her time and money,” Melchoir sighed.

“Who said no one has ever seen it? The ritual persists to this day in Dunkelfelger. Their Archduke Candidates are all taught the staff,” Kolterze interjected. “When I was a first year, I saw Lady Rozemyne wield it as well so it must be possible to learn.”

“Just because Rozemyne can do it doesn't mean it is possible for most people,” Nikolaus muttered.

“In any case they can ask Dunkelfelger,” Sigsnyr concluded.

“They will never ask Dunkelfelger,” Melchior said. Both Sigsnyr and Isolde looked at him quizzically. “Losrenger used to be a part of Dunkelfelger but asked the Zent to become their own duchy due to cultural differences. Naturally neither has forgotten.”

“Did we learn that in history?” Zipporah asked.

Melchior shook his head. “I only found out because Dunkelfelger's history book boasts of having the Spear of Angriff in their bay but Dunkelfelger has neither a bay nor that particular rock formation in the modern day. They are both in Losrenger.”

“How much do you know about Yurgenschmidt geography?” Isolde asked.

“Likely as much as you know about Yurgenschmidt genealogy,” Sigsnyr replied.

Pepin and Nikolaus giggled. “Who is it that claims they never tell jokes,” Zipporah mumbled.

“That was not a joke. They both know a great deal about other duchies but about totally different things,” he insisted.

“It is impressive that you know so much about the Archductal families of Yurgenschmidt, Isolde,” Melchior said.

“If you know a similar amount about its geography then I am likewise impressed.” They swapped warm smiles and traded fun facts until the end of dinner.

After their meal, Pepin went to retrieve the packet for Philine while everyone else retired to a meeting room. Melchior sent Zipporah with Isolde and took a moment to read the replies from Ehrenfest.

Gerianne would be returning the next morning at second and a half bell. He announced this happily before reading on. His letter to Adaire was accepted and would be sent on. They were happy to receive his intelligence and sent a few questions they hoped he might find answers to. Namely, what were Volkwerk’s internal politics like and what trends Gilessenmeyer and Hauchletze were attempting to spread. Those didn't sound difficult in the slightest so he vowed within himself to ask around.

Finally, he was advised to coordinate more closely with Charlotte in the lead up to the Interdutchy Tournament. She would advise him on the current state of interduchy politics and how to approach socializing at the tournament. It ended with a bit of encouragement to be cautious of royalty.

As they waited for Isolde's return, Flautzeal organized his 38 sheets of notes. They contained not only Melchior's conversations but snaches of other people's as well. Melchior calmly read the record of every third sentence passed between Ortwin and Dahvidh. There was nothing of note.

Isolde and Zipporah eventually returned with Philine. She was indeed carrying four large golds in a wooden box. It was covered in pretty knotwork patterns. “So this is knot style carving,” Melchior cried happily. He’d only read descriptions before. “You do not mind if I keep the box?” he asked Philine.

“Of course not Lord Melchior. Lady Margarethe sent her thanks and renewed her promise not to publicize your arrangement,” she replied. She handed the box to Isolde who opened it and checked the money. Then Sigsmyr performed a series of bizarre experiments on the box involving powders and potions and staring intently. “You are so thorough, Lord Sigsnyr. I see Hartmut and Lord Eckhart’s teachings were not in vain,” she complimented.

“You are far too kind, Lady Philine. Knowing what I do, it would be the height of negligence to allow my lord to be poisoned.”

“You think Losrenger would poison me?” Melchior asked. Philine gave him a kind look. He sat up a bit straighter. “Do you truly worry our friends in Losrenger would employ such treachery?” he corrected.

His retainers who missed their earlier interaction were surprised, though not as much as Zargerecht had been. Sigsnyr finally placed the box in front of him. Zargerecht also placed the box with the three large silvers before Melchior so he could check its contents.

“It is better to know than to trust, my lord,” Sigsnyr replied and moved back to his place.

Melchior nodded his acknowledgement and opened both boxes. He elegantly moved the fabric covering the golds, then the fabric covering the silvers. Once he had spent a moment admiring the shine he lifted one gold from its box and moved it to the box with silvers. He then replaced the fabric and lid and gestured to Isolde to pass it along. Zargerecht didn't have time to signal anything before the box was presented to Philine to check.

“You are being most generous, Lord Melchior. As a mere go between, is thirty percent not too much?” she suggested.

“Lady Philine, were you not surprised by your sudden role as intermediary? Still you negotiated such favorable terms and saved me from the grave indiscretion of forgetting my bond. You have even made introductions between my scholars and those of Losrenger. Without your timely assistance, we would not have handled this exchange so quickly nor left such an excellent impression on our fellow duchy,” he kept talking until her questioning eyes softened.

“You honor me with your praise.”

“It is well deserved. You have done well and rendered unto me fine service. Please, take this as your due reward.” Despite his childish voice he was once again able to exude gravitas. Isolde contained her desire to squirm with delight and presented an impassive smile.

“I thank you ever so much.”

“I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven our threads of fate tightly together.”

“May our threads be woven together,” she replied and gave a bow to take her leave. Melchior gestured for Zipporah to escort her to her room to store her riches.

As much as Zargerecht wished to chastise Melchior for his excess generosity, he could not after hearing the speech. He gazed after Philine and wondered how the young woman came to wield such power over his charge.

“Let us begin our meeting. Isolde, you have read the transcription?” he said as Zargerecht took the box of golds off the table.

“Yes, Lord Melchior. It will take me some time to fully consider all that was said but you shall have my report tomorrow morning. I must say I was both surprised and pleased to see that you truly recorded every word, Flautzeal,” she said while flashing her fellow scholar a winning smile. He blushed and looked away.

“We were all amazed. It is just that it requires so much paper,” Melchior sighed.

“This is a great deal of parchment. I wonder what the other guest must have thought.”

“This is the translated version. The original record is approximately one third the size,” Flautzeal explained.

Isolde looked confused for a moment then decided to simply ask. “When you say original record, you mean that you wrote all of this at one third the size?”

Flautzeal shuffled his pages only to find he’d left the originals in Melchior's room. “I can show you later,” he promised while looking disappointed in himself.

Melchior removed his diptych from his belt and passed it toward Flautzeal. “I have yet to smooth over your notes from the debrief.”

Both Isolde and Flautzeal brightened. “That is even more important than the tea party itself,” she said and leaned over to look at the notes. She blinked several times in disbelief. “Is this truly text?” she asked.

Flautzeal nodded. “It will take me a bit of time to translate. As it is now, only I can read it.”

A new glimmer entered Isolde's eyes. “Only you can read it?” she asked and Flautzeal nodded. “No one else?”

“It is a system based on one my father uses to record music. I’ve altered it to better accommodate spoken words. It is possible that he or my uncle could decode it but they are not fluent in my system,” he explained.

“Would you be willing to teach?” she asked.

“Isolde, it must have taken him years to learn this,” Melchior said. “I do not expect you to write in shorthand as I do not expect him to memorize the family trees of all of Yurgenschmidt,” he insisted. Flautzeal made a small expression as though he'd forgotten his plan to do just that.

“But my lord, if we learn to read it, we can send secret messages. You could even disguise these markings in pieces of art,” she explained enthusiastically.

“If we…” Melchior muttered. He thought about the pages and pages of densely packed characters and shuddered.

“I am willing to teach,” Flautzeal said. He also looked excited by the idea of clandestine information exchanges.

“For now please read us the transcription of the debrief,” she goaded.

“I will need a moment to prepare,” Flautzeal said.

“Lord Melchior, they can easily exchange information at another time. It is growing late,” Zargerecht said. Their meeting really was dragging on.

“Flautzeal’s notes for this are not very long. I am still struggling to believe he is able to record every word so I would like to hear his recitation,” Melchior replied.

“I am ready to recite the debrief with Wilfried,” Flautzeal declared.

“Go ahead,” Melchior said.

“Wilfried: ‘How many notes did you take? Did Konradin tell some incredible story?’

“Melchior: ‘My head scholar requested a comprehensive record. Flautzeal never does anything by halves so he was very thorough’

“Wilfried: ‘Isolde sounds like a demanding boss. So, Lindenthal was just as tedious as he always is but I did learn that Pollmarch has more mana than Dahvidh. I predict a minor struggle for power given their personalities. We should decide who to support’ .” This continued until he’d rcounted every word including how Wilfried had said goodbye.

Isolde listened with great attention. She even took a few notes. Melchior leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table, and placed his head in his hands. It was agonizing to hear his own words and attempts at cleverness presented so nakedly. Flautzeal made no effort to recreate intonation, nor could he describe people's countenance at the time. He simply said each word as though it were just as unimportant as the last until the entire account was laid before them.

“This is very good,” Isolde praised. She fixed Flautzeal with a look of such delighted contentment that he blushed again.

“It is unwise to record meetings in this way,” Zargerecht countered. He looked ashen. “No one will like you having such a thorough account of their words. It may even put Lord Flautzeal in danger.” He made no attempt to pretty his language.

“We just won't tell them,” Isolde insisted. “Though, it is cumbersome to have absolutely everything written down. Also much is lost without any record of the tone or expression.”

“I cannot look at everyone and transcribe the conversation at the same time. I apologize for my lack of skill,” Flautzeal said. In spite of his incredible display he looked disappointed in himself once again.

“No, this is fantastic. We will work on signals and additional notations,” Isolde said gleefully. “Let us hear the tea party now,” she encouraged but Melchior held up his hand.

“No, goodness no. You may trade notes later. We must discuss what we know already so we can sleep at a reasonable time.” Melchior said. He wouldn't be able to endure listening to any more.

“Very well,” Isolde replied sadly. She took the pages Flautzeal had already translated and skimmed them. As she read her eyes sparkled and she squealed at certain parts. “Were you truly so firm with Lord Ortwin?” she teased.

“I thought it best not to allow for any alternative interpretations lest Kostenlos attempt to pressure us into a match.”

“Just be aware that if they are set on creating a bond through marriage, you may be offered in place of Charlotte. I would not push them to extremes,” Isolde warned. A shiver ran down Melchior's spine. He didn't want to marry into another duchy and as a second husband, he wouldn't even be allowed to see his family at the Archdukes Conference.

“I do not want that,” he said.

“No, you are too good to be the second husband of Kostenlos, of all places.” she finished skimming then asked after the next few moments. “It seems to me that Wilfried was training you specifically to beat Ortwin in Gewinnen,” she giggled.

“Why would he go to all that trouble? I am happy I won, but why should Wilfried care?” Melchior wondered.

Pepin indicated that he wished to speak. “If he and Lord Ortwin are generally evenly matched, having you defeat Ortwin would prove Ehrenfest to be superior at the game,” he suggested.

“That is a deft observation, Pepin,” Isolde praised. “Let us put the Gewinnen gathering aside for now. I think you did well not to vex Verbergan while advertising the information we have available. What did Charlotte have to say about Torsten’s request?”

“I have yet to speak with her,” Melchior admitted. He’d spent the rest of his day painting while Flautzeal borrowed his pen then doing the translation for Losrenger.

“We must coordinate. She will not take kindly to you moving behind her back. As this involves her engagement, it is imperative that we understand her perspective before we respond,” Isolde counseled and Melchior nodded.

“You must also contact Ehrenfest. It is the Archduke who will decide who Lady Charlotte marries,” Zargerecht added.

“I believe we should only contact Ehrenfest if Lady Charlotte wishes,” Isolde countered.

“This concerns the future of our duchy; it is not a decision to be made between children,” Zargerecht snapped. The room of children grew a bit colder.

“Lord Zargerecht, you speak of the future of Ehrenfest with one breath and decry it with the next,” Isolde said.

Melchior felt the tension creeping up his spine. He began to consider ways to separate his retainers to avoid further conflict. Just as he moved to speak, Pepin caught his eye and gave the smallest shake of his head. Melchior wasn't sure why Pepin wanted him to allow this disagreement to continue but he trusted his young attendant too much to ignore his advice.

“One day you will all be in positions to assist with such things but it is not now. You must listen to your elders' wisdom and move according to the will of the Archduke. Anything less is treason,” Zargerecht growled. His normal attendant smile was nowhere to be seen and his voice had a character Melchior had never known.

“If we are not in a position to make decisions and influence things then why do our moves matter. Why would the Archduke deign to read our reports or send us on information gathering missions. Why would we come here at all except to pray for Divine Protections and collect our Divine Wills. We are the future of Ehrenfest. We are the primary party concerned in these matters. Have you forgotten that Lady Charlotte is the heir. Would you give her sovereign control over our people but not trust her to choose her own partner?”

“Lord Melchior! Will you sit by while your retainer speaks of treason!” Zargerecht bellowed. All eyes snapped to the door. Even people not attempting to listen could have heard his shout.

“We will consult with Charlotte and with Ehrenfest. It is strange to assume she is not already in conference with Father,” Melchior replied. He found he could not properly follow Zargerecht’s logic. The Aub would have final say. Everyone knew that no matter what he said to Torsten of Berschman, until Sylvester said the same thing it would be useless. Treason felt like too strong a word to describe what Isolde suggested but he could not agree that his parents should not be consulted.

“And what will you say to these treasonous ideas?” Zargerecht pressed.

“I do not think Isolde speaks of treason. We all know that nothing I say to Torsten or anyone else can become action without Father's agreement. Charlotte also sends detailed reports every two days. I cannot imagine she is not in conference with Father and Mother about something so important. Going to her and allowing her to communicate our position shows trust. I want Charlotte to know I trust her and want to help her. Moving behind her back makes it seem like I do not believe her.” He tried to piece together his thoughts but it all felt too jumbled.

The word treason still echoed in his mind. Many of his retainer's families had escaped charges of treason within the last few years. He knew he couldn't allow rumors to spread about his retinue harboring traitors. “I would ask, Zargerecht, that you do not yell that word or even whisper it in connection with my retainers. They are loyal citizens of Ehrenfest and I will not have them tarnished by rumor mongering.” Only the warmth in his chest kept him from shivering. He’d never spoken to Zargerecht this way.

Zargerecht knelt. “My Lord, I deeply apologize for my uncouth display. I allowed my emotions to overcome me. It is unthinkable that I should fail at the very thing I have been charged to teach,” he said.

Melchior’s entire body tightened. He glanced at Pepin who strategically avoided his gaze. This wasn't what he was hoping for was it? Isolde also looked quite smug. He worried his retainers were pushing him to be mean to Zargerecht, his longest held friend. “It is alright Zargerecht. It is not possible to be perfect. Your loyalty to Ehrenfest is an example for all,” Melchior insisted. “Please rise. You need not bow to me.”

“That is untrue. I have grieved you. I must therefore show my contrition,” Zargerecht replied. He crossed his arms a final time before standing back up. Melchior looked at Isolde again, she’d managed to marshall her expression such that she gave nothing away. “The God of Darkness grows in strength, Lord Melchior. Is there anything else you wish to discuss before you retire?”

Melchior didn't feel like discussing anything anymore. He retreated for a moment into his mind and set about piecing a faestone back together. Just like when he began taking the tea parties with his siblings more seriously, he felt a deep sense of loss. He yearned for those simple and happy days when he could express joy and sadness freely and greet his siblings without considering whether they did or didn't support their shared ideals. Perhaps making good use of his scholars should not have been his focus. Isolde rarely seemed wrong but he also rarely completely understood what she was saying.

He was silent for a long time, longer than he realized, before he gave the final word. “Let us retire. I will write a report about the tea party. I have delayed communicating about the potential deal with Gausbuttel for too long already. I shall see you all when the Goddess of Light rises. He rose from his chair as Zargerecht pulled it back and walked out.

Kolteruze and Zargerecht quietly prepared him for bed. His hair was getting to a length that needed to be braided each night so he sat before his vanity and watched himself in the mirror. Perhaps because he was so young, he did not look as tired as he felt. Once he was ready, Kolteruze was dismissed. Zargerecht waited quietly until Sigsnyr arrived for his nightwatch.

Sigsnyr held a small bundle of papers and an unlit candle. “May I use your table?” he asked. It took Melchior a moment to pull away from his thoughts and give his consent. Sigsnyr regarded him with inquisitive eyes. “Are you alright?”

Melchior wasn't sure how he should respond. A proper Archduke Candidate would smile and insist they were well but he wanted dearly to be honest. He felt awful. The best he could manage was to shake his head.

Sigsnyr gestured for Melchior to join him at the table. They shuffled across the room together and sat down. It was cold with the fire so low and the night so frigid outside his windows.

“What worries you?” Sigsnyr asked. He transferred a flame to his own candle then extinguished Melchior’s.

“I do not know who is right. Is Zargerecht right or is Isolde right? Why does Pepin want me to allow them to fight?” Melchior said. He was too tired to obfuscate.

“It is a complex question. There may not be a true right and wrong. As for Pepin, he thinks mostly of your well being but he must have lingering pain as well. Perhaps Zargerecht has made passing comments questioning his or his family's loyalty or has been overly cautious of your retainers who are tarred by the guilt of association.”

“If he wanted me to speak with Zargerecht about something like that, why not just ask me?”

Sigsnyr rested his forearms on the table. “Would you believe him? Had you not seen it, would you believe Zargerecht could say such a thing?”

Melchior shook his head. He had seen it and he still could not believe it nor understand it. However if Pepin said it, he would struggle to question it. “All of your retainers have their own aims and reasons for serving you. While I believe that most of us are here because we are your friends and wish to serve you, we will never agree on everything,” Sigsnyr said. “Do you believe it is treasonous not to discuss Torsten with the Aub before meeting him?” Melchior shook his head. “ Do you think you should intentionally withhold that you are considering meeting him?” He shook his head again. “So you see neither is right or wrong just because they are opposed.”

“This is hard,” Melchior sighed. He rested his forehead on the table.

Sigsnyr gave him a pat on the head,” You need only do your best,” he said. Melchior wasn't sure his best was enough. He thought about Rozemyne’s charge that he work hard to understand his new environment. Perhaps because the dormitory looked so much like the castle, it didn't feel like a new place but it was different. His parents weren't there to talk to about his problems nor could he hide away in the Northern Building or the temple.

At least some things were the same. “Thank you for staying with me Sigsnyr,” Melchior said. He really looked at his head apprentice knight for the first time since he came in and was shocked for a moment. Where his own hair was carefully pulled back before bed, Sigsnyr chose to leave his loose. It rested on his shoulders and framed his face in shimmering silver waves. In the flickering candlelight his golden eyes took on an even softer glow. “You're really pretty, Sigsnyr,” Melchior observed.

The prior moment’s tenderness was immediately erased. Sigsnyr turned red and pulled his hand back. “What are you saying,” he muttered while averting his eyes. “It is time you went to bed. Zargerecht will be cross if you are groggy in the morning.”

Melchior hadn't meant to startle and immediately felt awkward. “I’m sorry. Good night,” he said and walked back over to go to bed.

Planning a Relaxing Day

Melchior woke up at his usual time to find Sigsnyr exactly where he’d left him. At some point, Sigsnyr ensconced his candle in a clear glass vial. Melchior was sure doing so would extinguish a candle but it seemed to have prevented it from consuming as much wax as a candle burning all night should have. After making use of the implements he tiptoed over to get a better look.

It only looked like Sigsnyr was awake from afar. He was resting his chin on his hand napping. Melchior did his best not to wake him and examined the magic vial for a few minutes. There were no magic circles visible on the glass or the small metal ring inset with tiny faestones so he made a mental note to ask about it later.

Having stayed up nearly all night and been awoken late by the arrival of Zargerecht, Sigsnyr was not in a good mood. Melchior and his other retainers all seemed pensive as well. The rest of the dormitory was in a flurry of activity. Apparently some amazing gossip had floated in even before breakfast.

“Hauchletze blew up their dormitory,” Isolde explained.

“That’s terrible!” Melchior cried.

“How did that happen?” Nikolaus asked, his eyes filled with both fear and curiosity.

“Worry not, no one was irreversibly harmed. It was contained mostly to their brewing room. But they are in no state to host the large tea party they were planning. They insinuated that there is a distinct and pervasive odor they are unable to pinpoint,” she explained.

It was hard not to giggle about their predicament since everyone was ok. “Should we send them perfume sachets?” Melchior joked mostly to Nikolaus.

“If it would help, perhaps,” he replied.

“You intend to send a gift?” Isolde asked.

“I don't know,” he glanced at Zargerecht. “Would it be rude to send sweet smelling sachets to help alleviate Hauchletze’s predicament?” he asked once the attendant came over.

Zargerecht considered this for a few moments. Sending someone something they needed was often seen as the best kind of gift but it might be interrupted as a question of their competency. “If you send a small sample and the recipes for their creation, it would likely be well received,” he replied.

“I only know recipes which use plants found in Ehrenfest. Sigsnyr do you know any more recipes, perhaps for plants found at the Royal Academy?”

Sigsnyr turned slowly and fixed an obviously fake smile to his lips. “I think I might. If it is your desire that I assemble these list, then I will see it done,” he said, his voice sounding overly saccharin.

“Please allow me to prepare the recipes and sachets. Sigsnyr has his final final exam today,” Kolteruze interjected. Both Zargerecht and Melchior looked at him with awe, one because he was volunteering to do work and the other because he’d just learned the Sigsnyr was going to pass his final class.

“Why didn't you say so, Sigsnyr.” Melchior granted Mestinora's blessing right then. He was about to add Greitechan and Gluckitat but Pepin spoke up.

“Sigsnyr is not the only exam taker today,” he noted.

“Thank you for saying so, Pepin,” Melchior said. He thought for a moment about Pepin's actions the previous night but thought it was more important at the moment to give the blessings. He stood from his chair attracting some attention.

“O Goddess of Wisdom, Mestinora…” he began and prayed for a blessing upon the test takers of Ehrenfest. Light flew around the room and off through the walls.

“Melchior, would you warn us before exploding with blessing?” Wilfried called.

“My apologies, dear brother. I simply wish to grant extra encouragement to the students,” Melchior explained calmly.

“Then I need not worry about your mana expenditure? Giving blessing requires quite a bit,” Wilfried added. He gave Melchior a more worried look then his questions warranted.

“It is no burden to bless the students of Ehrenfest,” Melchior assured him with a smile. He was not in the midst of another rapid decompression.

“That is good then. I am sure you have their thanks.” As the word ‘thanks’ left Wilfried's mouth an ordonnanz flew in and rested on Zargerecht's arm.

“This is Rozemyne, my scholar sends his thanks for your generous encouragement.”

Melchior sat back down and moved his arm to slightly cover his reddening cheeks. “You must respond, my lord,” Zargerecht said and offered the reformed bird.

“This is Melchior, I wish Lord Roderick the very best of luck,” he replied in as chipper a voice as he could muster.

“I will alert Lady Charlotte that there is no cause for concern,” Pepin said and rose from his seat.

Sigsnyr was also finished with his meal and began to return to his room to change. “My deepest thanks, Lord Melchior. I will attempt to secure grades worthy of your generosity,” he said and stalked away with his attendant.

“He seems cross,” Melchior muttered.

“He is nervous and did not get much sleep,” Zargerecht explained. “It is not appropriate to display this but you need not be harsh in this particular case.” He thought back to his own later years at the Royal Academy. Memorizing long lists of tea and food pairings had taken him ages as well.

Melchior nodded and turned back to Kolteruze, he’d been distracted by the blessing so they hadn't finalized their gifting plans. “Kolteruze, please prepare the recipes and sachets. If it is possible to suggest herbs available here at the Royal Academy, please do.”

“I will have them prepared by this evening. Do you have any plans for today?”

Melchior shook his head. He was greeting Gerianne in a little while but couldn't think of anything else. “Please ask the kitchens to set aside a light meal in case Gerianne was not able to have breakfast before coming,” he added. Kolteruze was going to ask who would skip breakfast just because they were returning to the Royal Academy then remembered that Melchior had been sent off without it for his dramatic arrival.

“I will see it done,” he said and left the dining room as well. As most everyone else was finished, Melchior’s retinue formed around him. He contemplated taking a short walk or moving to read in the common room when Pepin rushed back over.

“Lord Melchior, Lady Charlotte would like to speak with you. It is urgent,” said the apprentice. He was even followed by one of Charlotte's attendants. The little third year, bowed and began leading Melchior toward a meeting room before he’d even verbally agreed.

Of course, an urgent summons from his sibling was never something Melchior would ignore, especially when he was otherwise unengaged. Though it was urgent, it didn't seem to be secret so all their retainers joined them. The attendant’s meeting room had gained bolts of fabric and a small bookshelf in the past couple of weeks.

“Dear Brother, it is with utmost sadness that I must inform you that the tea party we were planning to attend together, that I might introduce you to my friends, has been canceled. No doubt you heard about the tragedy at Hauchletze dormitory,” she began.

“I am sad to hear we will not be socializing together. I was very much looking forward to it,” he replied.

Charlotte nodded and looked as though a thought had just struck her, “There is another gathering, more intimate in nature, but also between friends, that we might attend. It is just that it was intended to be a gathering of sisters, you see.”

“Of sisters?”

“That is correct.”

Melchior brightened “Will Rozemyne also be there?”

“My friends hoped we might introduce our younger sisters that we could offer each other assistance in protecting and guiding them in the particular ways which Flutrane's subordinates must move,” Charlotte explained. “Rozemyne will not be here next year to offer her support.”

He felt a bit less excited then confused. “But o… you do not have a younger sister here at the Royal Academy,” he noted.

“Yes but I am such good friends with Franziska of Kirschnereit I could not withhold my support for little Cornelia. As we were both to attend the gathering at Hauchletze, I do not doubt she would welcome you considering the circumstances. You do not mind attending the rare all girls tea party?”

“No, I do not mind. If they are your friends, I should like to meet them. Would Franziska be alright with a boy attending her sisters’ tea?”

Charlotte smiled slyly. “It is important to her that I attend, she will do me this small favor.” Melchior wasn't sure why Charlotte seemed so willing to impose.

“If you are sure, then I would be happy to attend,” Melchior promised.

Charlotte clasped her hands before her and stood up, “Wonderful. We shall go together after lunch.”

The blood drained from Melchior's face. That would give him no time to prepare a gift or gather information. “That is too soon,” he muttered to himself.

“Dear, brother. You need not worry about a gift. I will provide for us both. It is a casual event between friends, all from duchy's close to our rank or borders. Have you not been collecting information on them all year? Do not worry,” she encouraged, then took her leave. Zargerecht spoke quickly with Pepin then sent him hastening after with questions.

Chapter Text

No Time To Prepare

Since most of Melchior's retainers were already present they began an emergency meeting right away.

“You should have gotten all the information before agreeing,” Isolde said.

“It is as you say! What will I do? Why did I spend so much time drawing animals instead of socializing?” he wailed.

“You are forgetting poise, Lord Melchior,” Zargerecht said.

Melchior could not manage to sit up straighter. He envisioned appearing before Charlotte’s friends as the first flight of a fledgling³⁷. “Steel yourself, my lord. We will meet this challenge together,” Isolde declared. Her eyes were shining and cheeks were pink with exhilaration. Melchior also could not sympathize with her enthusiasm.

“Yes, do not fear. You are not alone,” Zargerecht assured him. Melchior looked from Isolde to Zargerecht and back. It suddenly felt strange for them to agree on something. Still he took heart in knowing they were both on his side.

“We will work together. Thank you. How do we begin?” he asked Zargerecht.

Zargerecht did not defer to the apprentices as he normally would. There was no time for a teaching moment. “I have sent Pepin to retrieve the list of attendees and any information Charlotte is willing to give. While we wait, we can discuss the only duchy we know will be there and who you will take with you. You are in the unique position to bring a party of mostly girls to this all girls tea party. Your host will appreciate it as she is being imposed upon already.”

Isolde and Zipporah disguised looks of surprise. Zargerecht was generally quick to dismiss Melchior's female retainers. He clearly saw them as temporary compared to their male counterparts. Even in light of the situation, it was amazing that he suggested they were an asset of some kind. Theodore looked sullen.

“Then I will bring Zipporah, Isolde, and Gerianne. I do not have a female attendant,” he mused. He considered whether he should hire one.

“Zipporah is not sufficient for your protection. I recommend taking Sigsnyr as well. His exams will be finished by then. As for your attendant. You will not be hosting so Pepin can manage on his own,” Zargerecht explained.

“If Sigsnyr is going…” Theodore began. Zargerecht gave him a sharp look. He did not want to explain in front of Melchior why Sigsnyr was a reasonable choice to guard him during an all girls tea party.

“I would like to bring Kolteruze as well but if you suggest I only have the two of you, I will take your advice,” Melchior said.

Zargerecht smiled and very gently said, “I will not be going. It is a space for women. Your attempts to cater to your hosts comforts would be wasted if you brought an adult man.” Melchior went even paler. He couldn't even begin to describe his fear. “As I said Pepin, who is still a young boy, can manage on his own and won't draw anymore attention then yourself.”

“But Zargerecht, you said I would not be alone,” Melchior whimpered.

Zargerecht gestured broadly. “What do you mean to say? Will you not be attended by your trusted retainers?” Isolde and Zipporah put on their most confident faces.

“We will be there to support you. There is no need to fear,” Zipporah declared.

Melchior took several deep breaths. He did believe in Pepin's abilities but he couldn't imagine attending such an important event without his head attendant. He tried to take heart from Isolde and Zipporah. They hadn't been serving him for very long, but they were still very skilled and he had no reason to doubt their dedication.

Pepin soon arrived with what information he could gather. The tea party would be attended by Gilessenmeyer, Lehmbruck, and Vogtwerk and hosted by Kirschnereit. There would be pairs of older and younger siblings. “Vogtwerk only has one Archduke Candidate,” Melchior noted. He looked to Isolde who confirmed and noted that there family didn't include any archnoble girls either.

“Why would their Archductal family include archnobles?” Flautzeal asked.

“They are a branch family from Dunkelfelger given authority over the lesser duchy as a reward for their support in recovering the Grutrissheit. Most of the new Aub's children were too old to join the Archduke Candidate course,” she explained.

Melchior felt even more nervous. He’d only known about their one Archduke Candidate, not her older archnoble brothers. Vogtwerk shared a border with Ehrenfest yet he knew so little about them. They just didn't have many notable land formations or monuments.

“They are also the outlier in terms of rank. I don't doubt they had to work hard to receive an invitation.”

“Do we know anything else?” Melchior looked from scholar to scholar.

“I know that Lehmbruck produces more skilled drummers than other duchies of similar population,” Flautzeal offered.

“I have been socializing with Hauchletze and the greater duchies more than Gilessenmeyer. Vogtwerk has been difficult to meet with as their scholars attend different gatherings to those in higher ranks. I know that Beatrice and Samira are on good terms at the moment but Gilessenmeyer is as famous for its Archduchess as the bitter struggles fought to become one,” Isolde replied.

“What did Charlotte say, Pepin?”

“She ‘does not wish to insult your skill by relaying those facts which are commonly known’, so other than this list, she provided nothing.” Melchior was stunned. He didn't know if he should be flattered that she thought he was skilled enough to have enough information to conduct himself at an impromptu tea party. It somehow didn't feel like a real compliment.

“There is no need to consider it so deeply, Lord Melchior. She is testing you or preparing you for the Interduchy Tournament,” Zargerecht explained.

Having his fear confirmed was not a comfort to Melchior. “Why?” he asked. Had she heard about his abundant failings and no longer had faith in him? She had told him to consider how to improve and he’d never returned his answer.

Zargerecht tried to console him. “I do not think it is out of malice. There is still time before the Interdutchy Tournament to collect more information. Compared to a tea party between her friends, the stakes there are considerably higher.”

“She does not seem worried you will embarrass her,” Pepin added.

Melchior spent a minute considering this before second and a half bell rang. “We forgot Gerianne,” Melchior cried and made to get up.

“You do not need to greet her as she does you. Send one of your knights,” Zargerecht said with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Nikolaus, go and greet Gerianne. Bring her back here. We don't have much time to plan,” Melchior instructed. Nikolaus immediately left to accomplish his task. The entire dormitory was buzzing with activity but no one looked as anxious as those in the room he’d just left. Upon entering the waiting room for the teleportation hall, he took some deep breaths. His previous years had been trying in their own ways. It was easier to avoid mean comments and pointed jeers while Melchior was around but his tiny charge brought other worries.

Gerianne entered the waiting room looking ebullient, followed by her attendant, carrying her shield. It was still only large enough to cover her face and neck but she wore it proudly along with her knight uniform. When she saw only Nikloaus she deflated a bit.

“Welcome back Gerianne, I’ve come to retrieve you,” Nikolaus said. He gave and received a nod of acknowledgement from the attendant and began leading her charge away.

“Perhaps I should not have expected so large a welcome for only myself. Is everyone else busy?” Gerianne asked.

“Very busy. In fact, we are in the midst of an emergency meeting. Otherwise, I think Lord Melchior would have come to welcome you himself. Unless Zargerecht told him not to,” he explained.

“Shouldn't we hurry?” she looked ready to charge into battle that very moment.

Nikolaus shook his head. “There is nothing we can do except stand there. Even Isolde is unable to do much.”

Gerianne’s eyes grew wide. There had thus far been few problems Isolde was not equipped to handle with aplomb. “This is not the place to discuss it,” she noted. He shook his head again. “Have you been well?”

“I cannot complain. I don't have to go for training very much either. How was the Winter Playroom?”

“It is full of children,” she scoffed. Nikolaus couldn't help giving her a touch of side eye. “Do not look at me that way. I understand work and proper comportment,” she insisted.

“Yes, yes. You are the picture of a diligent knight,” he teased. She pouted in the way only someone as young as her would. Nikolaus wondered if his younger sister might have grown up to be like Gerianne.

“Nikolaus!” Kolteruze called from down the hall. He walked over quickly. “I have been looking for everyone. I thought you would all be here to welcome Gerianne. Also, Welcome Gerianne.”

“Thank you Lord Kolteruze, could you not send an ordonnanz?” she said.

“Just Kolteruze is ideal. We are coworkers,” he reminded. “I hadn't gotten to that stage yet.”

“We are in the attendant’s meeting room.”

Kolteruze kneaded the bridge of his nose. “It is not for all the attendants. Only Bertilde’s devotees. I saw Charlotte leave some time ago.”

“It is best that we just go. We should not discuss it here,” Nikolaus replied.

“Lead on,” Kolteruze said with an elegant gesture. Nikolaus wondered how attendants managed to move so smoothly as he walked quickly ahead.

“How are the sachets coming along?” Nikolaus asked.

“I have sent some knights to gather a few materials. I need Lord Melchior’s permission to use his drying box if they are to be completed by this evening. Though, if this meeting is so dire, I fear there won't be time,” Kolteruze explained.

Nikolaus stopped before the door and tapped. “You should have time after lunch,” he noted.

“You seem to think no plans will develop,” Kolteruze began to say as a terrified looking Pepin opened the door. He was shaking and his face was pale. Nikolaus stepped inside quickly but noticed no immediate danger.

“Kolteruze,” Pepin whispered. “Save me.”

Kolteruze couldn't voice his exasperation since Melchior was busily asking Isolde and Zargerecht if any of the facts he knew about various duchies' climates were reasonable topics for tea party conversation. He looked at the knights. Theodore looked like he did when being left out of guard duty while Zipporah looked more motivated than any situation generally called for. Flautzeal was staring blankly into space, no doubt questioning his place in this retinue. Strangely, Zargerecht was actively attempting to trade information with Isolde and planning for an event.

“What is going on,” he whispered to Pepin who still looked anxious enough to collapse.

“Lord Melchior was invited to an all girls tea party with Lady Charlotte,” Pepin said.

“If it is for only girls then why is Melchior invited?” Pepin began to relate the series of happenings leading to the decision to send him in by himself. “Do not worry. You do fine serving work,” Kolteruze encouraged and moved to stand in his normal spot behind Melchior. The younger apprentice followed behind like a frightened duckling.

“We should ask some other scholars what they know. They have had longer to collect the most common knowledge,” Zargerecht counseled.

“All the scholars I’m on such terms with are Charlotte's scholars,” Isolde sighed. “This event has shown me the errors of my approach. From the depths of my heart, I apologize for my ineptitude. I will improve Lord Melchior,” she declared.

“You are not inept, Isolde. It is also my fault for being unable to give direction. Had I another, older scholar to train us, we might have avoided this conundrum,” Melchior replied.

Flautzeal was finally drawn from his trance. “I will ask Lord Veremund what he knows. We can rely upon him to exercise discretion. He is also in his fifth year.”

“Very good idea, Flautzeal. I will see what I have in my notes. I may have recorded something interesting and simply forgotten,” Isolde said.

“Kolteruze, you often collect information. What do you know about these duchies?” Zargerecht asked. It didn't seem like a teaching question so Kolteruze answered honestly.

“I do not know how much use it will be but: Lady Aldegandt dislikes the cold and misses wearing Leidenschaft blue. That is not a euphemism, she just likes the color,” he began. He detailed some of the particular food likes and dislikes of the attendees as well as the fact that Beatrice was jealous of her sister's hair color. “That is neither here nor there, but consider withholding comment or compliment.” It was all information but Melchior wasn't sure it was useful.

It dawned on him then. Though he knew the tea party preparation framework, he knew less about what was actually important. At the tea parties he attended with Lady Florencia, most of the talk was about the children's grades and how difficult it was to get someone or other to practice harspiel. None of that seemed important but neither did Gausbuttel’s weather until Konradin expressed interest in the Spring Summoning. He thought for a moment that he might talk about rituals, then remembered how disappointed Samira seemed by his priestly profession. Would he have nothing to talk about.

“I think you can discuss rituals if someone asks but its best not to bring it up. You should focus more on what you wish to avoid talking about and what questions you want answered,” Zargerecht said. “In fact, I believe we should release your retainers to prepare. There is yet time before lunch. You should make notes about our discussion so far so you can better remember later. There is no use in further anxiety.”

Melchior still felt quite attached to his anxiety. Still, he accepted Zargerecht’s advice and sent everyone on their tasks.

Flautzeal left this meeting feeling rather poorly while Pepin had yet to recover. He’d promised to speak with some of the older scholars but since so few people in Ehrenfest were truly passionate about music, he hadn't made much effort to get to know them. His older cousin wasn't terribly happy about being summoned in the middle of the day but he helped dress Flautzeal warmly and gave him a few words of consolation. “You have yet to even begin the scholars course. Perfection requires practice. You will master this work in time.” Flautzeal thanked him for his assistance and hurried to the freezing training room.

He was happy to find Veremund where he expected. “Lord Flautzeal, what brings you here?” He asked and made a bit of space on the big chair. It was beginning to fill with furs strangely enough. Flautzeal snuggled into the fuzzy pile to stay a bit warmer.

“We are in need of your assistance once again. Do you know very much about Gilessenmeyer, Kirschnereit, Lehmbruck, or Vogtwerk?”

“You want information? That generally comes at a price,” Veremund teased.

Flautzeal detected none of this mirth and asked seriously. “What would be appropriate compensation for your knowledge?”

Veremund laughed. “I jest. If Lord Melchior is asking, I don't mind sharing what I know. It isn't all that uncommon of knowledge though.”

“Isolde has been socializing with the greater duchies while I have been no help at all. We know very little,” Flautzeal admitted.

“I doubt you were wholly useless. You Klavier are such an industrious bunch.”

Flautzeal shook his head. “I only know other musicians. I’ve yet to begin mingling with proper scholars. I’ve yet to begin the scholars course. As a scholar, I am wholly useless.”

Veremund could not set down his brewing stick but he gave Flautzeal a bit more of his attention. “Knowledge is very domain specific. Even scholars have specialities and those specialities are further divided. You are Melchior’s personal musician, your knowledge pertains to that domain. If you wish to expand into a new domain, it is as returning to the bosom of Entrindunge³⁸. You must stumble all over again.”

Flautzeal shivered. He wasn't used to doing things he could not excel at. Pledging himself to Melchior had been a rather impulsive thing and now he was forced to make good on his promise to deliver the secrets of Yurgenschmidt without any idea on how to find them.

“If you like, I can introduce you to some scholars I know. There is a pre-tournament gathering next week. Most of my acquaintances are more research focused but they are all mednobles so you won't need to feel overly stressed.”

“I have yet to begin the course,” Flautzeal replied. He did want to try meeting scholars but it felt wrong to attend when he wasn't one yet.

“Things need not be light or dark. You intend to become a scholar so we will welcome you.”

“Thank you, Lord Veremund. I shall be in your care,” Flautzeal said with a smile.

“You may address me without a title. Have we not worked together a great deal already? And our families are close friends,” he rumbled goodnaturedly. “Now, what do I know about Kirschnereit,” he began.

*

By the time lunch was near, Melchior had written out an outline of what they knew and received several reports from his scholars and Kolteruze. Isolde included diagrams of the family trees of those involved as well as some information she’d acquired in exchange for volunteering her hair for an experimental style.

Flautzeal brought this and the information he learned by speaking with Veremund. He sat by the fire and asked for leave to attend a scholar's gathering the following week with the older boy. “Of course Flautzeal. I’m impressed that you are already beginning to socialize with the scholars,” Melchior complimented.

Zargerecht had a bit more information on Old Zaugsuas, now Vogtwerk. Before the civil war it was well regarded for its metal working. “This is a holdover from the time of Eisenrich. Their capital was once a trade city on the route between the mines and the Sovereignty. With such ready access to zaubertine, iron, and silver, they developed exceptional skill. Much was lost during the civil war and resulting famine.”

“I hope some of the craftspeople survived,” Melchior said sadly. The old Zaugsuas provinces had so few commoners, he worried the cities might be much the same.

“It is likely their cities fared better. They are directly south of one of Klassenberg’s largest cities so grain grown in the region is often purchased at so high a price, those that grow it cannot afford to eat it but skilled craftspeople would have better material conditions,” Zargerecht explained.

“Why would starving people sell their grain?” Melchior asked.

“If those who rule them left them no choice.”

“How awful.”

“Indeed,” Zargerecht said. “You might ask about their metal working industry. Perhaps it has survived.”

Melchior added this to his possible list of topics which thus far included local delicacies, textile trends, and famous landmarks.

Something to Calm the Nerves

Melchior’s retinue reconvened at lunch looking thoroughly exhausted. Even Isolde seemed to be fueled only by her enthusiasm for socializing.

“What happened while I was gone,” Sigsnyr asked Zipporah. He was bouncing around happily having passed his exam.

“We have been invited to a tea party this afternoon,” she said and began to explain the sour mood.

“That’s a devious move from Charlotte. Lord Melchior is likely to take preparations for the tournament much more seriously from now on but…” he couldn't say she was being cruel because he couldn't speak ill of an Archduke Candidate next to her loyal brother. He also felt that cruelty was too strong a descriptor. It was a prank at most, if a bit meanspirited, and would teach a lesson not soon forgotten.

“I think it is merely a consequence of the circumstances. She believes it is very important to make introductions for her brother but the Hauchletze event is no longer occurring and there isn't time to plan for an event to replace it. I also think she believes Melchior is answerable to the task,” Zipporah said. “He believes he knows nothing, but he knows a great deal and won't have to produce conversation all on his own.”

Sigsnyr looked at his young lord who seemed to be shaking all but imperceptibly despite plastering a winning smile to his face. “Have you said as much?”

“There is no breath for the words³⁹,” she replied. They spoke a bit about his exam then left a bit early to prepare for the tea party, leaving Theodore as the primary guard. “You can take Nikolaus on an excursion,” Zipporah encouraged as his pouty mood had yet to lift.

“Perhaps, we can see what Veremund is low on,” he muttered.

Melchior took a bit of time after lunch to get dressed. Charlotte never wore her uniform if she didn't need to so Zargerecht prepared a nice outfit.

“Would you like to wear the capelet?” he asked.

“Wouldn't it be too formal?”

“Prince Hildebrand wears them even to classes. I don't think it would seem so out of place.” Zargerecht placed it near Melchior’s shoulder and contemplated how it would fit with the rest of the outfit. It so far consisted of the compulsory blue tunic in a lighter shade, dark blue pants, and black boots.

“I do not want to seem to be imitating royalty too closely. It will also be too many colors as with the dinner,” Melchior replied. He looked at the little cape and sighed. He’d gotten so little use out of the very kind gift. “I will use the red tape today,” he decided. Sigsnyr gifts were turning out to be very useful. Though he’d yet to get much use out of the green and white ones, the red was in constant rotation. He would need to thank Sigsnyr more comprehensively in Spring.

As he regarded himself in the mirror, he wasn't sure if he looked good enough to stand next to Charlotte but he wasn't all that unhappy. It would still be nice to add more color to his wardrobe.

He met his female retainers on the landing and they processed to the dormitory entrance together. “I will rely on your service another time, Theodore. I have found no fault in it thus far and look forward to your continued good work,” Melchior encouraged his sullen looking medknight.

“Thank you lord Melchior. I apologize for being unsuited to follow you everywhere,” Theodore replied. He stood next to Nikolaus. “We will do some gathering in your absence.”

Melchior gave him an encouraging nod. He looked over the rest of his retinue. Gerianne had elected to pull her hair into a serious braided ponytail while Sigsnyr was using a softer, loose bundle bound only at the nape of his neck. It would be a scandalous treatment for an archnoble lady but gave the young man a gentler appearance, perfect for blending into an all women's space.

Zipporah’s looks were the most surprising. She'd treated her hair with a touch of oil and wore a fancier version of the normal female knight uniform. The skirt had slightly more volume and the normally utilitarian sleeves were looser down to the elbow and sported a decorative slash secured with fine net to prevent snagging while allowing white underlayers to peek through.

“I’ve never seen such a pretty knight uniform,” Melchior cooed. Gerianne also looked on with a touch of awe and a touch of jealousy.

“They are mostly for ceremonial occasions. When one’s lord is dressing formally, the usual uniform looks shabby by comparison. Or so Aunt Elvira insists. It is a trend borrowed from Klassenberg,” Zipporah explained.

“It is a shame you had no time to set your curls as well. You would be even more stunning,” Sigsnyr noted.

Zipporah had been lightly pink with shyness. She now turned a darker shade and scowled. “Why do you mock me so? I am doing my utmost to do credit.”

She turned away from Sigsnyr's annoyed expression. “It was not mockery,” he muttered.

Kolteruze retied Pepin's neckerchief and slightly adjusted his brooch, more to encourage his junior than because anything was out of place. “Perhaps we attendants should devise a special uniform as well,” he mused.

“It is expensive,” Zipporah warned. Pepin paled a little but Zargerecht smiled nostalgically.

“We can discuss such things later. For now, remember to maintain your comportment,” he reminded. “Lord Melchior, if you behave as though Lady Florencia is beside you and all your interlocutors are Lady Philine, no one will be able to find fault in your performance.”

“I will remember your advice,” Melchior promised. He took several deep breaths and clenched his fists to encourage himself.

“It seems you are ready for battle,” called Charlotte as she arrived with her retinue. She was predictably well dressed in the divine colors of winter. Her dress was less formal, having only a single inner and outer sleeve, and her hair pin was a single red flower with white dangles. They wouldn't be matching this time. Melchior was more disappointed than he thought he would be.

“I have done my best to prepare with the time afforded. May my conduct prove worthy of your praise, dear sister,” Melchior replied with forced calm. He stood as confidently as he could manage despite his racing heart.

Charlotte gave him the gentlest pat so as not to mess up his hair. “It always does,” she said, earning a bashful smile from her younger brother. She took strength from his adorable display and turned to address their assembled retainers. “Though our plans were altered at the last moment, I know all of you will perform your duties with the excellence nurtured by Ehrenfest's students. We will be meeting with those we know well. Do not slacken as our battle shall be as fierce as ever,” she orated.

Isolde’s eyes sparkled and she bounced elegantly with anticipation. She was wearing her scholar's uniform with her cape and brooch and a white flower in her pale blue-green hair set with braids in demure swags over loose tresses. She seemed to remember something and pulled a light blue flower from her pouch. It matched Melchior’s tunic almost exactly.

“Since you only have the two hair pins, you can borrow this one,” she whispered as she placed it into Gerianne’s hair. Gerianne gave her thanks and noted that the color was too close to matching Isolde's hair for such a fashion conscious girl to wear.

“Shall we depart, dear brother. I hear it takes you some time to traverse the halls,” she teased.

Melchior offered his arm. “We are only traveling to Kirschnereit’s tea party room, no? There cannot be too many people between here and there,” he said as they walked out into the hall.

“Oh we have some time before fifth bell, I thought we might tour around a bit. Won't you introduce me to your acquaintances?”

Melchior controlled his urge to groan. He’d forgotten to ask after the exact time of the tea party. Isolde and Pepin looked similarly afflicted, having also failed to collect this information. “I would be delighted, dear sister. Shall we make our way past the library?”

“I thought we might see the Scholar Building. I have so little reason to visit normally,” she replied. Melchior also had little reason to visit the Scholar Building. He worried he wouldn't know as many people in the halls leading to it but this proved to be untrue.

As they walked arm in arm, many people who knew Melchior gave him smiles. He returned his usual welcoming expression while Charlotte offered either perfunctory courtesy or a welcome of her own. Only those graced with warmth by both Archduke Candidates were bold enough to approach.

People seemed very happy of a chance to meet Charlotte. Melchior introduced those he knew with little facts he remembered about them and left space for those he knew less well or had never spoken to before to talk a bit about themselves. As they were enroute to the scholars’ domain, more students had interesting research to explain or ambitions toward becoming scholars. Isolde was even able to speak for a girl from Hauchletze she was acquainted with who was beside herself with joy to explain her explorations into the exciting world of preserving flowers with time stopping magic. “I was able to make purpose built boxes out of enchanted glass so the flowers may be viewed while in suspended animation,” she declared. There was no time to hear about how one made mana-infused glass or formed it into a box so he expressed his delight at the possibility of enjoying a preserved bouquet deep into the winter.

“I have seen it,” Isolde whispered. “It is not at all like a cloche, you can only barely see into it. She has broken any large pieces she attempted to brew during mixing.”

“How disappointing,” Charlotte said. Melchior wondered how many fun magic tools were impossible to make because knocking them around in a brewing pot would break them before they could be used.

Once they were actually in the Scholar Building, there were far fewer people and all of them were either walking purposefully or engaged in deep conversations. The only person they met who wanted to talk seemed to appear out of the walls to waylay them.

“Lady Charlotte, it is rare to see you in the Scholar Building,” began Professor Gundolf.

Gundolf didn't teach any first year classes. The only reason Melchior knew him was because he’d been described along with warnings not to engage him during their meeting after the Fellowship Gatherings.

“I offer greetings, Professor Gundolf. Have you met my younger brother,” she presented Melchior with a gesture but didn't let go of his arm. As Melchior couldn't kneel while she was holding him, he decided that he was not required to.

“I offer greetings on this afternoon held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth,” he intoned instead.

“There is no need to be so formal, Lord Melchior. Between Professors and students we have an understanding as peers seeking knowledge together,” Gundolf replied. It felt strange somehow, that this professor, whom he’d never met, knew his name. “I’ve been hoping to speak with you Lady Charlotte. I hear you've taken up the sword. Have you any ambitions to branch into research as well?”

Charlotte gave a refined laugh. “Oh I am only getting a bit of exercise. Fifth year classes leave one feeling rooted in place.” One of her retainers stepped away to send an ordonnanz.

“It is good to move the body but one must also flex the mind. We did joint research with Ehrenfest a couple of years ago. I hear you've developed new faepaper, unique to your duchy, in the intervening years. Perhaps a new collaboration is due between us,” he pressed.

Melchior hadn't heard much about this research but he knew to be cautious of other duchies learning too much about their production methods and this professor in particular. “I heard much about what Ehrenfest learned during your research but was unable to gain a full picture of Drewanchel’s contributions. I do not doubt we simply lacked the resources to utilize your discoveries but I would still love to hear about them,” Melchior said. Charlotte squeezed his arm a bit. He glanced over, unsure if he’d said the wrong thing or gave timely assistance.

“Well, Drewanchel has the very best laboratories and ready access to a great many materials. Anyone would struggle to recreate our work. We managed to develop instruments which play themselves using greatly improved faepaper.” He continued to wax poetically about their facilities and added small facts about the paper research. Melchior was still unsure whether he’d made a good decision even though Gundolf had stopped pressuring them into a new research agreement.

A slightly disheveled looking boy in freshly Waschened brewing clothes and a bright purple neckerchief appeared from around a corner with a pristinely neat attendant from Alexandria. He gave his greetings to Charlotte and Gundolf before breathlessly entreating for their release. “Lady Rozemyne has grown worried as our agreed meeting time falls further away. I was sent to ensure you remember the path,” he said. He glanced at Melchior and seemed like he wanted to give proper deference but bravely performed his role nonetheless.

“If you are here to meet with Hirschur, do not let me keep you, she has so little time left as it is,” Gundolf said. He looked both smug and sad at the same time. Melchior wondered how close he was with Professor Hirschur to have such complicated feelings.

“I am glad we could finally meet, Professor Gundolf. I pray that you live well with the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves our threads of fate together once again.” Melchior intoned and moved to guide Charlotte away.

“May our threads be woven tightly together, scions of Ehrenfest,” he called after them as they hurried down the hall

“Thank you Lord Evones, we might have been trapped until dinner without your intervention,” Charlotte said once they were well away from Gundolf’s lab. Evones blushed deeply and seemed unable to respond as he led them quickly toward Hirschur's rooms.

They entered a sparklingly clean space tended by pastel shumils and happy looking magic tools. Melchior wasn't sure what made the squat little machines seem so cheerful but they brought a smile to his lips. There was even a little disk scurrying over the floor, hunting dust motes. Along the walls were rows and rows of neat and well ordered records. Rozemyne stood in the center ready to welcome them while Hirschur continued to bend over a brewing pot.

“Welcome in, Charlotte and Melchior too. It is good to see you,” she said.

Melchior brightened even more as he basked in her beaming smile. “Rozemyne! Thank you for having us and for saving us from Professor Gundolf.” Charlotte released his arm so he could hurry over. Only Gerianne followed behind while Zipporah took up a place along the wall with the other guard knights. Sigsnyr stood frozen in place, his eyes unable to rest on any one thing.

“I’m so happy you’ve come. This is a most wonderful surprise,” she said and took Charlotte's hands. She squeezed lightly before letting go.

“I apologize for our tardiness, you sent your invitation so long ago and it has taken us this long to come,” Charlotte said.

Melchior let out a small cry, he’d completely forgotten about her invitation to visit before Hirschur retired and dismantled her laboratory to move to Alexandria. Charlotte and Rozemyne shared restrained giggles. “Have you met Evones, Melchior? He was so taken with your drawings of magic tools,” Rozemyne gestured to the boy from Hauchletze.

Evones knelt immediately, “May I pray for a blessing in honor of the serendipitous meeting ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe, the God of Life?” he intoned. Melchior gave his permission and received his blessing. “I am Evones, a mednoble from Hauchletze, I’ve had the honor to receive Professor Hirschur’s mentorship,” he explained.

“Evones is very skilled at making magic tools more beautiful and easy to use. He is a pioneer in the field of ‘Ergonomics’,” Rozemyne declared.

“She greatly enjoys giving things fancy and bizarre names,” Evones sighed.

“She is right though. His work is exceptional. Will your guard knight be alright Lord Melchior. He seems to be faintly glowing,” Hirschur said.

Melchior noticed Sigsnyr still standing awestriken in the middle of the room. Zipporah hurried over and pulled his magic tool from one of his pouches. “Sister, can Sigsnyr be given leave to look around. He is deeply passionate about magic tools. Most of those I drew belonged to him,” Melchior asked.

Rozemyne looked at the knight through slightly squinty eyes. “You may look around. Be sure not to touch anything you do not understand. Some things can cause harm if energized unknowingly,” she said with a practiced air. She turned back to her siblings. “He reminds me of Lord Justus somehow. I hope his curiosity is not as lethal,” she muttered.

“Sigsnyr is very respectful even when he finds things engrossing. You need not worry,” Melchior assured her. Though, watching the knight move in a daze from magic tool to magic tool and follow the dust hunting disk around while clutching his mana draining tool made Melchior feel less sure.

“Lord Evones, would you do us the abundant kindness of giving him a tour? Bettina would you like a tour as well,” Charlotte called to her scholar who also looked intrigued by the laboratory.

“It would be my pleasure, Lady Charlotte,” he said with another blush and a slight bow.

“You are always so polite to Charlotte, why don't you treat me that way?” Rozemyne complained.

Evones just shook his head and said something about wasting the gods gifts under his breath. “Perhaps it is better that ceremony does not impact your work,” Charlotte offered. “You can always demand his servility if you truly desire it,” she added.

Rozemyne paled. “I could not lord over him like a blonde ‘Christmas’ tree,” she said. Melchior wanted to ask about this new euphemism but was interrupted by the appearance of an ordonnanz. Pepin and Charlotte held out their arms for it to land but it chose to perch on a little box with a bent stick propped up above it. Rozemyne tapped its beak. It spoke its message, a note about new administrative documents, only once. She tapped it again to listen for a second time and made a little note in a diptych resting beside the box.

“What is this?” Sigsnyr asked, having brought the tour group over to examine it.

“It is an ordonnanz receiver. Special ‘homing’ ordonnanz are attuned to it. Any one sent from here will always return regardless of the intended recipient. We have yet to develop a way to protect messages from unknowing senders being disclosed. At the moment we try to have our ordonnanz returned if for some reason they are swapped during use,” Evones explained. He opened a little drawer which contained nine spaces for ordonnanz.

The message bird hopped into a little door and a moment later an ordonnanz rolled out of another hole. “When the tool is active and within range, ordonnanz intended for its master will arrive here. If they are not of the proper type or are registered to a different ‘roost’ they come out here.” Sigsnyr vibrated but managed not to reach out and grab it.

“Does it require a schtappe?” he asked. Evones explained that no one without one had yet attempted to use it.

He was followed to a shelf then back to the table as he retrieved a smaller box. Once placed down it was clearly a smaller version of the ‘homing’ ordonnanz tool. “You cannot touch that one. I doubt you could override Aub Alexandria but why take such a risk. This is a more portable version.” He produced a coppery coin. “If you dye this you can move it between boxes. When an activated coin is used this white strip will display the owner's eye and mana color.”

Sigsnyr took the coin and poured mana in immediately, he examined the box all over and slid the drawer in and out. “Can you use normal ordonnanz?”

“They will always be rejected but you can place them back into the drawer manually.”

“Why have the drawer system? You could simplify the design with a receiving plate and a place to hold an ordonnanz as you send it or a feed ramp to store them and deliver them to the perch, perhaps with a wire ramp to return them directly. Then you would have no need for the door, which is fun so perhaps it has a purpose, or special ordonnanz which risk stealing messages,” Sigsnyr said at a lightning pace.

“I’ve considered several designs with similar features to those you speak of. We settled on this one because it absolves the user of the hassle of dealing with all the faestones directly and allows you to enjoy the birds as though they are mere pets. It is both elegant and functional. Though your catch ramp idea is intriguing,” Evones replied. They continued trading possible enhancements and even sent an ordonnanz to Theodore who replied in a short tone that he was in the middle of something. Sigsnyr replayed the message almost a dozen times as the box and specialized ordonnanz allowed for infinite play.

“What happens if there is already a message?”

“The large perch can accommodate three birds, the small one two, any others simply circle in the air and await their turn,”

“They do not land as normal?”

“That would require the user to futz about with the faestones and squint at the magic circles to discern which are which.”

“What if the ordonnanz runs out of mana while waiting?”

Evones flipped the box over to reveal the line of faestones embedded in the bottom. “The box itself provides additional power to preserve them. Three birds can remain formed for three days using the large box.”

“How much do the schematics cost? For the small box and the switch contraption from earlier?” Sigsnyr asked and began to negotiate for several magic tool recipes.

While the magic tool enthusiasts chatted happily, Bettina took notes. Melchior talked to Rozemyne about her sorting system and petted the shumils. Rozemyne also shared the exciting story of how Evones had caused a smelly explosion in the Hauchletze brewing room using an overzealous version of a dust collector. “I warned him it would cause a vacuum and ‘cavitation’ bubble.” she said.

“It was not the implosion itself that caused real damage but the ingredients and potions being pulled from their shelves,” he called.

The siblings all laughed and expressed condolences for the loss of ingredients. Melchior had forgotten all about his harrowing future until fifth bell reminded him.

“Oh no! We will be late,” he cried.

“Do not worry. It is a casual affair,” Charlotte said.

“You have to walk all the way back to the dormitories though,” Rozemyne noted.

Charlotte smiled reassuringly. “Melchior can walk much faster than you were able to at his age even though he takes just as much time to traverse the halls. It won't take us long if we do not stop for conversation,” she teased.

Rozemyne regarded Melchior with awe and curiosity. “I am amazed by his popular boy aura,” she intoned.

Melchior wanted so much to ask what she meant but there was no time to question it. He gave his farewell and promised they would visit again while Zipporah pulled Sigsnyr by a lock of his hair. “I look forward to seeing you again,” Evones called with a wave.

“May our threads be woven tightly together,” Sigsnyr replied breathlessly.

Footnote

37. Knowing nothing and almost embarrassing yourself^{^}

38. Being like a baby^{^}

39. There's no opportunity to speak or “I can get a word in edgewise”^{^}

Chapter Text

Friends and Frienemies

Once outside the lab, Sigsnyr instantly recovered his normal knightly focus. Pepin smoothed his hair while they walked quickly through the Scholars Building. They managed to dodge another scholar professor by walking by with serious expressions and not slowing their pace even the smallest amount. They didn't slow down in the central hallways but offered calmer smiles to passers-by. No one attempted to stop them or speak. They even passed one of the boys who’d been attempting to court Charlotte. He looked withered by her distant look but couldn't approach.

They arrived before Kirschnereit without having spoken to anyone. Melchior took a moment to fix his posture and expression. Once Charlotte was sure he seemed ready, she gestured to the servant to ring the bell.

Kirschnereit’s tea party room was sparsely decorated with a large mural of the rolling plains their duchy was famous for and Flutrane green banners. The furniture was made of wood cut into flat planes and straight lines giving it a solid feel. The chairs especially reminded Melchior of fancy storage crates with their slatted sides and square design. The seat was placed halfway up the box while the remaining sides created arm and back rests. The cushions were densely stuffed and sewed into surprisingly sharp lines⁴⁰.

“Charlotte,” Franziska said brightly and rose to greet her new guests. “Truly Dregarnuhr has answered my prayers. And is this Melchior you’ve brought? How nice to have a chance to properly converse. Please come in, sit, sit.” She led them in and put them in their chairs

The other girls were already seated with their younger siblings. With his relatively short stature he felt constrained as there was no elegant way to place his elbows on the armrests. He glanced over at Samira who looked similarly boxed in.

Only one girl rose and knelt before Melchior. She had a dark blue cape marking her as being from Vogtwerk. She gave her greetings, “I am Siegefrau. I had the great fortune to become friends with Lady Franziska and was thus invited to this gathering. It is good to meet you.”

“It is a pleasure, Lady Siegefrau. I can speak only for myself, but I am happy to have you among us,” he replied. She rose with a genuine smile then greeted Charlotte less formally before retaking her seat. Beside her was a relatively large fourth year girl. She looked very much like a knight of Dunkelfelger in her posture and countenance.

“You only just missed Franziska’s little brother, Charlotte. He was hurrying away with his Gewinnen board when we arrived,” said Beatrice. Melchior considered her beautiful purple hair and wondered how she could be jealous of anyone.

“You only saw him because you came so early, dear Beatrice.” Franziska chided.

Beatrice took a sip of tea. “We were simply so excited. I’ve been looking forward to our gathering of sisters for some time.”

“It is such a tragedy what happened to Hauchletze. We would have had even greater opportunity to commune,” Charlotte replied. She smiled just the same as always but Melchior noticed the particular tone in her voice she used to chastise nobles who asked rude questions.

Melchior was served a cup of tea and an assortment of snacks. It seemed that Kolteruze managed to add in some of Melchior's backup cookies along with Charlotte’s mousses. They took their poison testing bites and introduced their desserts.

Elfreide of Lehmbruck and her younger sister, Kalinda, listened to this exchange while stealing glances at Melchior. The younger girl looked particularly nervous to see him.

“I received such a cryptic apology. I wonder what could have happened,” Elfreide piped up.

The other girls expressed similar sentiments. Charlotte glanced at Melchior. They'd only just learned the full story and she was going to allow him to tell it. “We spoke with a scholar from Hauchletze earlier. It seems they were testing a powerful dust collector. It attempted to gather an entire room's worth of dust at once, pulling many precious ingredients toward itself in the process.”

“Oh my. I always thought it tedious to do the shelves, tables, and floors separately,” said Seigefrau. As an archattedant, she was the only one who’d actually used such tools. “I will hold my complaints in future.”

Elfriede giggled, “It is good no one was hurt. How would they explain being mistaken for dust and attacked by a cleaning tool,” she joked. Everyone laughed politely with only Aldegandt seeming genuinely amused.

“There are always dangers in innovation,” Franziska began. “Did Gilessenmeyer not nearly suffer a similar fate during our joint research.”

“I heard your brewing room was filled with a soporific air,” added Charlotte.

“It would seem that filling the air with powdered jureve is a poor counter to deadly dust attacks,” replied Beatrice with a shrug. “And only one person would benefit as a universal juerve is still only theoretical,” she added with a pointed look at Franziska.

“We discovered everything there is to know about jureve except what we wished to learn,” Franziska sighed. “Has your joint research been more successful? It was not so ambitious as I recall.”

Melchior felt that reviving old rituals and studying the acquisition rate for Divine Protections was plenty ambitious. It was even research between three different duchies. “Frenbeltag and Klassenberg have been excellent research partners. We have collected a great deal of information and are bettering our understanding of rituals every year,” replied Charlotte. Melchior felt nervous for a moment. He glanced at Samira again. She'd been rather annoyed about his religious profession. The conversation was threatening to turn to talk of the temple.

“Ehrenfest is the foremost in devotion to the gods. I do not doubt you will bring us all more wonderful knowledge in the coming years,” Elfriede interjected. She looked at her little sister. “That said, your research requires the blessings of Dauerleben⁴¹. Will you be passing on oversight after you graduate or offering scholars to continue the work?”

“Is such a thing the domain of scholars? Alexandria maintains that the Aub and her children are responsible for leading their duchies in prayer,” Beatrice countered. She also looked at Melchior. He resisted the urge to hide behind his tea cup.

Charlotte didn't look at all flustered. Instead she held Franziska’s eyes. “The results are shown most quickly in children so I think we will continue our research within our dormitories for now.” Melchior wondered whether she meant to imply that the others weren't welcome to join or just that it was research for students.

“It is a shame Aub Alexandria has pivoted to libraries. She contributed much in the foundational stages,” Aldegandt spoke up. The building tension in the room redoubled.

Kalinda took this moment to make her play. “Perhaps you will make faster progress now that another member of Ehrenfest's temple is in attendance,” she hissed.

Charlotte still didn't balk. “Indeed. We are most excited to have an expert on rituals once again. Klassenberg and Frenbeltag are still a bit behind on the new trends,” she giggled.

“As we are behind on our sword work,” Franziska laughed.

This was apparently the funniest thing anyone could have said. Melchior laughed politely but the girls all seemed properly tickled. “Mother says a good spear is better than a good friend but a friend does not call one before the rising of the Goddess.” Beatrice added.

“I used to take such joy in exercise. It is all the other duties that detract from its pleasure,” Aldegandt said.

Elfriede spoke over her tea cup. “It is because you are of Dunkelfelger. Has the cold yet to still Brennwarme⁴²?”

Beatrice took in a sharp breath. Aldegandt looked momentarily withered. She then took on a hard smile. “The warmth of Vogtwerk is in our people. I should never grow slack in my drive to protect them.”

It was Elfriede’s turn to look offended. “Who does not kneel before Erwachlerhen⁴³?” she countered.

“Verdraeos has heard your petition’s in class⁴⁴,” Franziska muttered.

Both Elfriede and Aldegandt seemed ready to come to blows despite the former’s obvious disadvantage in such things.

“Has Verdraeos not heard many half truths⁴⁵,” Melchior offered before he could stop himself. He didn't want to seem to be supporting one side or the other so he added, “I adore drawing but recently had a commission which gave me reason to reconsider.”

“Oh,” said Aldegandt, looking less satisfied than Elfriede. “Pray, tell us what stole your joy?”

Every eye fixed on him. Even Charlotte looked interested in how he would extricate himself. “Thank you for asking, Lady Aldegandt. It was a subject about which I knew little. In order to do my best work, I had to study many texts and learn new skills.”

Her smile softened. “Yes. It is difficult to love either Mestinora or Brennwarme when one stands before your love and the other behind great strictures⁴⁶. Be careful that you do not forget the purpose of either,” she said.

“That is Verbergan’s wisdom⁴⁷. You have reminded me Aldegandt, we have spent so long in greeting but did we not assemble to pass on Anhaltung’s light that Efflorelume might flourish⁴⁸,” said Franziska with a quiet clap. She looked for the very first time at her younger sister, Cornelia. Despite being a third year, she was just as quiet as the three first years.

“You are correct,” replied Beatrice. “We brought our dear sisters to hear the wisdom of our collective.”

Melchior hid behind his tea cup and hoped no one would call attention to his sex. “I was so transported by our fellowship I nearly forgot,” added Charlotte. “Now what is there to say that you have not already passed on? Franziska, Elfriede, Seigefrau, you must have rare gifts to impart.”

The oldest girls looked a bit wary to be called upon to speak first. There was no doubt they hoped to merely comment on the others' witticisms.

Samira spoke for the very first time. “I am most curious how one ensures selection in the dedication whirl. You all whirl so well, I am yet too unpracticed to discern what separates you?” It didn't sound like an intentional insult to their host even though she was the only one who might have earned a place but was only an alternate.

Franziska spoke up anyway, “It is a matter of the smallest difference. The angle of the head and movement of the fingers. Anyone can maintain their balance but the great whirlers know how to express fine emotion,” she said with a frankness that surprised everyone. Elfriede, her primary competition for the Goddess of Wind, looked stunned. “I had other things to apply myself to than whirling and so lack those fine points,” she finished smugly. Melchior had never seen someone look so angry behind a smiling face.

Elfriede’s younger sister swooped in to save her from making an embarrassing rebuttal. “How do you select your God of Darkness?” she asked. “I fear the quality of the choices makes it difficult to decide.” Something in the tone of her voice made Melchior think she was decrying rather than deifying the possible candidates.

Beatrice, the only Archduke Candidate in the room currently engaged, smiled wistfully. “It is hard to say. You will have to consult with your Aub to select choices suitable to augment your strengths and cover your weaknesses. Then remove all competition around the one you most prefer,” she said. The carnivorous look in her eye made Melchior shiver.

“It will be more difficult for you, but do not lose heart. It is possible to do some molding after the fact,” Siegefrau added.

“What if he does not like you?” whispered Cornelia.

The older girls laughed. “If he is able to hold that opinion, you have not worked hard enough. You must bloom into the kind of flower to catch his eye. Thankfully bees are rarely choosy,” Franziska said. “Have I not said as much before,” she asked her little sister.

“Oh but you must begin early. Is that not so, Samira?” Beatrice teased.

Samira turned slightly pink. “Forsernte rewards the diligence of spring,” she replied.

“She does not contemplate Ewigeliebe in summer, Beatrice. One's partner can determine one’s place as the Goddess of Light or the Eternal Five⁴⁹.” Charlotte said.

Beatrice looked directly at Melchior. “Dear Charlotte, do you seek the Goddesses Crown even as night approaches⁵⁰?”

“I greatly revere the Eternal Five. In Ehrenfest there is a proud tradition in being the Brother of the Aub,” Melchior said. He did not wish to leave any ambiguity here either. Charlotte shot a wry smile toward Elfriede. She regarded him with amazement.

“Is it also tradition to send the Aub's brother to the temple?” Seigefrau asked. Her tone wasn't mean spirited but Melchior still felt her judgment. Neither he nor his uncle had joined the temple as punishment but its poor reputation still lingered on them.

Charlotte didn't wait for him to gather his own courage. “In Ehrenfest we hope to revive the proper ways. The Aub's children all serve in religious ceremonies. My uncle, Lord Ferdinand, was able to instruct us in those practices only thanks to his own pioneering service. My Granduncle does much to teach the heirs. Melchior will be positioned to carry forward both their strengths,” Charlotte declared. Melchior beamed in spite of himself. He wanted to maintain a proper noble smile but this was the first time he heard Charlotte speak so candidly about his ensuing usefulness.

“When there are few candidates, the quality of their instruction is all the more important,” Beatrice replied. “One who reveres Erwachlerhen must be a true asset.”

“Indeed,” agreed Franziska. They shared a few more bits of wisdom about choosing a good partner and eventually took a slight pause to enjoy their desserts.

Melchior felt it was time to ask his own question. He wondered what this assembly of girls might teach him. Should he ask something he was actually curious about or attempt to gain information? It was hard to gauge based on the previous questions. He didn't doubt they would have excellent advice and that this might be his only opportunity to ask so many older girls for wisdom. There were many things he could simply ask his mother or Charlotte. He only had a few queries which only other duchies could answer.

“Do you go visiting much; to other duchies I mean? Or do other duchy’s nobles visit you?” They all looked surprised. Even Charlotte seemed unprepared for this question. As the quiet dragged on, he wanted to elaborate that Ehrenfest had long had a policy of insularity. Only Rozemyne and Ferdinand were permitted to visit without any excuse, such as an engagement. He heard that other duchies allowed visiting nobles. Ossvault was said to be a popular destination for summering on their beaches.

“It is not rare to visit family in other duchies,” Franziska eventually said. “We are yet underage and women so we have little freedom to range so widely into society nor to visit on faestone exchanges.” Melchior thought this was strange. Detlinde had come to Ehrenfest to exchange engagement faestones.

“The nearest I’ve been to leaving Gilessenmeyer was when greeting the Zent when she came to open our Country Gate,” Beatrice added.

“Nobles on their way to the Sovereignty, often travel through Lehmbruck,” Elfriede said.

It seemed that no one had much insight on how feasible it would be to travel the country. “You might visit Gilessenmeyer, once you come of age, with an invitation from an archnoble or better,” Samira said. “That is our law.”

Melchior’s heart soared. Even if he couldn't stay, there were many duchies between Ehrenfest and Gilessenmeyer and many of their monuments were on primary trade routes.

“When you pass through Lehmbruck on your way, I shall host you at the castle,” Elfriede promised upon seeing his happy smile.

“I thank you ever so much for your generous offers. I will remember them,” Melchior said. The girls smiled back.

They spoke briefly about drivable highbeasts being usable in skirts and Charlotte took the opportunity to boast about her battle-beast usage. They all seemed very interested in the topic and were emboldened to attempt a duel-highbeast way of life.

Charlotte’s attendant gave the signal for them to say farewell. “It seems Dregarnuhr has woven today's threads with exceptional grace and speed,” Charlotte said. “We have had the most splendid time, Lady Franziska. Thank you for your most generous invitation and your flexibility.”

“I could not allow the unfortunate circumstances to prevent me from meeting little Melchior. Shall I see you when the Goddess of Light rises?”

“Oh indeed, Charlotte has been planning this reception all Winter. Not even an explosion in the brewing room would delay it now,” Beatrice said as she and Samira also rose. “It was most excellent to take tea with Vogtwerk. I pray that you rest well with the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves our threads together once again.”

Charlotte led Melchior out first after a few more goodbyes. Sixth bell rang just as they reentered the dormitory. “Dear brother, would you like to have dinner with me while we discuss,” Charlotte asked.

Melchior had expected an opportunity to sort his thoughts and speak with his retainers before a meeting. It felt too sudden to move to a meeting room even before dinner. He didn't want to disappoint Charlotte by seeming incapable of having such a discussion without preparation but it would be worse to embarrass himself with poorly collected thoughts.

“So much was discussed. I fear I need some time to collect my thoughts. It would wound me deeply to bring inferior analysis before you,” he replied.

She smiled and gave him a pat on the head. “Very good. It is always best to take time to assess with one's scholars before a debrief, even with me. I must insist we speak after dinner as I must host a large tea party tomorrow. Do you mind terribly sharing your meeting room with me?”

How could he deny her anything after such praise. “Of course not. You are most welcome. I will ensure it is a larger one this evening,” he promised.

“Thank you ever so much. May our parting be brief,” she replied.

Harrowing Possibilities

Melchior and his retinue still had dinner in a meeting room. Kolteruze even brought an area sound-blocker. Once the food was set, the only adult attendant allowed inside was Zargerecht.

Isolde placed her notes on a little stand Kolteruze had acquired from who knows where. “What an immense joy. Lord Melchior, I thank you for taking me into your service that I might witness such wit and tack.”

“I am glad to have you with me. Hopefully you have drawn more from the exchanges than I could. Charlotte says these were her friends but they seemed to be quite mean to one another,” he began.

“I don't think they are all friends. Only Lady Beatrice, Lady Charlotte, and Lady Franziska seem close,” Pepin added. He’d been so nervous earlier but seemed energized now.

Isolde regarded him with surprise. They were sitting fairly close together as those who attended the tea party were placed closer to Melchior rather than having the whole table organized by rank. “They did seem close if not friendly,” she agreed.

“I don't remember them insulting each other but they asked difficult questions,” Melchior noted.

They continued to talk about the attendees and went over what each duchy said. By number of sentences, Melchior had spoken more than any other younger sibling. Isolde wasn't counting Aldegandt among the younglings. “It is because Charlotte offered you support. She let you tell the Hauchletze story and didn't give you a pre prepared question to ask.”

Melchior considered this. He hadn't thought the other questions were rehearsed. “How do you know they were pre prepared?”

“No one looked surprised by them. I don't doubt there was some coordination between the parties as well as between the sisters,” Isolde explained.

“Everyone had ready answers too,” Pepin added.

“Did you notice anything else, Pepin,” Isolde asked.

He nodded and took a moment to swallow his food. “I think Lady Elfriede also has a younger brother who hasn't begun attending yet. She is not as confident as Lady Franziska that she can take her seat.”

“That is good insight, Pepin. I will ask you for thoughts more often,” Isolde said. She shifted through her papers while Pepin blushed deeply.

“Why don't the other older sisters support their younger siblings?” Melchior wondered aloud.

“If they are in direct competition they do not want to enrich them too much. Either you or Charlotte will take the seat but there is no competition between you as you intend to relinquish your claim. If you suddenly change your mind, she cannot defeat you. Thus it benefits her to be your ally,” Zargerecht explained.

“It is not true that she cannot beat you but she would have to be quite ruthless,” Isolde countered. Melchior was again worried that they seemed to agree.

Isolde seemed to want to continue devolving into ever greater minutia, but Melchior was happy with their analysis so far. He asked her to write a report once she had more time to consider things and asked for reports from those who stayed behind.

“We encountered nothing we could not handle and retrieved more herbs for Veremund. He has successfully developed a preservative for the expensive skins. You should expect a report and demonstration soon,” explained Theodore. Everyone expressed great delight.

“Thank you all for your hard work. Has Flautzeal informed you all of the updated agreement? Will you be hunting a schnnefeld then?” Melchior asked. Flautzeal had and Sigsnyr asked for permission to lead the hunt. Melchior gave his assent and promised to remain in his room so Nikolaus could also go.

“I completed the sachets and wrote out the recipes. I think we should deliver them in the morning rather than tonight. They will not have time to act on the information before curfew as it stands,” Kolteruze explained.

“I heard all their potions and ingredients were destroyed. If we have any to spare, could we send some of those as well. It would be so difficult for their knights to collect replacements without rejuvenation potions.”

“Why do you wish to offer so much aid?” Zargerecht asked. The rest of his retainers seemed equally curious.

“Would we not hope for aid were our roles reversed?”

“No one would expect it,” Isolde replied. “We are not even research partners at the moment.”

“You don't want to help your friends in Hauchletze?” Melchior asked.

“I have associates in Hauchletze but they would not expect aid during this or even a more serious crisis,” she replied.

“They might consider it condescending as we have only recently been ranked above them. Sending aid implies we are in a superior position. Their duchy will doubtlessly send potions and ingredients. We need not expend ours. The sachets are enough of a gesture,” Zargerecht said.

Melchior sighed. Since everyone seemed to be in agreement, he would have to take their advice. “Thank you for your work, Kolteruze. We will send the sachets from Ehrenfest with our condolences.” Kolteruze nodded. He looked pensively from Isolde to Zargerecht.

“If we combine our gift with that of a greater duchy, would it seem condescending?” he asked. Zargerecht stifled a look of surprise. Kolteruze never asked for advice. He seemed to feel he was answerable to any task without Zargerecht’s input.

“Likely not. Though it would appear to carry expectations,” Zargerecht replied.

“They would have reason to be grateful. They've lost more than rejuvenation potions. Our brewing room stores communal juerve ingredients and rare but not particularly useful items, some hunted years ago,” Isolde said.

“The incident was caused by Lord Evones. Alexandria might be willing to support him,” Pepin added. Isolde smiled at him again.

Sigsnyr looked up at Evones’s name. “Oh, we should offer him our support as well!”

“If you personally wish to empty your coffers no one can stop you,” Zipporah said with a complex look.

Sigsnyr looked genuinely wounded. “I should do the same for any friend,” he insisted. “If there is anything you need you needn’t even ask, Zipporah.”

“No, not anything,” she muttered.

Everyone looked back and forth between them. Melchior thought it best to move things forward. Dinner would be ending soon. “Should I ask about Lord Torsten or wait until after the tea party?”

“You should ask. That you have waited this long is amazing,” Isolde replied.

Zargerecht shook his head. “It is not the time. This meeting is to be about the tea party, not Charlotte's engagement.”

Isolde scowled. “We have delayed overlong. The end of term approaches. It will take time, that we do not have, to set up a meeting. This is an opportunity to speak about it without raising suspicion,” she explained.

“Holding a special meeting would alert Lord Wilfried,” Pepin added.

“Do we not want Wilfried to know?” Melchior asked. Wilfried had been the primary contact for Charlotte's suitors so far.

Isolde nodded. Zargerecht also nodded. “I predict that Lord Torsten wishes to meet with you without Lord Wilfried. He would send a more general invitation if any male Archduke Candidate of Ehrenfest were acceptable,” he explained.

Melchior rubbed his chin while the dishes were cleared away. The sound-blocker was left on the table while his retainers shuffled around. Melchior prepared to stand to free up the highest seat for Charlotte. Zargerecht placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are of the same status, you were here first, you are hosting her in your meeting room during the time you would normally meet with your retainers. You do not need to give deference.”

Melchior didn't like asking his sister to take a lower seat but she seemed wholly unfazed. Her scholars sat across from Isolde and Flautzeal. Melchior handed his pen to Pepin to deliver to Flautzeal. He had a small stack of parchment. The scholars were going to trial a new system of signals.

Charlotte and Melchior spoke about the tea party. They talked about what information he came with, what was “commonly” known that she hadn't shared earlier, and what they’d learned. She was tickled to hear that he'd come primarily with climate and geographic knowledge and was surprised by how much Veremund was able to add. “This is a medscholar. Does he wish to join your service?” She asked. Melchior explained that he didn't but that they were able to work together anyway. This was the first she’d heard about the depth of the overabundance of ingredients problem. “I am glad you found a solution. Feel free to ask for assistance if you find you need it in future,” she chided.

Once they covered all the highlights of the tea party, Charlotte turned to Isolde. “You are such a skilled scholar. I am surprised you’ve yet to discern the true connection between today's attendees,” she said.

“We did not think they were all truly your friends,” Melchior said. He felt vindicated to have his suspicions verified.

Isolde meanwhile stared at her notes seemingly in a daze. She looked between Charlotte and Melchior and counted something on her hands. After muttering for a good minute she looked up, rapturous delight on her face. “Elfriede has a younger brother but the Aub of Lehmbruck is advanced in years and could die before the boy begins attending the Royal Academy let alone before he comes of age. The civil war has left Elfriede as the next available heir. Franziska's younger brother is so deficient in mana it is a wonder he was not sent to the temple. Gilessenmeyer is Gilessenmeyer. And Vogtwerk only has Aldegandt for the foreseeable future. All these girls are positioned to become Archduchesses,” she declared. Melchior was stunned. Flautzeal gazed at her with reverence

“Well done. I am surprised it took you so long but that you realized the connection at all is a testament to your knowledge and skills of deduction,” Charlotte said. “I should not have passed you over to Melchior,” she sighed.

A new look filled Isolde's eyes. Melchior had never seen her look so vulnerable or happy in this particular way. It was as though something in her fell into place at that very moment. “I am most fortunate to have you in my service,” Melchior added. “I should never have figured it out. Is that why you were invited despite not having a younger sister in attendance?”

Charlotte nodded. “I believe they assumed I would serve as an interim Aub. Now they see that you have no intentions on the seat.”

“We must be careful,” Isolde intoned. She still had a glassy look in her eyes but they were beginning to refocus. “My Lord, you have plenty of mana and are not a low quality candidate.”

Melchior squinted. He wasn't sure what they were implying. “Why must I be careful?”

“They must all marry an Archduke Candidate who has little claim on the seat in his home duchy. You are not one such Archduke Candidate. You are even more valuable for being of perfectly fine quality and little ambition,” Charlotte explained. She sat back in her chair and folded her hands. “Your entire generation is small. Unless a great many boys are added in your third year, only one boy, who is not from Drewanchel, can avoid leaving his home duchy to marry a girl in his own generation. That will not protect you if a sitting Aub takes a fancy.”

Melchior felt his whole world tilt. A shattering feeling filled him. He didn't want to leave Ehrenfest and he didn't want to force Charlotte from the seat just to protect himself. He thought about Beatrice’s hungry look. “Why did you show me to them?” he whimpered. He tried to piece himself together and take deep breaths.

“That is not the case. I showed them to you, not the other way around. You must prepare provisions for both legs of the journey. It is my greatest wish that you remain by my side but the Brother of the Aub has always been to other duchies a zantze before Schlageziel’s bow⁵¹.” She watched him fail to calm down for a long moment. “Grand Uncle received much pressure to join the Sovereign Knights Order. He escaped because Grandfather's health was too fragile to rely on. Uncle was sent to Ahrensbach by royal decree to save their duchy. An unmarried, male, Archduke Candidate, of high quality, with no seat in his future, is a rare and coveted thing.” She leaned forward to look directly into his clouding eyes as their rims turned red. “I want you to be able to choose. If you cannot escape this fate, if you will not do all you can to remain in Ehrenfest, I want you to be able to choose for yourself rather than being sent by the whims of others to a woman who would send you to find the towering stairway.”

Melchior nodded. “Ehrenfest is my Geduldh,” he whispered.

“I know,” Charlotte replied.

“I do not want to go.”

“I know.”

“Will you protect me?” He gazed into her eyes and searched for hope. It wasn't strange for superfluous Archduke Candidates to be married off. No matter how close their bond, he was a threat to her. “I will not challenge you. Please don't send me away.”

Charlotte started. “I would not send you away,” she promised. “I will protect you with all I have. You must fight as well. We will fight together for our future and the future of Ehrenfest.”

He finally breathed a sigh of relief. She was just trying to expand his options. Only Aldegandt was the sole inheritor. It would not be impossible to avoid the younger sisters with less chance to take the seat so long as Charlotte didn't mean to send him away like Aunt Georgina.

“Now, Lord Torsten sent you an invitation,” she said once he seemed calmer. He nodded. “I would like you to accept.”

“I will invite him to tea,” Melchior promised immediately.

She shook her head. “I would like you to be more subtle. I have asked Wilfried to be my shield. He is very… enthusiastic. I would like you to seem more pliable.”

“Do you like Lord Torsten?” Melchior asked. If he was just a political match, then Melchior didn't feel much incentive to help him. The Aubs could decide. He would still have the meeting because Charlotte was asking.

She smiled warmly. “He is… clumsy but yes, I like him,” she admitted. She had the same look as Florencia when she looked at Sylvester. He felt he had to ensure their union.

“I will do my utmost. And I will be most discreet,” he promised.

“I thank you,” she said. “I trust you will be a most powerful ally.”

She left with her retinue while Melchior wiggled in his chair, his previous anxieties forgotten. Only after the warmth of praise had dissipated did he realize he wasn't sure how to plan a secret tea party. He looked at Isolde. She straightened immediately. “How do we plan a secret tea party?”

Zargerecht responded instead. “There is one place you can be found easily that is also fairly secure,” he offered.

“The most glorious place on campus,” Isolde said.

Melchior was encouraged by their agreement. “We shall inform him that I will be visiting the Archduke's Archive soon.”

Footnotes

40. Consider looking up American Prairie style furniture for the full experience.^{^}
41. This research takes a lot of time, do you plan to send more scholars to the Sovereignty to continue it. ^{^}
42. She's asking if the move to Vogtwerk hasn't reduced her passion.^{^}
43. Who isn't talking their learning/training seriously?^{^}
44. We’ve heard you complaining about wanting to quit.^{^}
45. We all say things we don't mean in moments of chaos. In this context, haven't we all wanted to give up during training.^{^}
46. You lose energy for your passions when studying gets in your way. ^{^}
47. Knowledge of great value because it is rare to hear. Its a generic compliment, according to me, for really good advice.^{^}
48. Womanly wisdom ^{^}
49. Who you marry might determine whether you become aub or not.^{^}
50. Your duchy has a male heir the right age to take the seat, why do you think you can talk about what it takes to become Archduchess? ^{^}
51. A hunting target. Prey ^{^}

Chapter Text

Research and a Secret Meeting

Melchior’s retinue didn't know why Prince Hildebrand had so readily agreed to reserve the Archduke's Archive for them in the morning for two days hence. The reply to Melchior’s magic letter was even returned via courier to Ehrenfest’s forest entrance. The young sentries received quite the fright when black cloaks descended upon them.

They also didn't have time to consider it too deeply. The scholars had to go out and collect some information. Kolteruze’s prior efforts had brought them knowledge of Torsten's favorite foods and drinks and a sense that he was generally well liked. He was the third son and of the second wife but had more mana than his brothers. So much more, that he would struggle to marry in his own duchy or between the lesser duchies his family had influence with. Thus he was hoping to make a connection to a larger duchy that could assist his home in improving their economy and overall material conditions.

Even for a middle duchy, Ehrenfest had long been weak and backwater. Then, like lightning from a clear blue sky, they gained influence, economic strength, and royal favor all in the span of a few short years. Berschmann didn't need a meteoric rise, but it did need to stabilize its natural resources. The greater duchies around them shunned their refined and artisanal products, forcing them to sell raw resources at less than desirable rates.

“Basically, they want to learn how to make paper before anyone else,” Isolde explained.

“They want to give us an Archduke Candidate in exchange for paper making knowledge?” Melchior asked in disbelief. “There must be better ways. He will have to leave his home.”

“Not everyone is as connected to remaining in their duchy as you are,” Isolde noted. “In any case, we must avoid telling them anything until the stars are bound. Even if Torsten wants to leave, Berschmann would rather keep their best Archduke Candidate and learn our trade secrets if they can.”

Melchior added this to his list of secrets to keep. He would also need to keep him from learning that Charlotte liked him, for reasons Melchior didn't understand, and that Ehrenfest was rife with internal struggles. “He will learn once he gets here. Not telling him will make him easier to guide down the right paths.”

With this important business out of the way, Veremund was invited to join them. “We are exceptionally delighted to hear what you’ve discovered, Lord Veremund,” Melchior said and gestured for him to sit down. Flautzeal and Theodore had already reported on what he was going to say but everyone was happy to hear Veremund announce it himself.

“I’ve discovered how to preserve the furs two different ways. One leaves a stiff product, perfect for decoration or upholstery. The other makes for a softer fur, greatly reducing the need for stretching to achieve the softness needed for clothing.” He went on to explain that his uncle had expressed surprise that they had to scrape so much. “I didn't know, but the liquid was formulated to remove the scraping step. It is more expensive than the recipe we use at home but since we have knights to gather and more or less free reign to collect from the grounds, it would save us time.”

“We scraped for nothing?” Melchior asked calmly. He was doing his best to appear austere.

“No, the liquid can be used for a greater number of skins if they have been mostly scrapped. Only those striving for absolute perfection can be said to have wasted much time,” he replied while strategically not looking at Flautzeal.

“Then that is alright. How much progress have you made toward finishing the processing?”

“I predict being able to finish before I must return to Ehrenfest. Though with more assistance, we might complete the project with time to spare before the Interdutchy Tournament.”

Melchior looked around at his retainers. His knights had so much training to attend that he was largely trapped in the dormitory. The rest of his retainers had been promised very small percentages as they had neither hunted nor participated directly in the research. Like Melchior, their contributions were limited to scraping skins.

“This is not the manner of work appropriate for you, my lord,” Zargerecht warned.

Melchior racked his brain. He dearly wished to assist, especially since he had so much free time. He also felt terrible taking such a large portion of the profits after doing next to nothing. “I should like to practice my brewing and learn more about the recipes. I also do not doubt the knights will need more potions more frequently. As this is not the time to rely on amateur concoctions, I ask that you focus on brewing the potions with the knights.” He glanced around. The only member of his retinue who would actually receive nothing, was Isolde. Unlike the knights, she could not afford to tarnish her femininity and therefore refused to touch the un-preserved skins at all. Money was useful to everyone so he thought she might want an opportunity to make some. “Isolde and I will brew the tanning liquids,” he declared.

Isolde looked shocked while Veremund looked beyond happy. “I will ensure everything is prepared for you and be available to assist if needed. With so much mana, it will make for very quick work,” he said.

“If anyone else would like to increase their take, I will compensate them for adding to the timely completion of this project,” Melchior said. Kolteruze immediately excused himself, saying he was more than satisfied with his share while Pepin and Flautzeal agreed to help. Gerianne promised to work with enthusiasm. Zargerecht shook his head.

The final item to discuss was the gift to Hauchletze. Veremund wiggled nervously in his chair while Kolteruze gave his report and Isolde fixed him with her intimidating smile. “Alexandria agreed to offer more substantial assistance as a part of a shared effort to ameliorate the suffering of the students of Hauchletze. They will be sending potions and stationary for them to transfer any damaged records. We are sending the sachets as well as a miscellaneous collection of rejuvenation and mana potion ingredients collected from the empathic scholars of Ehrenfest. I've taken their names. They asked for nothing in return but thanks is in order. Veremund offered several bunches of useful herbs and fruits.”

“Thank you ever so much, Veremund for your generosity. You are a credit to Ehrenfest and the students of Hauchletze are sure to be most grateful,” Melchior said.

“I was blessed with excess by the diligent efforts of your knights. I could not stand by when you asked for aid in turn,” he replied.

“After consulting with the scholars, we have decided to send a small bottle of expansion potion as well. We have excess from last year. In fact we are still using the bottle brewed two years ago.”

Melchior was surprised. Veremund had made this liquid sound more valuable than gold dust. “Even though we used so much for our research?” he asked. To use more on his gift to another duchy felt like too much to ask.

“If you would allow a scholar to speak,” said Veremund. Melchior gestured for him to continue. “The recipe makes a batch fit to serve two to three times the current student population. It is the smallest batch we can make.”

“I see. So long as we are not depriving the students of Ehrenfest the ability to brew their jureve,” Melchior replied. He glanced at Veremund then said crypticly. “Kolteruze, please warn Wilfried that I will be taking my knights for our activities. Until then I will assist Veremund in the dormitory.”

Flautzeal indicated that he had something to ask. “If you would like a diptych made in time to paint it before the end of term, we will need to give our carpenter time to practice,” he said. All eyes turned to Sigsnyr.

“If you’ll forgive me for my lack of skill. I can't make something that small,” he said.

“It would be hard to get a sword into the corners,” Zipporah mused. “There is a craftsman among the dormitory staff. This seems within his abilities.”

Everyone seemed a bit surprised to hear about the craftsman, except for Sigsnyr who added that was who sold him the nails. Flautzeal agreed to seek out this craftsman and have the panels prepared. Zipporah gave his name and where he could be found as well as which attendant was in charge of the facilities in general.

“You know a great deal about this topic,” Isolde observed.

Zipporah blushed. “I have made use of the dormitory repair services a number of times,” she admitted.

“What did you break?” Melchior asked. His curiosity burned in his eyes.

“If you'll forgive me, my lord. I would prefer not to discuss it.” Melchior felt temptation like he’d never known. With an order, his curiosity would be sated but Zipporah looked so embarrassed, he just couldn't.

“Yes, that is understandable,” he replied sadly.

Veremund looked greatly relieved when they adjourned for the evening. Sitting in on the private meetings of Archduke Candidates wasn't something for random scholars. Melchior, meanwhile, was excited for the coming days with their clandestine adventures and brewing activites.

The following morning, Isolde appeared in her brewing clothes for the first time. Her hair was pulled back into a more utilitarian style as well. Melchior didn't yet have brewing clothes. There was nothing in the first year curriculum that required them and no one anticipated him learning to brew so soon. So he wore his sacrificial training clothes which Zargerecht had Waschened into a usable state.

This was also his first opportunity to see Isolde use her schtappe. Flautzeal and Melchior fawned over the beautiful little stick. “Wow! It looks so pretty in real life,” Melchior cooed. Isolde allowed him to examine the openwork pattern. “You altered it a little. I love it. The flowers were clumsily placed before.”

“I am excited for my schtappe now,” Flautzeal added.

“Thank you for the design. I will work on matching scissors after I pass my classes,” she said. She looked at it with joyful eyes.

Veremund stood near the ingredients busily sorting and weighing things. He listened to the fawning children and shook his head. “Everyone is excited for their schtappe. What are you saying,” he grumbled.

“They are normally boring. Now that I’ve seen so many interesting ones, I will have to consider the perfect design,” Flautzeal replied. He flicked the flower dangles in a slight daze.

“If you want any help, let me know,” Melchior offered.

Veremund walked over. “I know Sigsnyr uses some impossible creation, but most people use very similar wooden wands,” he said. Upon actually seeing the object, hiis eyes grew wide. “That is exceptionally beautiful.”

“Thank you ever so much. Lord Melchior designed it,” she replied.

“It is based on Isolde's embroidery,” Melchior added. “She’s improved it quite a bit.”

“No embroidery has ever looked so,” Veremund muttered. He summoned his own boring wooden stick.

“You should see, Isolde’s. She might show you her handkerchiefs if you ask nicely,” Melchior said. He walked over to the ingredients and began reading the recipe.

Veremund turned bright red. “I could never presume,” he whispered. He looked at Isolde who also looked away sheepishly. “But, I am now inspired to pursue a more interesting design,” he hurried back to the table, unable to consider beautiful handkerchiefs any longer.

Melchior and Isolde listened to Veremund’s explanation while Pepin, Flautzeal, Gerianne, and Nikolaus worked on scraping. Only Nikolaus was able to utilize Kolteruze’s schtappe method but their work progressed at a reasonable pace. Eventually the brewers were left to measure and cut on their own while Veremund worked on aggressively dragging a skin over a strange wooden contraption built with Sigsnyr's signature ruggedness.

By lunch time, Melchior was exhausted from chopping and stirring, the scrapers’ hands all hurt from their knives except for Nikolaus who was merely feeling drained of mana. Isolde hid her discomfort behind her noble smile but was obviously tired of standing for so long. Veremund however, continued to work with gusto. His cheeks and nose, pink from cold and exertion.

“Brewing is hard work,” Melchior complained as he sank into the big pile of fur covering the big chair.

“I do not usually do so much at once. I find that using a schtappe makes the process easier,” Isolde said as she sat down next to him. The chair was big enough to leave them plenty of space. “This is quite comfortable,” she noted.

“It is a shame one must sit in the freezing cold to enjoy it,” he replied.

“Perhaps we could move it to the common room,” Pepin called from his stool. He was working diligently through his fatigue.

“Will the furs be alright in the warmth,” Melchior asked. Veremund paused his pulling and scraping.

“Oh yes. All of those are preserved. There is simply nowhere better to store them,” he said then continued working with no loss of vigor. Melchior and Isolde watched with complicated expressions. Melchior considered how weak he still was. Hildebrand’s words about training to meet great foes, echoed in his mind. He couldn't even meet slightly intense activity at the moment.

Fourth bell rang. Zargerecht met their group at the entrance of the training room and cast Waschen on them. They then went down to lunch. Veremund politely declined Melchior’s invitation to eat with them so everyone sank into their usual chairs. Both the knights and the craftspeople looked spent.

“How was training,” Gerianne asked as she sat down next to Sigsnyr. She cast healing on a cut on his hand. It stopped looking so raw but didn't heal very much.

“Thank you. It has just grown more intense. Wilfried hopes to win in both speed and treasure stealing ditter,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I’m not very strong,” she replied.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “That is how we all begin.”

They all took their time eating before trudging back to their respective tasks.

Lunch gave them a burst of energy but the crafters flagged only a little after fifth bell. They spent a bit of time watching Veremund process and condition skins. He had piles for preserved furs, parchment, and leather. The leathers were carefully rubbed down with oils while the furs were brushed and combed. Only four were tagged for sale. It seemed that everyone was content to wait for possible greater rewards.

Zipporah had chosen the skin of a creature with a light brown coat and relatively short fur. It was a beast strong with the fire element so the fur was deceptively warm despite looking more understated. Theodore wanted something fuzzier. His pick was gray in color and incredibly soft. It was also one of the largest pieces. Sigsnyr chose one smaller leather he was planning to turn into adventuring gear and the largest skin fit for parchment which turned out to be taller and wider than himself.

Kolteruze braved the cold to deliver them warm drinks around fifth and a half bell. He agreed to help Nikolaus move the big chair but declined to sit on the skins. Melchior had to follow behind everyone while they processed through the dormitory with their furniture and bundles of fluff. The students watched while the chairs before the fireplace were rearranged. Their occupants weren't happy to be evicted but were calmed by an invitation to be the first users of the giant chair.

As an all wood piece, it looked incredibly out of place beside the beautifully crafted furniture. Once neatly arranged with dark brown faefurs, it looked both intimidating and cozy; like a giant pet bear. The students quickly began to appreciate its grand dimensions. For all the clumsy look of Sigsnyr's craftsmanship, the big chair proved capable of supporting three people on its seat and two on each arm. The strange angle of its backrest meant it was comfortable to lean against from the wrong angle as well.

This was also an exceptional way to advertise their furs. Many students inquired about purchasing them. They were told they would be available through Veremund's family’s store. As buzz continued to rise, Melchior selected a few to hold for his family and Brunhilde. If the Archduke was cut out of a trend again, Melchior felt sure he might ban the offending item in a fit of grumpiness.

Flautzeal presented three sets of prepared panels from the craftsman. Diptychs were very easy to create, it turned out. He’d managed to make them using only Flautzeal's description though, once the scholar explained exactly how he relayed the design, it was clear his description had been exhaustive. All the angles were finished nicely and the smooth wood seemed ready to receive the base layer. Once they were painted, the panels could be connected with decorative cording.

“I can do sketches of Schwartz and Weiss tomorrow morning,” Melchior declared happily. He would then have a new painting project. If he primed the blanks tonight they would be dry by the next evening. While he was unsure where to acquire the appropriate kind of wax, he felt it wouldn't be hard to find.

“Do not forget the purpose of our excursion,” Isolde chided. “This will be an important conversation that you are very likely to have without anyone to assist you.” He returned his focus to the battle ahead and reviewed his notes one last time.

The Path to the Library: A Royal Interlude

Prince Hildebrand was too excited to sleep. He'd been given two days to plan the tea and snacks for Melchior's visit to the Archduke's Archive. His retainer's seemed to think he should be offended by the sudden request as it was less than the standard three days of notice and came with the caveat that he refuse all other invitations to said archive. He was just happy that Melchior had taken him up on his offer and was coming to visit at all.

The sixth year Archduke Candidates were all finished with their transcriptions so no one wanted to schedule a visit anyway. It was much more difficult to find out Melchior's tea and snack preferences. Hildebrand had exclusively adult retainers; Sovereign archnobles mostly. This made it difficult for them to collect information from the student population. The professors and other administrators hadn't interacted with the boy much either. He finished his classes then mostly stayed in his dorm. The only time anyone had an opportunity to talk to him was during brief conversations he seemed willing to have with anyone who happened to be in the halls.

Hildebrand received reports that Melchior had amazing grades, that he was good at Gewinnen, that he liked to ask about people's classes, that he’d only left the main building three times, and many other miscellaneous facts which had nothing to do with his favorite tea. His retainer's weren't even sure what blend his attendant, Kolteruze, brought for their normal repast. It was some blend specific to Ehrenfest. He tasted a few teas over the course of his two days to pick one that felt the most similar.

As for the snacks, he couldn't decide whether to bring something sweet or salty. He was always surprised by how hungry sitting around writing left him and greatly enjoyed the savory foods. His attendants had less than effusive praise for their simplicity even if they too seemed to enjoy them.

They encouraged him to leave the planning to them. He didn't have much free time with all his official duties from being the academy overseer and managing a villa. Most of the accounting was done by scholars but he still needed to look at all the boards and parchments before they could be approved. He was glad to have his mother double checking things but felt terrible for adding to her busy schedule. Still, he wanted to ensure his welcome would be perfect and couldn't trust his attendants not to fall back on convention rather than choosing based on his guests tastes.

So the night before he issued orders concerning the tea and snacks. One of his attendants would confer with the librarians to find a nearby source of hot water as well as the proper path for moving food, which was forbidden in the reading rooms.

He read through more reports in an attempt to bore himself to sleep then lay in bed fantasizing about how wonderful their tea party would be. They would impress Kolteruze and the older attendant who both always looked disappointed. Perhaps Melchior would even compliment his choice of tea with more than perfunctory enthusiasm.

Prince Hildebrand woke up just as early despite his late night. He trained with his knights, like any young Dunkelfelger lad, then washed and ate and dressed. For most things, Hildebrand wore his uniform. He felt most comfortable in this all black and white ensemble. His mother insisted on the little white capes over his black cloak and the purple faestone brooches and lilac undershirts and gold over silver festoonments. Had it been Hildebrand's choice, he would dress more simply and in all black but he was a prince and had to look important. The most he managed was to secure white and silver embroidery instead of purple.

It was all heavy and made it hard to work. He sometimes looked longingly at his retainers’ uniforms and wondered if they were as comfortable and practical as they looked.

After delaying until second and a half bell was upon them, Hildebrand began leading his retainers out through the teleportation door to the Royal Academy. The halls were only a little full of students. Most classes were over so the less industrious preferred to sleep in. Generally, only scholars looking for last minute information in the library were rushing about at this time of year and morning.

He walked past a collection of dark purple cloaks surrounding Berschmann’s Archduke Candidate. This was the second boy from that duchy attending during Hildebrand’s tenure as overseer and the third son overall. He and his retinue gave way and bowed in acknowledgement.

It was odd to see one Archduke Candidate during his morning procession to the Archduke's Archive let alone a second. Fortunately, the next one he met was Melchior. His first knights, a tall girl with green hair and the mednoble boy who waited at the top of the stairs, were just exiting as Hildebrand approached. He slowed his walking pace to give them time to properly enter the hall. Of course they saw him and retreated a bit, no doubt whispering to their lord about waiting until he passed. But Hildebrand had already seen them and was even looking at them so they couldn't pretend they weren't leaving and hurry back inside when he also knew they had a morning engagement to get too.

Their anxiety was obvious but the group bravely entered the hall and waited near their door for the prince to pass. Hildebrand took note of the little knight with the white hair who’d been absent from the Divine Instrument offerings and who stood closer to Melchior than anyone else. She was never more than an arm and a half length away but never ran into her charge. Hildebrand wondered why such a tiny girl was trusted to perform guard duty in the first place.

He stopped before the genuflecting group and prepared to give a greeting. He was instantly met with a problem. Prince Hildebrand didn't, as a rule, speak to people in the hallways nor did he offer greetings first. If he wanted to, he could stop and stare at someone who would have to keep bowing. Considering his reputation for staring at this person in particular, he didn't want to seem to be doing that. However, there was no polite form for him to use to address Melchior first.

He decided to launch straight into conversation. “Are you headed to the library, Lord Melchior?” His attendant took an altered breath but didn't break poise. Lady Magdelena would hear about this but that was a problem for three days from now at the earliest.

Melchior looked up but didn't straighten. “I offer greetings on this morning held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth. Answering your question, your highness, I was just leaving to make my way there. It takes me some time to travel anywhere.”

Prince Hildebrand was deeply confused. As far as he knew, Melchior was perfectly capable of walking at a normal pace, unlike his older sister. The library wouldn't open for a little while yet. Hildebrand could enter whenever he wished as Mistress of the Library and wanted to coordinate with the librarians before Melchior arrived. “Please rise. Forgive me for asking, why does it take you so long to walk between your dormitory and the library?” If his problem was congestion in the halls, that was very easy to remedy. As this thought crossed his mind he gave a gesture that the other students bowing and waiting for him to move away could continue on their paths. They hastily dispersed.

Melchior stood up straight. He also blushed ever so slightly along the ears. “I have become acquainted with many people. As I so rarely leave my dormitory, I use my walks as a way to socialize and speak with friends,” he explained. His tone and expression made it seem as though this was not entirely by choice but not necessarily unwelcomed.

Hildebrand never spoke to people in the halls. Everyone had to give way and no one would be bold enough to approach him. If they even attempted, they were sure to get a shield to the face. He wondered what it would be like to be so encumbered with people’s polite chatter that you had to leave plenty of time to walk even short distances. “Would you introduce me to some of your friends?” Hildebrand asked.

Melchior smiled wider then paused. He looked toward his adult attendant who gave a subtle nod and a slightly tired look. He also glanced toward his younger attendant. This boy also tended to wait upstairs so he must have been a mednoble. He smiled encouragingly so a last glance went to the pastel colored girl who always looked happy. She’d seemed more relaxed in the beginning but Hildebrand's question filled her eyes with a sudden joy. She was most encouraging of all. In a matter of seconds, Melchior had asked and received answers to an unspoken question from three different people. Hildebrand couldn’t be entirely sure what was even communicated but it seemed positive. He glanced at his own head attendant who returned only a polite noble smile.

“If you would like to meet them, I would be happy too,” he replied after a couple of seconds.

“Yes, I would,” Hildebrand assured him. Rather than proceeding out into the halls to hunt down his acquaintances, Melchior gestured to a boy with hair like polished steel and golden eyes full of curiosity and calculation. This was Sigsnyr his head apprentice knight. He then introduced each child in his retinue then his adult attendant who he described as his oldest friend and teacher. They knelt for first time greetings one at a time while Melchior shared amusing facts about their skills. Hildebrand already knew Kolteruze’s name but hadn’t known he had an interest in plants. The happy, pastel scholar was apparently highly skilled and had a passion for trends. His other scholar was in a quartet and knew every skilled musician on campus, the criteria for which seemed to exclude those just mildly skilled at harspiel but included good singers. Every fact was as interesting as the last and Hildebrand wanted to ask about all of them but each person stepped back into their place too quickly to interrogate.

“I cannot be sure who else we will meet in the halls but these are my closest friends and retainers,” Melchior concluded. He had a bright smile the entire time and seemed genuinely happy with each of them.

Second and a half bell rang. They’d been standing in front of Ehrenfest’s door blocking the exit for some time. “Let us see who we meet on the way to the library,” Hildebrand said. He began walking side by side with Melchior, much to his knights’ annoyance. They’d asked every time that he keep more distance but Hildebrand didn’t want knights between them. He felt a bit bad for vexing Sigsnyr now that he knew the young man was in charge of Melchior’s safety and loved magic tools, but he felt he was capable enough to protect Melchior’s side if anything went wrong. He also noticed that Gerianne switched shoulders so she could more easily step between them.

They made their way all the way to the foyer of the auditorium without being interrupted a single time. Hildebrand stopped. “It seems that no one you know is around,” he noted and glanced at the students bowing and hugging the walls. The moment he said it he realized how silly of an observation that was. If Melchior truly couldn’t walk ten steps without being waylaid, what was keeping people away was himself.

Melchior agreed. “I do not mean to suggest you are not kind and well liked but no one could dare approach you in the halls, your highness. I have spoken to many of these people before.”

There weren’t just a few people around. Hildebrand could easily say they’d passed fifty students and the halls were relatively quiet. It was a conundrum. Hildebrand looked to his retainers for advice. It would be both awkward and intimidating to summon people over just to talk to him even if Melchior was with him. Plus, if it seemed possible that knowing Melchior meant the chance to be bullied by a royal, nice people would stop talking to him and scheming people would start. After several seconds, his retainers had no answers and didn’t seem to understand the question. He called over his head attendant.

“I wish to meet some of the students,” Hildebrand said.

“We can summon them over if you like,” he offered. Hildebrand gave him a scowl which the man didn’t react to at all.

“I would like to be more subtle.”

“There is no need to be subtle, your highness. It is an honor to speak with you. They would be delighted to receive your summons.” Hildebrand knew from experience that a royal summons, no matter how casual, drove nobles of all statuses into mild panic. Even Rozemyne, the highest status non royal, still seemed anxious when summoned by the Zent. He sighed.

Seeing that his conversation was over, Melchior moved to get his attention. “Your highness, we have a solution to propose,” he said. Since the solutions thus far had been so poor, he instinctively prepared to be disappointed. “My scholar can go ahead and speak with people. Some are very shy or lack confidence in their etiquette and would therefore feel great anxiety because of your rank. I know more than a few people who would be happy to have the opportunity to speak with you and/or who are able to present themselves with proper comportment. It will not be a representative sample and some will use this opportunity to gain advantage, but you will be able to gain a sense of what my walks are like,” Melchior explained.

Hildebrand glanced at his retainers one last time. “That is a most generous offer. I will accept.” He also ordered his own scholar to follow so Isolde would be believed.

While she nearly skipped away into the halls, Flautzeal walked over to a group of three girls, who’d been bowing the entire time. Hildebrand gestured for everyone to rise and continue on their way. The foyer didn’t completely empty but many people seemed to think staying was a poor choice. The girls listened to Flautzeal, glanced at the prince and Melchior, then nodded to the young scholar before following him over. Melchior’s knights parted slightly and the girls knelt between Theodore and Zipporah

“May we offer a blessing…” the girl in a red cape began. Hildebrand received their blessings and bid them rise. Melchior introduced them as a group who frequented the auditorium foyer and shared an interest in traditional crafts from other duchies. Hildebrand asked about their favorites and learned about a technique called “wicker” which was popular in several duchies and involved weaving sticks into useful items. After a few more sentences, Melchior wished them well and promised to visit their duchies’ displays at the Interduchy Tournament. They bowed politely to the prince and moved back to their spot by the pillar. Hildebrand heard their stifled giggles as they walked away.

Where the path would normally be completely clear, there were some students waiting a little way into the hall. They fidgeted with excitement or anxiety, alone or in small groups. Each set was welcomed forward to kneel between Melchoir’s knights by a very specific facial expression. They all seemed to wait until they caught Melchior’s eye and received a warm smile. Hilderbrand quickly realized that all of them were archnobles. Not a single person gave a wrong greeting but some seemed to recite them as though they almost never used those words in that particular order.

The Prince was amazed to learn so many things about Yurgenschmidt and her students as well as Melchior himself. It was apparently well known that he liked to visit the library and could transcribe ancient text. People knew he liked to draw but no one had yet had the opportunity to see his art. His small guard knight had been away and several people expressed joy for her return.

It really did take an amazing amount of time to traverse the halls. “Conversations are not normally so long but I didn’t want to deprive you of quality while being unable to offer quantity,” Melchior said. Isolde fell back into her position with a satisfied smile. Hildebrand watched the way Melchior’s knights parted calmly for her to pass without a hint of worry.

“Thank you for your work. I greatly enjoyed meeting more students and learned many interesting things,” Hilderbrand replied. He was used to having many short conversations but people only talked about the same boring topics or probed for information he wasn’t able to give. “I didn’t know conversation could be so pleasant,” he admitted. Isolde took in a sharp breath. It made him feel a bit nervous at first before he remembered that she wasn’t going to report his mistakes to his mother. Her look of genuine delight also brought him a bit of joy.

They stepped over the library threshold and traveled toward the reading room. Approximately halfway down the hall, Schwartz and Weiss poped out of the office doors to greet them. “Milady has returned.” “Melchior is here,” they said.

They tottered up to the prince and waggled their fluffy tails. Hildebrand reached out and stroked their fur and faestones. Melchior also reached out and touched their buttons. Hildebrand almost told him to stay back before remembering that he was also registered with the Library Committee. They basked in the adorable cuteness of the shumils together for a few minutes. “Your highness,” Melchior said as they followed the library helpers to the reading room. “I know I asked to come this morning and am fully willing to assist as normal, but, If you would be kind enough to permit me, I wish to do sketches of Schwartz and Weiss.”

“Of course I permit you. Should we go to the second floor instead? The light is best there, no?” Hildebrand replied with a smile. He also briefly considered demanding sketches to hang in his room as payment for his generosity.

Melchior looked nervous all of a sudden. Proximity to Hildebrand often made people nervous and Melchior was not yet an exception, but this was of a different sort. He looked like he was trying to hide something. Prince Hildebrand narrowed his eyes. In his limited experience, Melchior wasn’t one for schemes. Hildebrand imagined that if he tried, he would give himself away immediately. This seemed to be true.

“I was hoping to show an acquaintance the archive. Lord Torsten is in his fifth year and will soon be called to complete a transcription,” he replied. Hildebrand didn’t actually regret agreeing to refuse others entrance but he felt like he should have pressed just a little. For one, If Melchior was planning a clandestine rendezvous, Hildebrand had made him late by insisting on meeting people in the halls. Additionally, he was looking forward to serving tea and hadn’t planned for extra guests.

He’d settled on egg tarts with fancily cut vegetables and honey pound cakes baked in individual decorative molds to be served with various toppings. Both were in limited quantities by their very nature. His upstairs guard reported that Kolteruze always prepared enough snacks for everyone and the librarians. His attendants speculated that this was the reason behind serving less expensive items over fancy desserts. Even if that was the case, Melchior had no obligation to provide tea for Hildebrand's retainers. That he did every time was amazingly generous.

“I believe I saw Lord Torsten on my way here. I hope he hasn't waited overlong. It was not my intention to delay you,” Hildebrand replied.

Melchior continued to fail at concealing his nervousness born of subterfuge as he replied, “We had no set appointment. I merely informed him that I would be visiting this morning and he might come if he wished.” While it didn't seem to be a lie, it was most certainly mired deeply in subtext.

“Then, shall we make our way down?” Hildebrand said. It took much self control to resist needling the younger boy. His fretting was so terribly amusing and refreshing in contrast to the cold duplicity of Sovereign nobles.

Melchior nodded and they made their way to the front desk. “Good morning, your Highness. Good morning, Lord Melchior. I see you've arrived together,” Professor Kriemhilde teased. Prince Hildebrand was never sure what Kriemhilde was implying but her sly smile told him it was a joke at his expense. She was never rude or cruel which somehow made it worse.

“Greetings Professor Kreimhilde. We happened to meet on our way here. I would like to go down to the archive,” he said. He wasn't sure why he needed to escape the twinkle in her eye but it made him feel embarrassed.

“I should be surprised if you did not. You are so diligent with your transcription. You requested that we turn away visitors but will Lord Melchior be joining you?” Melchior started a bit at his name. He’d stepped over to offer mana to the donation orb. Hildebrand's knights took this as an excellent opportunity to create a wall between them.

“Indeed he will,” Hildebrand replied. “I would also ask that you do not turn away Lord Torsten if he comes. I’d forgotten that I already agreed to his visit.” Isolde's movement caught his attention. Her swoopy braids bounced whenever she moved but bounced with particularly gusto this time. She was looking at him using only her peripheral vision. Hildebrand shot her a knowing smile. At this point, he was more interested in the intrigue than annoyed at having been used.

“Oh, Lord Torsten has already passed by. We informed him you would not be allowing visitors this morning. I believe he is still up on the second floor,” Kreimhilde replied. She offered to retrieve him but Hildebrand gestured to stop her.

“I see. Thank you for passing on my words. I will send someone to invite him down. Let us descend first,” the prince said.

Now Melchior looked even more nervous. It seemed he hadn't been planning to surprise Torsten with a royal summons but he would have to be uncomfortable. Hildebrand was involved now and had no plans to quietly excuse himself. He walked over to Melchior, vexing the knights once more and invited him to follow. Professor Aloysia appeared with the keys and their whole party descended.

The archive was opened. The librarians went back to their work and Melchior went inside by himself. Hildebrand watched as he sat at the stand closest to the barrier and called Schwartz over to pose. The shumil stood more still than any living creature could and than it ever had before until Melchior gave it a pat on the head. Hildebrand looked away from this delightful scene and called over one of his attendants.

He then walked over to Kolteruze. “Lord Kolteruze, this is my attendant Grauesfeld. He is in charge of the tea today. I previously promised to provide refreshment. If you have additional plans we would like to coordinate with you,” Hildebrand said. Kolteruze looked, first, amazed to be addressed directly, then, as though he was working hard to keep smiling.

“It would be my pleasure, your highness,” he replied. Hildebrand remained while the attendants discussed the location of the water and heating stones the librarians allowed them to use. The tea and snacks were explained as well as their limited quantities. Grauesfeld used this to offer a gentle chastisement that Melchior hadn’t disclosed a second guest.

Kolteruze recovered from his shock to place a hand on his cheek in a performative expression of worry. “And we have spent so long since Lord Torsten’s attendance was confirmed doing nothing to prepare,” he said. “Was Lord Torsten informed that he could bring tea and refreshments when you confirmed his appointment? I doubt he would impose upon his royal highness.”

The young attendant must have known Hildebrand had been lying. Yet he behaved as though it were absolute truth and even used it to question Hildebrand’s own retainer. Since his lord said it was so, Grauesfeld couldn’t acknowledge any alternatives either. In a matter of a few sentences, Kolteruze had shifted blame, questioned what Hildebrand’s attendants were doing if not working to solve the problem already, and reminded them that they had to uphold the duplicity. Hildebrand was amazed by the efficiency and embarrassed by his own lack of action.

Depending on how many archretainers Torsten brought with him, they could not provide seconds. If they brought additional snacks for the upstairs retainers and librarians, everyone would still receive a snack. There was also plenty of tea. It was a plan. Hildebrand turned to Grauesfeld and issued his orders. He was vague on the precise nature of the additional treats as his attendants would have a better idea what was on hand.

“If you would excuse a mere attendant to speak. You are being most generous, your highness. Lord Torsten will surely enjoy your hospitality. All the more so with a rich blend of tea,” Kolteruze said. Zargerecht paled just the smallest amount. His apprentice was taking it upon himself to advise a royal and his attendant on the simple task of serving tea. Yet, Hildebrand felt grateful. He wasn’t sure exactly what constituted a “rich blend” but his attendant seemed to know that it was a specific thing rather than a measure of quality. He also looked livid.

“Please prepare a second blend as well,” Hildebrand said and released his attendant to go about his work. Kolteruze didn’t follow the man up the stairs. He also couldn’t retreat from Hildebrand as much as his body language said he wanted to. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“It is an honor to be of use,” Kolteruze replied. Hildebrand wanted to strike up a conversation about Kolteruze’s plants, but he had other business to attend to. He sent his scholar to summon Torsten and walked into the archive.

Chapter Text

Torsten Sonn Berschmann

Melchior was quietly sketching. He was so focused that Hildebrand walked right up behind him and only received a reaction when his shadow fell over the page. The prince expected to be able to look over his shoulder but Melchior stood up in a flash and took several steps back. He moved toward the barrier and held a defensive stance despite having nothing but a small black stick to defend himself.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Hildebrand said. Schwartz looked on impassively.

Melchior stood up straight but didn’t move any closer. “You came up behind me without even a greeting.”

“You didn’t hear me?” Hildebrand replied. He moved to his usual seat and began preparing to write. “I suppose you are not very far in your knight training.” He couldn’t resist a small tease.

Melchior's ears turned a bit red again. “I have only learned the first forms,” he admitted. He also moved to sit back down.

“Still your instinct isn’t to freeze in fear. That’s good,” Hildebrand said using an impression of his knight instructor. Melchior gave him a rare scowl. He was very good at maintaining a calm smile even if his eyes occasionally gave away his true feelings. This time his look had turned serious when he felt threatened and he now seemed to be pouting. That was so many new emotions displayed so quickly after the smallest prank. It would be much harder not to tease Melchior in the future. “I only wanted to see your drawing. It is rare to have seen your art, I’ve learned recently.”

“You need only ask,” Melchior replied. He passed over his little book. The paper was a light cream with pretty flecks of yellow and blank anywhere Melchior hadn’t marked it. It was an entire Ehrenfest book, already bound, of completely blank paper.

Hildebrand turned it over in his hands. The pressed botanicals he’d come to expect were accompanied by a small painting of an ugly little plant with the title: “First Ambassador to the High Bishop's Office”. He flipped to the first page. There were over a dozen small drawings of ugly plants. “You also have a passion for plants?” Hildebrand asked as he flipped through pages and pages of tiny, poorly detailed pictures of flora. A page of small portraits of Melchior caught his attention. He looked up to compare them to the real thing and met an incredibly pale face.

“Those are not the portrait of Schwartz,” Melchior cried.

“They appear to be sketches of plants and of you,” Hildebrand replied nonchalantly. Now Melchior turned bright red. He reached out slowly then stopped.

“Please give it back,” he asked. No matter how much he wanted to snatch it from Prince Hildebrand, he couldn't treat a prince that way. Hildebrand was certain that even if he could, it would be no struggle to keep the volume out of his grasp. Melchior did not look weak but he was smaller for his age and hadn’t been training to the Dunkelfelger standard. Still, Hildebrand didn't want to annoy his only companion.

“My apologies, I lost the page,” he replied as he handed it back. Melchior flipped to the portrait and held it up for Hildebrand to see. He pretended not to notice the prince’s outstretched hand. If he wanted the book back, Hildebrand would have to ask. Instead he leaned forward for a better look. After the briefest moment, he noticed new people enter the antechamber.

Only three purple capes arrived. Two knights and an Archduke Candidate descended the stairs. Torsten looked around curiously while his knights scanned carefully. There were theoretically as many threats as people in the room so they remained tense but if Torsten wanted this clandestine meeting, he would have to accept the risk.

Hildebrand begrudgingly stood and walked out to welcome him as he normally would. The knights waiting next to the barrier stepped closer.

“Welcome, Lord Torsten.” The third son of Berschmann had short, wavy black hair, magenta eyes, and neatly trimmed facial hair. Beards were rare among the younger generations of Yurgenschmidt except for the students from Berschmann and Quandtreeb. Torsten’s therefore made him look older than fifteen, by its nature, and pointy, because of its cut.

Torsten stepped forward and knelt to offer his greetings, “...on this morning ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe, the God of Life.” They'd met five times before, so Hildebrand thought it was strange to kneel. Of course, Torsten knelt at all of their previous meetings too.

“I accept your greetings. You may rise. Indeed you need not kneel for so casual an occasion.” Torsten rose. His eyebrows seemed to be permanently downturned, making him look slightly angry at all times.

“Thank you for allowing me to visit the Archduke's Archive, your highness,” he said. His voice felt incongruous to the apparent age of his face.

“It is my duty to oversee and guide. Please come in,” Hildebrand gestured toward the barrier. Torsten approached cautiously, all the more so for having to go first yet seeing no actual entrance. His knights moved to the side of the black cloaks and attempted to enter.

“Not qualified,” Weiss reported. They looked testy and knocked on the invisible wall again just to be sure.

Hildebrand ignored them and entered himself. He missed the greeting but was just in time to hear Melchior say, “Congratulations on your beard, Lord Torsten. May it grow long with Dauerleben’s favor.”

“Ah… thank you, Lord Melchior. It is unusual to receive that blessing from those outside Berschmann.” He continued to stand and look around.

Hildebrand wasn't sure how to initiate a secret meeting nor what this one was supposed to be about. Torsten had no supplies either, so attempting to keep up the pretext of studying was impossible, unless he knew how to transcribe ancient languages. “Would you like to see a slate, Lord Torsten.”

The older boy jumped just a little at a voice behind him but didn't seem surprised. He was obviously incredibly nervous. “I would. Thank you, your highness.” Hildebrand sent Schwartz to retrieve a random tablet and set it down at the stand Melchior usually used. Once it finished it stood before Melchior again rather than taking up its normal post.

Torsten seemed reticent to sit right next to Hildebrand but sank slowly onto the bench anyway. They looked at the tablet together while Torsten tried not to look anxious about the prince leaning closer to him. Hildebrand recognized it as one of the diaries of a former Zent. Torsten touched it, ran his fingers over the letters, squinted at it, and eventually sighed. “I do not look forward to learning this.”

“Take heart. You need only learn to write it,” Melchior said. He’d placed down his sketch. “You can then have your scholars translate, though I believe it is extra credit to translate it yourself.”

The prince nodded. He remembered his mother saying she hoped that it would encourage more people to learn so Hildebrand could impress more people into his service.

Torsten regarded Melchior carefully. Hildebrand was curious what he hoped to learn that a mere glance couldn't tell him. “Can you read this?” he asked. Melchior and Hildebrand nodded. He paled. “Can Charlotte… Lady Charlotte read this?”

“I’m not certain how far Sister has progressed in her studies. I have no doubts that she can transcribe at a minimum,” Melchior replied. He absentmindedly gave Schwartz a pet since the shumil was in petting range. Torsten froze. As far as he knew, no one was allowed to touch the shumils except the librarians. The Library Committee could be identified by their armbands but they almost never wore them as they had no work to carry out in the reading rooms.

“You can touch the library’s magic tools?”

“I am a member of the Library Committee.”

Torsten visibly shivered. He glanced at the prince then Melchior. Something in him seemed to fall into place. “I see you have a fairly close relationship with the royal family. That is the nature of a greater duchy,” he muttered.

Of course Prince Hildebrand had noticed how lesser duchies and the lower ranks seemed to fear the royals and sought to avoid contact. Berschmann didn't generally have meetings with the Zent outside of all Aub gatherings. He wondered if inserting himself into this secret meeting was making it difficult to have. Torsten and Charlotte had some connection. If the young man was here to meet her younger brother as part of a larger courtship scheme, an interloper, and a royal one at that, was the last thing they wanted. He grabbed his half filled sheet from last time and rose.

“I must consult with my scholar. I fear it is a complicated question. We will speak again during our break,” he said and walked out.

His guards moved closer again and walked him over to his scholar. This scholar had some knowledge of ancient language. It wasn't as much as Melchior seemed to have, but it was slightly more than Hildebrand. He sat down and immediately realized he had nothing to discuss and hadn't brought extra paper to write or doddle on. He didn't want to open up an actual dialogue because he wanted to watch the conversation.

There was another person engrossed in watching the proceedings. “Lady Isolde,” Hildebrand called out. She didn't flinch but turned gracefully to flash him a cutting smile. It was so different from her usual sweetness that he almost lost his nerve. “We are struggling to understand this document and wondered if you might have insights.” She deepened the menace in her eyes but rose respectfully and came over to look at the page. He gestured for her to sit next to him rather than his scholar so she would still be able to see the archive. “Lord Torsten seems to be on titleless terms with Lady Charlotte,” he whispered. If he wanted a co-conspirator, he would need to make a show of faith.

She immediately looked less aggressive and more intrigued. Rather than look at Hildebrand or his paper for a moment longer, she looked back at the archive then leaned a bit forward to pretend to look at his paper. As she reached for it, he heard a slight clink beside him. It was just the wrong angle to be her bracelet. He didn't look down but slid his hand toward the sound. It was a sound-blocker.

Hildebrand’s heart fluttered. He dearly hoped he wasn't turning conspicuously pink as he wrapped his hand around it and moved it to his lap. His scholar regarded him suspiciously but couldn't question the sudden silence of Hildebrand’s voice. “Lady Isolde, you have something to say?”

“May I be candid, your highness?” her voice even had a bell like twinkle now that it was quiet enough for him to hear it. She seemed just as sweet as her master.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

“You have made it more difficult for me to read Lord Torsten's lips. I do not know what you wish to accomplish by calling me over but I know it has nothing to do with this partial transcription which I cannot even parse,” she whispered through a practiced smile.

Hildebrand tried very hard not to look at her but failed. Her colors, attitude, and neat scholar's outfit all gave the impression of a charming and gentle girl yet she spoke to him with all the force and fearlessness he’d never received from a stranger. He didn't know if he should be honest or not.

“Shall I guess?” she asked sweetly. He nodded, his curiosity at what she would say next at its peak. “I believe you are jealous of Lord Melchior's relationship with his retainers and hope to befriend them as well.”

“You don't seem to be counting yourself.”

“Friendship is for commoners. I warn him all the time but he does not listen. It is my job to ensure this does not bring him to ruin.”

He considered her words carefully. He wanted to watch the meeting with someone as interested in it as he was. The last clandestine meeting involving the engagement of an Archduke Candidate he’d witnessed here, his mother had spent the entire time trying to distract him then dragged him away before he could try to help. This time he just wanted to get a sense that no one was being coerced at least.

But Isolde's words stuck in his mind. “You think I am ruin?”

“You are the last prince of Yurgenschmidt. If you fail to marry into Alexandria you will be demoted to an archnoble without a duchy. If a new Zent accends, the same could happen before you even come of age. You are dangerous now and will be useless in the future. There is little benefit in your friendship.”

“Is that why you dare to speak to me so? I am still prince at this moment.” Now he faced her completely and gave his own menacing look.

“It would so dearly wound my lord should you bring me to harm,” she said in a sing-song. Her smile never once faltering. “You are too easy to read. Your fondness for him is a weakness far too easy to exploit. It will bring your enemies to our door.”

Hildebrand placed down his sound-blocker. He gazed into the archive where the two boys seemed to be chatting calmly. Torsten struggled to maintain a confident air while Melchior sat carefully poised. The prince didn't feel dangerous in the same way he didn't feel powerful. His attempt to intimidate a little girl had just failed after all. If archnobles could boldly upbraid him for being a bother, how powerful could he be.

He grabbed the magic tool again. “I do not wish to bring him ruin.”

“You should consider keeping your distance,” she replied without hesitation.

“And if I will not?”

“You mean if you cannot?” Now he was confused again. He could just choose not to spend time with Melchior. Nothing was forcing him to befriend the lad. He did it because he wanted to and because Melchior was the only person besides Letizia who seemed able to socialize with him regularly. “Can you give up your only friend?” Her words fell like a knife. He was friends with Letizia, but that was different. It was fraught with their looming future and constrained by their different sexes. She was kind and smart but she was not Rozemyne and couldn't be extricated from her shadow.

Melchior was kind and smart and a boy he wasn’t planning to marry. That he was Rozemyne’s adoptive brother was easier to handle even. Melchior was also currently the only person who could have a casual conversation with him. Could he give up such a person? Someone who would send his scholar to find him students to chat with and bring him treats and spend his hours deep underground doing tedious work just to make someone else’s life a bit easier.

“If I cannot?” he squeaked.

“You must make it worth the risks.”

“How do I do that?” he asked, suddenly feeling a tightness in his chest. Would it really be best to simply allow their friendship to fade after the term? There was little reason or opportunity for them to meet after this. But he had been so excited for the promise of next year's tea party.

“I do not know you well enough to say. Nor is it my job. I am not your scholar,” she said. She rapped her nails on the bench where she'd initially placed the sound-blocker. Hildebrand wanted to keep it and to press her for answers but the meeting in the archive seemed to be finishing up. No one was crying this time and no one had been Crushed. He took his paper and left the magic tool on his seat.

When he entered the archive they were laughing. “I believe it will be hard work, but I know it will be worth it for me and my duchy,” Torsten said with a glance toward Hildebrand. He didn't seem as afraid as before.

“You have my support,” Melchior replied.

“Thank you for your warm welcome, your highness. Lord Melchior, I…”

“Will you be staying for tea?” Hildebrand interrupted before Torsten could give his formal goodbye. He’d sent his attendants out to get extra snacks and everything.

“Ah, isn't food banned from the library?”

Hildebrand wanted to yell at someone. Kolteruze had only just chided them for failing to disclose that information. But, Hildebrand hadn't even explained that the archive only allowed entry to Archduke Candidates so he couldn’t chastise anyone for their incompetence without being hypocritical. “It is permitted to serve food and drink in the antechamber. It is not uncommon for Aubs doing serious research to order that their meals be brought here.” That was only Aub Drewanchel but he did it all the time.

Melchior gave him a smile of encouragement. “If you are offering, your highness, then I would be honored to partake,” Torsten said eventually. He was still standing up.

“If you like, I can teach you some of the letters. You can get an early start on your studies for next year,” Melchior offered.

“That would be very kind, thank you,” he replied and sat back down. Melchior went out to ask his scholar for paper. She produced a sheet with a bright smile and asked him a question. Whatever his replied, she looked deeply amused.

He returned with the paper and took the seat at the end of the row. Hildebrand chose not to investigate the feeling of annoyance that struck him once it was clear Torsten would sit between them. Melchior placed the sheet of paper on the stand next to Torsten's slate. He took a minute to read it then sent Schwartz for a different one.

“The Zent journals are all about obtaining the Grutrissheit. Even if you intend to seek it, I’m told they aren't very helpful,” Melchior said. He requested a tablet used frequently by Aubs of Berschmann.

“Is that a valid query?” Hildebrand asked.

Melchior nodded while Schwartz waddled off to do its job. “Professor Kreimhilde says that the shumils can answer any question that can be represented by a number. ‘Frequently’ is a bit vague but it seems to have been enough.” The slate was set down. All three boys leaned in to look at it. Torsten gave up immediately with a grumble about thinking he would gain anything by looking.

“Wow. It seems to be a ritual for accelerating and directing the growth of trees,” Hildebrand chirped.

Melchior nodded happily then turned to Torsten. “Do you think this is how the bridges were made?”

His droopy eyebrows lifted slightly. “It is very possible. There is a manual method as well, though it takes many years. Perhaps the oldest bridges from before Berschmann was established. We have records of the others.”

Both Archduke Candidates looked terribly excited. Hildebrand gave Schwartz a parchment and pen to deliver and passed an ink jar to Torsten. “What are these bridges you speak of?”

Melchior launched into a delighted explanation. Before the invention of highbeasts, people struggled to traverse the ravine filled jungles of what was now Berschmann so bridges were grown using trees. There was a particularly large one over a canyon near the capitol city which was built into the walls of said canyon before spilling out onto ivory plinths buried in the river.

“You know a great deal about our duchy,” Torsten marveled as he passed the ink over.

Melchior looked sheepish for a moment. “I only know about the interesting landmarks and monuments. I apologize. I should have allowed you to explain.”

“It is alright. It's wonderful to see someone so passionate. Since it is less well known, you may not have heard of the forked bridge over a confluence?” Torsten asked.

Melchior’s eyes sparked and he bounced in his chair. “I haven't, no.”

“I’ve made it seem more interesting than it is. It just connects three cliffs. In fact, it's possible to walk around it. We still use it a great deal because flying through or over the jungle isn't always desirable. There are places where it isn't possible to land from above.” Melchior couldn't seem more interesting if he tried. He spent so long asking questions that no tutoring was done before Schwartz announced that tea was ready.

The boys rose and exited while Torsten regaled them with tales of hair-raising flights through dense jungle. Having three Archduke Candidates standing so near each other gave the knights a difficult task. Hildebrand's wanted to overwhelm with their numbers but Torsten’s two guards were unwilling to back down. Only once they sat at a table to enjoy their snacks were the knights able to space themselves out to their liking.

Torsten didn't have an attendant. Even his adult attendant was a mednoble. The branch families of house Berschmann were so small, they had to focus on raising knights and they were nearly the only archnobles in the whole duchy. Hildebrand instructed one of his three archattedants to serve him before Zargerecht could take it upon himself.

Hildebrand took a moment to introduce the dishes and tea. There was jam, honey, cream, and poached roher available for the poundcake. Grauesfeld placed a cake with jam and an egg tart before his lord along with the tea selected for Melchior. Kolteruze and Grauesfeld’s assistant watched as he carefully arranged things to look most appealing. Kolteruze was openly frowning, much to Grauesfeld’s annoyance.

Melchior was presented with a tart only. He glanced at his attendant then at the other two. Torsten's attendant whispered with him about what flavor he would like then returned with poached fruit cut into a beautiful fan shape. Torsten eyed the cake as well then began on his tart after Hildebrand poison tasted the food on his plates.

“This tea is wonderful, your highness,” Melchior said brightly. He also ate the egg tart with elegant gusto. Hildebrand felt warmth spread through his chest. His efforts had been rewarded.

Torsten also seemed happy with the tart though he kept eyeing the cake without eating it. “I am very fond of this blend as well. I should not underestimate Sovereign attendants it seems.”

Hildebrand was delighted by their praise but felt something was off. Pound cake originated from Ehrenfest. It beggared belief that Melchior was unfamiliar with or disliked it. Torsten also seemed like he wanted to eat his portion but was restraining himself. Hildebrand looked at Kolteruze standing behind Melchior. He had an unreadable but pleasant smile. Hildebrand heard Isolde's words. Kolteruze was not his attendant and had no obligation to advise him on his mistakes or rescue him from embarrassment. He looked to his own attendant. Grauesfeld stepped forward.

“They do not seem to like the cakes,” he whispered. Grauesfeld looked at the other boys and the other retainer's taking the first turn to enjoy refreshments. The only people with cake were the Sovereign nobles and those who wanted jam.

“I think they are uninterested in the other toppings,” Grauesfeld replied. Hildebrand found this even more confusing. Had Torsten chosen poached rohers then decided he didn't like them without even tasting them?

Hildebrand thought back to the first time Rozemyne served this treat. Hildebrand remembered being excited to choose his toppings. He hadn't forgotten to introduce and explain them, nor were they particularly exotic. Melchior finished his tart then looked somewhat longingly at the cake but didn't request one.

Hildebrand tried to interpret the signals passed between lord and retainer. Melchior raised his eyebrows questioningly then Kolteruze flashed a queasy look for the briefest moment before Melchior nodded all but imperceptibly. He glanced at Torsten. Were the older boy not here, Hildebrand felt like he could just ask. However, Torsten's presence meant he couldn't show weakness and admit to his mistake.

He thought about Rozemyne's explanation, all the tiny bites of cake with different toppings she’d indicated then consumed. She seemed to like every topping but mostly enjoyed cream. “Do you also prefer cream with your cake?” Hildebrand asked once he simply couldn't find the answer.

“I enjoy cream and honey,” Melchior replied.

“Shall I have some packaged for you to take with you?” Hildebrand pressed.

“You need not extend yourself on my account,” Melchior replied after a brief glance at Zargerecht. Hildebrand had admitted his lack of stock earlier after all. Was Melchior deferring out of kindness? “It is interesting to me that both Flutrane and her subordinate Verfuhremeer wield a staff. Do you suppose Kunstzeal carries a shield?” he asked, changing the subject rather abruptly.

“It seems possible. She might need one as all Schutzaria’s ladies protect something,” Torsten replied. His tone was suggestive. Like he wanted his comment to be interpreted as a euphemism. It already was a euphemism as far as Hildebrand knew. It meant that all three kinds of retainers were responsible for their lord’s safety. Torsten didn't have his normal attendants and had been served cake while Melchior had highly skilled attendants and hadn't. Was Kolteruze protecting him from something?

Melchior gestured to Kolteruze who looked slightly put upon but dutifully walked over to Grauesfeld. At first, the older attendant looked annoyed, then he went pale before giving a huff and all but stomping over to the serving cart. He returned with a slice of poached fruit decoratively dolloped with cream and drizzled with honey. “You must taste them for poison,” he whispered.

Now Hildebrand went pale as he carefully took a bite of the other three toppings. Before he even finished, Kolteruze arrived with a cake finished with cream and honey. Torsten also happily began on his dessert. Hildebrand almost shook with embarrassment.

Melchior and Torsten behaved as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “These cakes are so pretty. How do you make them in such an elaborate shape?” Melchior asked.

“I’m overjoyed by your praise. We use specially shaped pans,” Hildebrand replied, doing his best not to let his voice crack.

“The metalworking skill of Sovereign smiths is astounding,” Torsten added.

They carried on a conversation about Berschmann’s local tradition of weaving living plants into structures and creating decorated but utilitarian stoneware pottery. Thinner products with more refined details were the current trend so they were struggling to gather interest in other duchies. “Our only claim to superiority is in glaze work and decorative firing but the current trend is for solid colors and painted designs.” Torsten explained.

After enjoying a harrowing and longer than normal repast, Hildebrand made to return to his work. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today's threads with exceptional grace and speed. I did not anticipate this morning that I would spend such a lovely time here. Thank you both for your warm welcome,” Torsten said.

Melchior blushed. “I spent all our tutoring time asking frivolous questions. You taught me so much and I was unable to give recompense.”

“Your curiosity has been repayment enough. It is rare that I have the opportunity to speak about my people and our home. Your highness, I pray that you live well with the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves the threads of our fates together once again,” Torsten said and bowed in farewell.

His knight that hadn't had a chance to eat looked so sad as they filed away. Zargerecht followed them upstairs. Hildebrand could only wonder why while he walked back towards the barrier.

“Weiss, can you switch with Schwartz?” Melchior asked suddenly.

“No switching,” Weiss replied.

“I see. Can you sit on this bench?” He indicated to the end of a bench across from a second one.

“I can sit. I cannot jump,” Weiss replied and stood next to the bench. As the library shumils were not real shumils, they weren't actually very good at jumping. They had good balance so little stairs and ladder-like protrusions existed all over the library for their exclusive benefit. Melchior set down his blank book and lifted the magic tool onto the bench with obvious strain.

Kolteruze walked over immediately. “My lord, you should not lift so much weight. Please call me when you need assistance.”

“You cannot touch Weiss,” Melchior replied.

“The protection magic begins as only a light sensation. I would barely be affected by it,” Kolteruze explained.

Melchior looked horrified. “There is no need for you to risk harm to yourself,” he cried.

“Weiss, Kolteruze may help you up and down from the bench,” Hildebrand directed.

Weiss and Schwartz looked at Kolteruze intently.

“Kolteruze can help. Kolteruze can touch,” Weiss said.

“Thank you, your highness,” Melchior said with a slight bow mirrored by his attendant. They didn't even seem to have coordinated it as they moved in unison on some shared instinct.

Melchior sat across from the shumil and opened his book. Hildebrand realized this meant he was staying outside the archive. The prince had no excuse to remain as well though he wished to spend what was possibly his last opportunity to see Melchior, his only friend, with Melchior. But Isolde's words still cut through his mind. His fondness was too obvious.

There would be nothing to do in the antechamber except watch Melchior and Melchior didn't like to be watched. Hildebrand felt a deep jealousy toward Kolteruze who stood behind his lord openly observing every pen stroke. Hildebrand had tried to plan a nice tea party and failed at every turn where the apprentice attendant was flawless. He was still a child yet he was more skilled than Hildebrand's own attendants.

He would not be more skilled than Arthur, came an unbidden thought. Hildebrand tried to push it out of his mind and began transcribing the half finished slate he’d made no additional progress on. His attention moved to the materials and tablet abandoned by Melchior and Torsten. Hildebrand didn't even feel upset that his transcribing partner hadn't done any work and used him to set up a secret meeting. He felt sad he couldn't be a better accomplice.

At approximately a quarter to fourth bell, Zargerecht began to press his lord to leave. Hildebrand wanted to walk Melchior back to his dormitory so he began to clean up too. Of course. Melchior only needed to close his book while Kolteruze helped Weiss down from the bench. Hildebrand had to collect the spare materials from earlier, wash his quill, and send the tablets back with Schwartz. He would never make it if Melchior chose to leave as quickly as possible.

In an unexpected turn of fortune, Isolde pulled the retinue into a conversation. She glanced at Hildebrand, met his eyes, then continued to speak. Zargerecht looked annoyed by her lengthy speech. After a second glance, Hildebrand realized she was stalling for him. He couldn't fathom why she would do something so kind nor was he going to question it right now. He moved as fast as he could and took up his folder to leave.

Once outside the archive he realized he’d forgotten about summoning the librarians. He was planning to return after lunch but if something delayed him, it would be bad to leave the archive open overnight and rude to call the librarians after closing time. He instructed his attendant to send the ordonnanz and wondered for the first time, why it wasn't automatically sent when it was obvious he was leaving. Anytime he left with his folder it meant he was leaving long enough that the doors needed to be shut. He would talk to Grauesfeld about making that one of their signals.

Melchior approached a bit nervously. “There are generally different people around in the afternoon. We won't have as much time as everyone will need to return to their dormitories for midday meal, but would you like to talk with more people?” Isolde looked smug while Zargerecht maintained a calm smile.

Hildebrand felt relieved. He didn't want to ask Melchior to introduce him to more people as much as he wanted to meet more people. “That would be most agreeable. Thank you for your generosity,” Hildebrand replied.

Aloysia and Kriemhilde entered the antechamber. Aloysia gave a furtive sigh like she always did while Kriemhilde looked deeply amused by something. Hildebrand pulled the chain from beneath his clothes and moved into his position.

Once the doors were shut, Hildebrand turned back to Melchior. The tea and snacks had yet to be cleared away. He instructed his attendants to clean up while he exited with Melchior. It was this moment that his guards always referred to as the most annoying. The stairs were too narrow to permit more than three people to stand across. By ascending next to Melchior, he was making it impossible for his guards to protect him from the Archduke Candidate.

Hildebrand glanced at Sigsnyr. He wondered if Melchior's three archknights felt similarly vexed. Hildebrand paused at the bottom and gestured for Melchior to ascend first. His own guards sighed with relief while Melchior’s regarded him with slightly narrowed eyes. They still escorted their lord in a formation that separated him from Hildebrand much like his own knights.

At the top of the stairs, Pepin waited in the close-stack archive next to Theodore and Gerianne. Hildebrand wondered why a mednoble attendant would come to the library when there was nothing for them to do. Was it just to keep the knights company?

Schwartz and Weiss followed them to the exit and gave their farewells. On the way, Flautzeal fell back into place next to Isolde. He’d almost forgotten about the second year scholar. It was strange for a scholar to be taken on so early but he was just another oddity in a collection of oddities which surrounded Melchior.

Hildebrand had to part his knights once again to walk near his friend. How did they expected him to carry on a conversation through a wall of people? Isolde skipped away into the halls. Hildebrand wondered how she became so fearless.

“Thank you for allowing me to draw Schwartz and Weiss even when it meant I was of no use to you,” Melchior said.

Hildebrand smiled and tried very hard to resist his base instincts. “All may be forgiven,” he said. “Though I should like a reward for my assistance,” tumbled out anyway.

Melchior tensed. He managed not to drop poise but his ears colored. “What manner of compensation can I offer one such as yourself?”

“I’m told art by a certain young painter is very difficult to come by,” Hildebrand replied. He couldn't stop his cheeks from rising into a massive smile.

“You would like an entire painting?” Melchior sighed. He seemed to be calculating something in his head.

“It need not be so elaborate. It just… seems quite vain to hang a sketch of myself.”

“I cannot give you anyone's likeness without their express permission,” he replied quickly. Hildebrand almost stopped walking. Even if that wasn't technically true since Hildebrand could order him to give him almost anything, that his mind conjured up the possibility of such a request gave him pause. What did Melchior think he was like? Did he agree with Anastasius that Hildebrand was dangerously obsessed?

Before he could defend himself, their first interlocutors stepped out from the wall. Melchior invited them over with his warm smile and introduced them to the prince. They chatted about their research; something to do with making square faestones. After a brief talk they gave farewells.

“I would not ask for something like that,” Hildebrand whispered once they were moving again. “I meant to say that I should like a drawing of Schwartz and Weiss.”

“I apologize for making assumptions, your highness,” Melchior said. “That will not be difficult.”

“I shall look forward to it,” Hildebrand chirped. They walked slowly on, talking to a couple more people before Melchior paled. Hildebrand looked ahead and saw Isolde talking to Lord Leibshitze of Dunkelfelger, a frequent donator to the Divine Instruments. “Do you dislike him?”

“I enjoy the company of Lord Leibshitze very much. It is just…” he seemed loathed to speak ill of the boy even as he caused such anxiety.

“Lord Leibshitze is the Gewinnen prodigy, no?” Hildebrand tried to recall all Melchior had mentioned about him. It was really just that he was skilled at the board game.

“He is very good at Gewinnen, in my amateur opinion,” Melchior was visibly fretting as they drew near. Isolde's pensive expression resolved into a noble smile by the time they were close enough to speak.

“Lord Melchior, your highness” Leibshitze called happily. He stepped into the space left by the knights and knelt.

“Your highness, this is Lord Leibshitze of Dunkelfelger. He aspires to be a scholar of the sword and has a blossoming interest in rituals.” Melchior’s introduction was timid. Compared to all the people he barely knew, he was less effusive than he might have been.

“May I pray for a blessing in honor of this serendipitous meeting held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth?” Leibshitze intoned carefully.

“You may,”

“May Prince Hildebrand be blessed,” he said and shot a small red blessing from his ring. Melchior continued to look pale. Hildebrand realized it was because this friend was poorly trained in etiquette.

“Please rise, Lord Leibshitze. We have already met before. Melchior tells me you have a passion for Gewinnen. Are you interested in rituals as well as the Divine Instruments?”

“Yes, your highness. I participated in my very first true ritual with Lord Melchior and was amazed by the sense of togetherness we shared,” Leibshitze said brightly.

“He was my partner for Prayers and Rituals,” Melchior explained.

“Then it was just the two of you?” Hildebrand asked. He wasn't sure why that annoyed him. Perhaps it was his own memories of the class Letizia had passed with ease while he struggled to summon a drop of mana in Geduldh’s chalice.

Leibshitze nodded.

“You are training to be a knight. Have you chosen a preferred weapon?” Hildebrand tried to guess based on the distribution of his muscle mass but Leibshitze was too young and too new to have much.

He seemed excited by the question. “I’ve yet to choose. I enjoy the spear and sword very much. Will you continue with the sword, Your highness? Which is your favorite, Lord Melchior?”

Melchior gestured for Hildebrand to speak first. “I think I will. I’ve been growing a mana blade for some time. It would feel like a terrible waste to put it aside after so many years of reliable service.” They both turned to Melchior.

He seemed pensive. “I have only used a sword so far. My training has not been as extensive as what is required of Dunkelfelgerians. I do not mind it but I hope to learn the staff one day,” he looked pointedly at Leibshitze. “I don't think Flutrane's staff is for fighting but it would be very pretty for a weapon dance.”

“Are there dances for weapons other than swords?” Hildebrand mused. He couldn't recall hearing about them. Perhaps his mother would know.

“Not that I know of,” Leibshitze said. He bounced happily. “If there isn't, we can always make one,” he declared.

Fourth bell rang while they stood chatting. Both Melchior and Leibshitze seemed pulled by the sound. “We must return,” Melchior said. He began walking towards the teleportation hallway. Leibshitze fell into place on his other side. Gerianne moved him over slightly. He made no effort to resist and maintain the new distance.

“Does that happen all the time?” Hildebrand had to ask.

“What do you mean, your highness,” Melchior asked.

“I mean your knights moving Lord Leibshitze.”

“Yes, I try to walk as I normally would with a friend. It seems to be too close,” Leibshitze replied. He also smiled at Gerianne.

“I apologize for the rough treatment,” Melchior said.

“Not at all, my lord. Your safety is what’s most important,” Leibshitze replied then inexplicably turned bright red.

Melchior shook his head. “You needn't call me that. In fact, I believe we are close enough now to eschew honorifics if you would like.”

Hildebrand tensed. The sentence wasn't directed at him but he felt momentarily delighted by the sound of it.

“I… I couldn't, Lord Melchior. Thank you for offering.”

They came within range of Dunkelfelger’s door. Several students hurried in at Hildebrand's gesture. For a moment he wished his mere presence didn't interrupt people's day.

“We will meet again soon, Lord Leibshitze,” Melchior began. He took a deep breath and glanced at Hildebrand.

“It was good to meet you. I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven the threads of our fates tightly together, Lord Leibshitze,” the prince intoned.

“May our threads be woven tightly together,” Leibshitze said confidently. He smiled as though he'd accomplished a great feat then dashed off without a bow.

Melchior couldn't actually get more pale at this stage. He turned to Hildebrand, crossed his arms, and bowed his head. “There is no need to apologize. I asked to meet your friends. If Lord Leibshitze is not yet prepared to socialize with royalty that is not your fault. I do not hold it against either of you though it is best we do not introduce him to Mother just yet.”

“Still, I must show contrition. Thank you for your magnanimous grace,” Melchior said. He gave a final bow before lifting his head and leaning slightly in the direction of his door. They continued the last few steps.

“You may call me by my name, if you like,” Hildebrand said in a shock to himself as much as everyone else.

Melchior’s eyes grew wide and Isolde stifled a giggle. Gerianne regarded him with narrow eyes. “That is untrue, your highness. No one is allowed to do that. It would invite misunderstand,” Melchior said.

“What is there to misunderstand?” Hildebrand mused. Before anyone could comment he continued, “I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time has woven our threads tightly together.”

“May our threads be woven tightly together,” Melchior replied as he and his entire retinue gave way and lowered their heads.

Hildebrand paused for a second. They had been speaking casually only a moment before. Now, seeing his friend huddled close to the wall, respectfully demure, he felt very lonely. He could not linger however. There were other students unable to reach their dorms while Prince Hildebrand was between them and the doors.

His knights reformed their wall as he turned and walked away. Would this truly be their last conversation?

Chapter Text

Culmination of Worries

The obligatory post prince meeting couldn't wait until after lunch. Wilfried had graciously moved training so that Melchior could have his excursion and Wilfried could take Melchior's knights in the afternoon. Thus they had lunch in a meeting room, under a sound-blocker yet again.

“How can the nation's best attendants be so terrible,” Kolteruze ranted. He was in a rare mood; at once angry, annoyed, and sad. “Is it some new form of cruelty to give a prince those forsaken by Mestinora? He didn't give him everything for a poison test. The simplest task ever.” He took several deep breaths to try to calm down.

“Goodness, even Pepin is more conscientious and he’s only a third year mednoble,” Isolde clucked.

“We cannot compare a child from an attendant family to those who received training only through the Royal Academy. I imagine his highness’s attendants were honor students without the background to be hired in their own duchies,” Zargerecht said.

“Don't duchies send their best nobles to the Sovereignty?” Melchior asked.

Isolde shook her head and set down her fork. “Duchies cannot send those they cannot afford to lose nor those unqualified. What remains are those with a shallow depth of skill and good credentials,” she said.

“Torsten's guards seemed pretty good,” Nikolaus observed. The three archknights all agreed on this point. “Did the second one manage to get some cake?”

“Yes, Zargerecht made sure something was sent with Torsten's attendant,” Pepin replied.

“Who's retinue are we?” Kolteruze grumbled. “Why am I advising royal retainers?”

“You are a very good attendant, Kolteruze,” Melchior said. He tried to give an encouraging smile. Kolteruze didn't seem to get any satisfaction from being superior to the nation's best attendants.

“We must discuss important business. You can express your frustration another time. I suggest using your hidden room,” Zargerecht chided. He looked pointedly around the room at the grumpy children. Even if they were young, they could not be this emotional.

“That is true. What shall we discuss first?” Melchior asked. So much had occurred since breakfast. “How did you choose the students to talk to, Isolde?” He was amazed that Leibshitze could pass her rigorous testing.

“I selected people you’ve spoken to before, who had proper manners, and interesting things to talk about. Then I simply asked if they wished to meet the prince and applied a bit of pressure if I thought they should anyway,” she explained.

“A bit of pressure?” Flautzeal asked.

“You would be amazed by how motivating it is to imply that their name would be given alongside the phrase ‘they did not wish to meet you’,”

“Isolde, why would you threaten all those kind people?” Melchior wailed.

“It was only two or three and we know they are polite but cannot yet know how kind they are. Did you have any bad encounters?” she countered calmly.

“No.”

“Then it is alright,” she declared.

“What did you speak with his highness about?” Zargerecht asked. Melchior was a bit confused by this question. He didn't remember Isolde saying more than a polite greeting.

“I will inform Lord Melchior after our meeting,” she replied.

“See that you do,” Zargerecht snapped. He hadn't forgotten that she never disclosed Nikolaus's conversation with Aub Alexandria.

Isolde flashed him a very fake smile and tossed her braids. “Since we are on the topic. What did you discuss with Lord Torsten? Tell us what you can.”

Everyone looked curiously toward Melchior. He took a moment to think and swallow his food. He’d talked to Torsten about a couple of things but their conversation hadn't been as straightforward as planned.

“It is hard to explain. He asked me to order a hairpin if their engagement is announced at the Archdukes Conference,” he began.

“If?” Isolde asked.

Melchior nodded. “Charlotte has given him a task. If he can remain within mana sensing range, their engagement will stand. In that case, he will escort her for graduation. As Berschmann is much too low ranked to command trade slips, he must ask someone from Ehrenfest to make the order on his behalf.”

“Did you agree?” Zargerecht asked with resignation. In truth he already knew the answer.

“Yes. I agreed to order the hairpin. He will send reference materials later. I ask that Isolde and Flautzeal try to complete the trade such that Charlotte does not find out.” The scholars smiled and promised to accomplish the task. “I also agreed to consult the Aub about sharing my knowledge of mana compression.”

Every utensil froze. “Lord Melchior,” Zargerecht muttered.

“I made sure to say that I was not at liberty to share. I think we can take Father's agreement as an endorsement,” he suggested.

“Why offer him so much help?”

“Charlotte likes him and he likes Charlotte, at least I think he does. He claims he is pursuing this marriage for purely political reasons but he cannot talk about her without adding additional compliments. It is confusing,” Melchior explained. He was still the only one eating normally.

“Mana Compression is a private and secretive thing. You cannot so easily give away such knowledge,” Zargerecht insisted.

“I haven’t told him anything yet. I only promised to ask.”

Isolde sighed. “You are too easy to take advantage of. Whether he develops enough mana is his own burden.”

“If we want him to marry Charlotte. Shouldn't we help?” Melchior asked.

“Why would we favor him over the other candidates?” Zargerecht questioned. “This is not for us to decide as your retainers,” he added with a pointed look.

“I will discuss things with Charlotte and send a report home before making anymore moves,” Melchior promised. He pondered all the other things he’d talked about, the advice he’d given on choosing warm clothing, and his assurances of familial affection. It suddenly felt like a bad idea to admit to anything else. “Besides that we talked about the crafts and monuments of Berschmann.”

Isolde pinched the bridge of her nose. “So much potential wasted,” she muttered.

“Was there anything interesting?” Pepin asked.

Melchior’s guarded expression softened immediately. He talked about wanting to see the pottery and his interest in their special boats. “Torsten has an amazing highbeast. He says it is actually based on a bird which he learned how to ride for real. They can fly and run really fast and jump around in trees,” he expounded.

“You spent your carefully orchestrated, secret meeting talking about fun highbeasts?” Isolde asked in disbelief. Melchior nodded happily. “Was there anything else of importance shared?”

“If you don't want to hear about fun facts, then no,” he replied. It felt wrong to talk about their mutual struggles as youngest siblings in front of so many other people.

Pepin and Nikolaus did want to hear about fun facts so he told them all about the bridges. At least Kolteruze was also interested.

Once everyone was done eating and lunch was cleared away. The older knights were excused. Melchior also began to leave but Zargerecht put him back in the chair. He placed down two sound-blockers and gestured for Isolde to sit closer.

“You talked to Hildebrand?” Melchior asked. He'd nearly forgotten but now he was very curious. The prince seemed much happier to meet Melchior’s retainers than Raphaela was. He also hadn't been chastised this time. It was good that they were already getting to know one another since Hildebrand would see them a lot as they began to spend more time together.

“Yes. I told him he has to bring benefits to your mutually beneficial relationship or end it before it brings you harm,” she said calmly.

He was so surprised he couldn't speak. Prince Hildebrand was his friend, not a social connection to exploit. He was also a royal. “Not in those words, surely,” Melchior sputtered.

“Very nearly. We used a sound-blocker. No one would believe him even if he complained and he won't,” she declared.

Melchior rested his forehead on the table. Zargerecht touched his shoulder but having been forced out of the conversation, wasn't sure what was wrong. He could only give Isolde a reproving glare. “He won’t wish to be my friend anymore,” Melchior whispered. A tear darkened his pant leg. He sat up. “How could you do this? I said I wanted to be friends with him! Why would you be so mean?” Melchior cried. His whole body felt hot while his eyes felt cold.

Isolde flinched. “You are Crushing me,” she squeaked. He placed a hand over his eyes. Isolde sighed with relief. She was used to annoying people but she had never been Crushed by so much mana. “I was frank. You have offered him so much and he has returned nothing,” she continued.

He’d only made three friends and two of them had earned lectures merely for associating with him. Melchior shivered. Pale blue light leaked off of him. “I do not need anything in return. I am happy just to spend time with him. I enjoy helping him. Why can't we just be friends!” He squeezed his eyes closed. He felt for a moment that he genuinely wanted to hurt someone and that was a terrifying feeling.

Isolde was not the sort of person to back down. She felt justified in her actions. “It is my job to ensure you are not taken advantage of. He will not stop trying to spend time with you. He likes you too much. Instead he will look for ways to repay your kindness.”

“How do you know? What if you are wrong!”

“I am not wrong,” she replied. He’d even asked her how to do it. She didn't feel like she should say that. Hildebrand had looked so desperate and sad. That wasn't something she could disclose.

Isolde had never seen someone break a sound-blocker. It simply popped in his little hand. There was a loud crack then the sound of Zargerecht rushed in along with a momentary cacophony of everyone’s breathing and pulse and many unidentifiable noises. It only stopped when she tossed her magic tool away.

“Lord Melchior, what happened? What’s wrong?” Zargerecht cried. He knelt down to look into Melchior's face seemingly unable to notice the mana leaking from the boy. “Why are you covering your eyes?”

Instead of answering, Melchior took many deep breaths. His chest heaved for several minutes and he took several big swallows of air before the aura receded. “What if you are wrong? How do you know? Why would you bully him?” Melchior asked more calmly. “He is my friend. Why…” he went from raging to sobbing. Tears streamed from behind his hand.

“I believe you should retire to your room, my lord,” Zargerecht cooed.

“Isolde cannot come to my room,” he replied. He faced her but didn't move his hand. “Do not do this again to anyone else. If you feel I am being exploited then tell me. Do not… do not be mean to my friends,” he wept.

Seeing him so distraught would crush anyone's fighting spirit. Isolde hung her head. “I am sorry. I was only trying to protect you.”

Melchior’s entire body wracked with sobs. He wanted his relationships to be uncomplicated. Having scholars and attendants, in addition to knights, standing wary and guarded between him and those he wanted to befriend was exhausting. Leibshitze couldn't even walk next to him. Melchior couldn't even try the cake Hildebrand had prepared to share. Were there really so many enemies in the world?

Nikolaus struggled to keep a straight face. He felt tears pricking his own eyes as the entire room was filled with broken weeping. Zargerecht looked at Isolde. There was no glare this time. It was beyond that now. “What did you say?”

“I said I would tell Lord Melchior and I have,” she maintained.

Zargerecht rested a hand on Melchior's shoulder. He looked back and forth between the scholar and her lord. “Leave. Do not return until you are summoned,” he ordered.

“You are not my lord,” she replied.

“Please leave,” wailed Melchior. There would be no fighting this time. She would not bully Zargerecht as well as Hildebrand.

Isolde stood up immediately and backed away. A look of genuine fear filled her eyes. There really was no room for interpretation or argument. She could only bow and retreat to her own hidden room.

Zargerecht felt similarly unmoored. He could only guess at what was said. “Will you tell me what happened?” he asked. He took Isolde’s abandoned chair and sat down across from Melchior. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Melchior didn't respond. A bad sign. Zargerecht collected the broken tools and brushed the broken bits of faestone into a handkerchief.

“I’m s…sorry I broke your magic tool,” Melchior sputtered.

“Oh, it wasn't mine. It was from your chambers,” Zargerecht teased.

The boy's shoulders fell. “Are they expensive?” he asked. It would be even more devastating if his little emotional outburst ended up costing a small fortune. He swallowed a completed faestone and began assembling a new one. It felt like so much work after making so many but he needed to calm down before he Crushed someone else.

“It is more that we do not have the materials to brew a new one,” Zargerecht explained. “There is another set in your room. Do not worry.”

Melchior sighed. His eyes finally began to feel warm. Zargerecht set a neatly folded handkerchief down in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my lord.” Now that he seemed calmer, Zargerecht tried to open the conversation from a different angle. “As we are speaking about magic tools, where is your's?” This seemed to distract him but also elicited a strangely anxious reaction. It wasn't on his belt so it was likely in his room. While Zargerecht couldn't condone walking around without one, it wasn't uncommon for children to decide spontaneously that they'd outgrown the need of it.

“It is in my hidden room. I wanted to make more progress in mana compression. I realize it is dangerous,” he said with a defeated tone.

“It seems you’ve been lectured already,” Zargerecht observed. “We should return to your room in that case.” Melchior rested his forehead on the table and muttered under his breath. “You will have to speak up.”

“It is in Ehrenfest castle. I forgot to bring it after the Dedication Ritual.”

Nikolaus let out a stifled cry. Zargerecht just shook his head. How incredibly dangerous. “It is not as bad as it could be. Lady Florencia can retrieve it for you,” Zargerecht assured him with a pat. Had it been in the temple there would be nothing to do but send him back.

Melchior tensed and looked up. “Please do not tell Mother?” he begged. “She will be so disappointed.”

“I could not keep something so important from Lady Florencia. I know you wish to be reliable and independent but it is ok to rely on one's parents from time to time.” This did nothing to reassure his lord. Melchior still saw his mother's worried face and the complicated anger that slipped away behind her pleasant smile. Were she to learn he’d done even more dangerous things, he could only imagine her pain.

“Please, Zargerecht,” he begged again.

“Lord Melchior, she will ask me about your health and how your year went. I cannot omit such important happenings as this from my report,” Zargerecht replied softly. They had this exact conversation every time Melchior cried and needed to be comforted. Zargerecht was Lady Florencia's retainer charged with the care of her precious son. Of course he had to tell her. “Do not worry. She is not cruel or unreasonable. If you explain your reasons she is sure to understand. Was it not so last time?”

The glassy, far-away stare of resignation filled Melchior’s countenance. Something about this was different from his previous breakdowns or tantrums. There was little he wouldn't tell his mother all on his own. Zargerecht just wasn't sure why. He dabbed Melchior’s cheeks with the handkerchief and gave him a reassuring smile. “Let us return to your room anyway. You brought storage faestones. You can use those. It will help,” Zargerecht coaxed.

Melchior nodded and rose. He’d obviously been crying but there would be few people in the halls during the knights training and other afternoon activities.

Putting a Boy Back Together Again

The walk back to Melchior's room was as calm as predicted. He could hear other students chatting happily and moving around but almost no one crossed his path. Once he was once again sitting at a table, he rested his head against it.

Melchior felt exhausted and sick. All his compact emotions carefully stored in his imaginary stomach always made him feel ill when he thought about them. But that was better than having them break apart. He was alternating between piecing together his heart and compressing his mana.

Zargerecht sat down across from him again. “It is impressive that you have managed the agitations of your mana purely with compression. There are several downsides to that method, however.” Having been sent out of the meeting room earlier, Melchior's apprentice attendants were surprised to see him looking distraught. Kolteruze brought over tea for Zargerecht too. He stood to the side as though waiting for a command but was obviously watching and listening. Pepin meanwhile was even less subtle. He sat down in another chair at the table. Zargerecht looked back and forth between them but decided against sending them away. Repairing a broken lord was an important skill for attendants.

“It takes a long time?” Melchior offered when details were not forthcoming.

Zargerecht sipped his tea. “There is that and you must be in the right state of mind for compression. There will be times when you need to focus on the task at hand and will not be able to spend several minutes in silence compressing your mana,” he explained.

“Does it truly take so long?” Melchior asked. He felt sure it was only ever a few moments.

“Dregarnuhr likes to play tricks when our attention is on other things.” Zargerecht smiled nostalgically at his lord's embarrassed pout. It always made an appearance when he learned he had not been as subtle or composed as he assumed. “It also means you are not expelling mana. Having more mana is generally seen as a good thing but it makes controlling our emotions more difficult. It makes one more prone to making decisions without logical reasons and reacting on impulse rather than proactively moving according to plans. Have you been finding it harder to think things through before acting?”

Melchior didn't want to admit that his decisions as of late had been less than logical. If it was truly due to an overabundance of mana, would expelling more mana help him relax or alleviate some of his confusions? “I find it harder and harder to understand the world,” he admitted.

“Ah. That is just growing up. We begin to ask questions we never did before,” Zargerecht explained. “It can help to ask others about things we do not know.”

Melchior nodded. Speaking with Sylvester and Rozemyne had helped a great deal. Indeed, everyone he talked to showed him new things to consider and ways to understand.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Zargerecht asked again. Now that Melchior had grown both calm and pensive, he would be easy to interrogate.

“Isolde said some very harsh things to Prince Hildebrand. I am worried she hurt his feelings. What if he wants to punish her or stops being my friend?” he said.

Pepin and Zargerecht shared a glance. Isolde said harsh things to everyone. They were neither surprised nor could they fully understand without more context.

“I do not think he would do either of those things,” Pepin assured him. “Do you know what she said specifically?”

Melchior nodded. He’d been completely unwilling to elaborate earlier but now presented all the facts he knew including his observations from after he presumed the incident to have occurred. “I even rudely implied he wanted iconography,” he wailed.

“His highness seemed surprised but not offended by that,” Pepin said. “There is no need for alarm.”

“I do not agree with her methods but she is not wrong. You have been very generous but received little,” Zargerecht added. Melchior looked as though he'd been struck in the face. “You might not wish to ask for anything in return but you are accepting great risks by befriending a royal. I attempted to warn you away for this very reason.”

“Why is he so dangerous?” Melchior asked. He was royalty but that wasn't as clear of an explanation as people made it seem.

Zargerecht sighed. “There are two main reasons. The first is that he is one of the very few people of higher status than yourself. He can make demands you must fulfill, regardless of your desires or abilities, then hand down punishment or praise according to his whimsy.”

“I don't think he would do that.”

“There has yet to be sufficient incentive for us to know for sure,” Zargerecht replied. “The second is that all eyes are upon him. By standing at his side, those eyes are also upon you. Those who wish him harm could attack you if he is unavailable. People will attempt to gain information about him from you. Other powerful people around him might see you as a convenient tool to control him. None of this is within our power to manage.”

Melchior stared at this new collection of terrors. It was no longer a wonder why such a nice boy had no friends. Letizia had Ferdinand and Rozemyne to protect her. Melchior felt very safe under his family's and retainers’ care but they couldn't compare in political acumen to Alexandria the First. What hope did other nobles have? Other nobles like his retainers.

“I didn't understand before. I’m sorry I didn't listen, Zargerecht. I won't put you all in danger any longer,” he promised. Zargerecht smiled and nodded. It would be much better for Melchior to develop friendships with almost anyone else, preferably those of his own status.

Pepin was less convinced by his statement. He didn't doubt Melchior’s promises but he felt like this one was from a place of fear rather than the normal instinct to help others and make people happy. “I think Isolde would encourage us to be bold and accept some risk,” Pepin argued. Zargerecht gave him a sharp look.

Melchior also seemed annoyed. “I struggle to understand Isolde. Why did she bully Hildebrand and Zargerecht? Why would she threaten people to talk to us?” he questioned.

“I don't recall an instance of being bullied by Isolde,” Zargerecht said. “She is stubborn and abrasive but she has made no attempt to injure my person or reputation.”

“But she looked so happy when I was cross with you.” Melchior frowned. “You do not need to hide anything from me. You are my friend, Zargerecht. I will protect you.”

Zargerecht laughed lightly. “That was not her fault. Like I said at the time, I allowed my emotions to get the better of me.”

“Isolde always looks happy when you exhibit strength and gravitas. She was just delighted to witness you chiding an adult,” Pepin explained with a sigh. He’d listen to plenty of her excited retellings of similar incidents to know.

Melchior still regarded them with suspicion. Zargerecht might not want to admit to being mistreated by a child and Pepin had been complicit. “Pepin, you encouraged me not to intervene,” he challenged. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Pepin frowned. People didn't generally like being told about their worst habits. Melchior did everything he could to avoid conflict and often missed things as a result. The conversation had been about Charlotte’s engagement and needed to be taken to its conclusion. “I do not think you will like to hear it,” he replied.

When Melchior asked he hadn't expected there to be anything. He still couldn't believe Zargerecht could be cruel to his apprentices. Melchior gave him a hard look. “Do not be afraid, Pepin,” he encouraged.

Both Zargerecht and Pepin looked confused. “It is not about Zargerecht. Lord Melchior, you do not know about all the conflicts in your retinue because you opt to avoid fights and separate people the moment you sense disagreement,” Pepin explained.

“So you were not so angry at Zargerecht that you wished to see him aggrieved?” Melchior asked.

“No, not at all,” Pepin cried. “Did you really think that?”

“I could not believe it either,” he replied.

“Lord Melchior, Isolde is a skilled scholar, but she is still young and you have not worked together for very long. This is true of all your retainers, you should take some time to speak with her about your ambitions and how you wish to accomplish them.” Zargerecht advised. “I do not generally agree with her but she works to facilitate your goals and follows your orders. If you do not give her direction, she will rely on her own understanding of the world which is different and harsher than your own.”

“I will try. I don't know what all my goals are yet. How can I give her direction if I don't know how to be a scholar?” Melchior asked. He seemed mostly recovered so Zargerecht stood up and gestured for Pepin to stand up too. Pepin noticed that this made Melchior relax even more as though something serious was ending.

“It is similar to how you give direction for events to your attendants. You tell us who is coming and what you hope for them to experience. You need only tell your scholars what you need and how you want them to represent you to others,” Zargerecht said. He returned to his normal attendant smile and posture.

“I think I can do that,” Melchior said happily. He looked determined once again. “I will think about what to say.”

“Very good, my lord. It will be a good thing to consider while you write your report about this morning. A great deal happened after all. Do not be sparse on the details. You must also plan a meeting with Charlotte and coordinate your information gathering for the Interduchy Tournament.”

Melchior’s enthusiasm waned again. “I must also do the paintings and drawing for Letizia and Hildebrand since I promised,” he ventured.

Zargerecht’s smile took on an intimidating edge. “I do not doubt you will complete those tasks once the others are finished,” he replied. Melchior trudged over to his desk and flopped into his chair. “Poise, my lord.” He stood back up and sat down carefully.

By the time dinner arrived. Melchior was feeling awful in an entirely different way. He was familiar with compression sickness by now as well as the fatigue that accompanied it. This didn't make it easier to handle or hide. It was good that his attendants already knew why he was out of sorts. He wasn't sure he could stomach more patient questioning with concerned looks.

Gerianne was back in her usual seat while Isolde sent word she would be eating in her room. As angry as he’d been with her earlier, Melchior now felt upset with himself. His efforts to gain more mana seemed to be making him more emotional while his inability to control his emotions was making him make bad decisions. Yelling at his well meaning retainers was entirely his own fault.

“You seem unwell,” Gerianne noted.

“It is compression sickness,” Melchior replied.

“You are pushing yourself too hard,” she said. “Don't you want to be tall?”

He couldn't help but laugh. “Yes. I will relax in spring. I think.”

They continued eating and he glanced at Isolde's empty chair a few times. “Is she feeling sick too?” he asked.

“She said you do not want to see her. So she is staying away,” Gerianne whispered.

Melchior couldn't rest his forehead on this particular table. He would have to explain to Wilfred and would get food in his hair. “I am a bad lord,” he muttered.

“That is not the case. And if you made a mistake you need only improve.”

“I will try to improve. How is the Winter Playroom? I think I forgot to ask,” Melchior said.

“It was not as fun. I am not allowed to walk around the castle. Adaire is doing well. Kazmiar has been taking Bertrum home too.” She told him about the lack of changes. She’d been teaching anyone who wanted to get a head start how to pray and the healing spells. “They are bad at healing but some kids can produce the green light now.”

“That's amazing. Leibshitze said you helped him pass the course too. You must be a good teacher,” Melchior complimented.

“I am not as good as Pepin though I am better than Kolteruze,” she replied.

“Is Kolteruze a bad teacher?”

“Not if you are very smart or already understand. Then you can learn many new things.” Melchior glanced down the table. Kolteruze generally sat at the end of their group next to Theodore. He was fairly sure the two weren't close but they also weren't close to any of the other retainers. Melchior and Kolteruze also didn't speak much when he was on nightwatch. Melchior only knew that he stayed awake the latest of anyone.

“Maybe he can teach me how to care for plants,” Melchior mused. He realized he hadn't properly thanked Kolteruze for taking care of the liriot. He would have to devise something.

The after dinner meeting could not begin as scheduled. Melchior held the notes containing his speech and waited anxiously. Isolde was never late for their meetings. They were her favorite time of the day. “Can you go check on her, Zipporah?”

“I think she is waiting to be summoned,” Zargerecht said. “I told her not to return then you told her to leave,” he reminded.

Everyone who had neither witnessed the event nor the aftermath failed to hide their surprise. That Zargerecht had grown angry enough to dismiss her wasn't nearly as shocking as that Melchior had agreed. The attendant produced an ordonnanz.

Melchior took a moment to prepare his words. He couldn't just say anything. If she wasn’t alone, implying she was late would embarrass her. “This is Melchior. We have switched to the scholars meeting room.” He hoped that was subtle enough. Zargerecht sent it without comment so he assumed it was fine.

They waited a few minutes before the bird returned “I will be there right away,” it said in a carefully controlled voice. Isolde appeared quickly with a stack of notes. She stood at the end of the table rather than sitting in her normal place. “You summoned me,” she said.

“We could not begin without you. I have something important to tell everyone.” Melchior said. He tried to present a reassuring smile. She was obviously nervous.

Perhaps he should have been more precise. Rather than taking her chair she looked down and clutched her notes tighter. “I… I will accept your decision without complaint,” she said.

Melchior looked at Zargerecht. He felt lost for words and confused by her behavior.

“Lord Melchior has no intention of distancing you, Isolde. Please sit down so we can begin,” Zargerecht said gently.

“Thank you, my lord. I will not make this mistake again,” she promised and quickly took her seat.

“I am unhappy with how you handled things but it is my fault for not being a better leader,” Melchior began in as authoritative a voice as he could muster given his disordered state. Why did she think he would fire her? “I will attempt to communicate my goals more clearly. It is my ambition to support Father and Charlotte in protecting the people of Ehrenfest. I therefore hope to become an accomplished Archduke Candidate and maintain a good reputation. Please do not threaten people on my behalf. Also, I would like to make lots of friends so please be kind as my representatives.” He shuffled through his notes. “I did not previously understand the dangers associated with socializing with royalty. We will attempt to be more distant with Prince Hildebrand in the future. This might be difficult considering the promises I’ve made to assist him but I will try. I do not want to put you all in danger.”

The room was very quiet. Isolde moved through many emotions beginning with relief and ending with abject horror. Pepin continued to feel dubious about this development. He neither believed Melchior could manage to snub someone nor that Prince Hildebrand would prove a terrible threat. Sigsnyr had a similar expression to that from the night of Melchior's return. He looked from Isolde to Zargerecht who seemed entirely unsurprised.

“We are going to distance Prince Hildebrand?” he clarified. Melchior nodded slowly. He was obviously unhappy with the choice. “You seem to enjoy his company. And one of your stated goals is making friends and building a good reputation. Keeping his acquaintance would assist in those goals.” Isolde nodded along.

“There are over one thousand students at the Royal Academy. Lord Melchior can befriend them instead,” Zargerecht explained.

“I cannot protect any of you should he choose to cause harm,” Melchior said. “It is safer to associate as little as possible.”

“It is our job to protect you,” Theodore interjected.

“I will protect you all in turn. I cannot wield a blade so I can only make decisions that will minimize risk,” Melchior replied. “You cannot protect me from my own bad choices so I will make better ones.”

“This isn't what I meant,” Sigsnyr muttered. Had he scared Melchior so much that he was becoming risk avoidant?

“Is this really what you want?” Kolteruze asked. Melchior nodded unconvincingly again. “Then we will assist you. Just remember that we can protect you from some poor decisions and we can help you mitigate risk if you alert us beforehand.”

“Thank you. I shall be in your care.” Melchior said. He glanced at Isolde then looked away immediately. She looked more devastated than she had about potentially being fired. “Now, we must plan for the Interduchy Tournament. Scholars, please collect information about the duchies closest to us in the rankings and geographically. Father has asked us to find answers to three questions: What are Vogtwerk’s internal politics like and what trends are Hauchletze and Gilessenmeyer, respectively, trying to promote?

“Kolteruze, you have shown a talent for gathering information as well. Please find out more about Berschmann and coordinate the collection of the reference materials. Do not allow Charlotte to find out about the hairpin.”

Melchior placed down his notes with a huff. It had been such a long day. “Thank you all for your continued good work. Are there any questions that are not about my goals and ambitions?” Several people retracted their inquisitive gestures. “Then let us go to bed,” he said and gathered his papers.

“Is this my fault?” Isolde whispered. She shivered in her chair.

“No, Isolde. It is my fault,” Melchior said and continued out of the room.

Chapter Text

The Last Two Weeks before the Last Three Days

Melchior spent the better part of the next week painting and collecting information. He tried to take more walks around the campus and ask after the answers for the Aub. It felt difficult to work on questions about Vogtwerk but the students of Hauchletze and Gilessenmeyer were happy to discuss their duchies trends.

Hauchletze was a duchy dedicated to artistic pursuits. Many aesthetic trends originated from there including a lot of the new hair styles. With their country gate open once again, they wanted to find a trade good as lucrative as sugar so were testing all kinds of things. Unfortunately, Chifundo merchants seemed less willing to trade. The chance that the gate might suddenly close, never to reopen, made them hesitant to invest too heavily. They had also developed more technology that didn't require faestones.

Gilessenmeyer was delighted by the female Zent. They were doing their best to support her fashions. As the new importers of sugar, they were working to produce new desserts and get people into adding sugar to tea. Several students insisted it greatly improved the experience and was a must on any tea party tray. A new kind of dish, invented in Gilessenmeyer for holding this sugar, was finding its way onto many a tea table.

He traded this information with Charlotte for her notes on Frenbeltag and Alexandria. She also gave him more notes on the duchies he was supposed to meet at the Hauchletze tea party and accompanied him on a couple more walks. He tried to remember how she worked various inquiries seamlessly into conversation but couldn't replicate her easy charm.

She listened to his report on the meeting with Torsten including many fun facts.

“You used your secret meeting to learn more about their culture,” she asked with an amused smile.

“Yes. It sounds like a fascinating place. Will we travel there when you exchange engagement faestones?” He imagined how delightful it would be to pass through Dunkelfelger and try the buchlettes.

“Lady Detlinde only came to Ehrenfest because her mother wished to visit. It is usually the boy who makes the journey. It is doubly so since Torsten is moving to our duchy,” she explained. Melchior felt crestfallen. All his dreams of soaring through exotic skies would have to be deferred. “Do not lose heart. He will visit for the Starbinding Ceremony. You will get to show off your skills and there will be gifts,” she encouraged.

“You're right. I will be sure the ceremony is perfect,” he declared.

“Was there anything else?” she asked. “He isn't planning any surprises is he?” Melchior shook his head and tried not to look like he was hiding anything. Charlotte naturally noticed his sudden shiftiness. “You cannot keep it secret forever,” she teased.

He blushed. “I will not say it.”

“So you are colluding with an Archduke Candidate from another duchy,” she said with a sudden serious tone. Her eyes still carried enough mirth to give her away.

“I’m not falling for your tricks,” he replied. “I will tell the Aub. It is not collusion.”

“So be it. But you will have to work hard. Shall we see who has the best scholars?” she challenged.

“Verbergan shall be our banner. You will be amazed by our subterfuge,” Melchior promised. They maintained dueling smiles for several moments before breaking into laughter.

“I look forward to our game,” she said. “Let it be a fair and honest match.”

That night, for the first time, they used a sound-blocker for their meeting. “Kolteruze, you must use utmost secrecy. Charlotte’s scholars cannot find out,” Melchior ordered.

Kolteruze smiled brightly. “Of course, my lord. You can leave this to me.”

“Why are you leaving this to Kolteruze,” Isolde complained. She was mostly recovered but, much like Melchior, had lingering anxieties. “He’s admitted to being unsubtle before.”

“That is when gathering information. When planning events, attendants are very the best at keeping things quiet,” he countered. “Be more worried about the knights giving things away.”

“How dare you imply,” Zipporah huffed.

“I am not implying anything. Knights are notoriously bad at sneaking,” Kolteruze quipped.

“It is the clangy armor,” Pepin added.

Melchior’s retainers continued to argue about the various professions' talents for trickery. “O God of Secrets, Verbergan, of the God of Darkness's exalted twelve, we ask that you grant us your divine protection,” he intoned.

“This is frivolous,” Zargerecht sighed.

“The gods offer their support to our efforts,” Melchior declared as the black sparkles rained down. He received a return blessing from Gerianne. “Thank you. It is strange that one cannot bless one’s self.”

She shrugged. “You have me to cover you. Do not fear.”

Thus blessed and filled with competitive spirit, Melchior's retinue began planning their secret mission.

Their mission to finish the skins was no secret. Melchior traded a promise of a cool hide to Wilfred in exchange for his own knights. They were happy to have a day off even if it was going to be spent doing hard labor.

“I cannot hear another one of his terrible speeches,” Sigsnyr complained while stretching a skin under Veremund’s watchful eyes. There were now two strange wooden stands. The knights worked in rotation while Veremund continued without pause.

“It's amazing that you can do that for hours and hours,” Melchior said. “I am tired just stirring.”

“I’ve been helping my family for years. Plus, it's all about good form,” Veremund replied.

“I think it is also magic,” Theodore grumbled from where he lay exhausted on his fur currently spread over the floor.

Isolde stirred her brew carefully. She’d spent so much time cutting and measuring and slowly melting ingredients that the possibility of burning it at the final step was untenable. “It is a shame no one is here to see it. I know many girls who would be happy to have a husband adapted to hard work,” she muttered.

“Is that your criteria?” Zipporah teased.

Isolde blushed. “I was not speaking of myself.”

“But you are happy to have witnessed it, right?” Sigsnyr added.

She refused to answer. “Please stop,” begged Veremund. He was also bright red. “I will never hear the end of it if people think I’ve tried to show off to a third year.”

“Oh, but Isolde is known for her good taste. Her endorsement would work wonders for your prospects,” Zipporah continued.

“He does not need my support,” Isolde said with a toss of her ponytail.

Sigsnyr laughed at Veremund’s blank expression and deep embarrassment. “Who knew our very own scholar was so beloved of the flowers.”

“Sigsnyr,” Theodore chided with a glance toward the younger students. They sat on their stools scraping with gusto and laughing.

“Is that a good thing?” Melchior asked.

“Generally,” Zipporah replied. “But it is not polite to say it that way.”

“Then I am happy for you, Veremund,” he said which drew more laughs.

Veremund groaned. “Please can we talk about absolutely anything else. The schnnefeld perhaps.”

“Oh yes. I think we should wait until next year. We won't have time to scout the more distant herds and the closer ones get hunted much more heavily. If that is the prize you want, we should make it a good one,” Sigsnyr explained.

Zipporah switched with him. He sat heavily on a stool. Veremund continued and hummed a bit as he considered this. “I don't want you to strain yourselves. And, as much as I want to work with one, I’m not sure I can use the entire thing by myself. It's also hard to sell something people haven't invented uses for. If we wait, I'll have time to research it.”

“What are you humming?” Flautzeal asked suddenly.

“It is a commoner work song. I heard it while visiting a tannery with my father,” Veremund replied.

Flautzeal’s eyes shimmered. “Can you teach me?”

“I only know how to sing it but sure.”

“Back to the topic at hand. I doubt we will make the same mistake of hunting excessively next year. We should therefore have more time to collect the schnnefeld,” Zipporah said.

It was agreed. Veremund chose a very soft leather as his reward. It was great for shoes and gloves, both lightweight and resistant to tearing. “That also means it dulls scissors as fast as you can cut it and burns mana if you try to use your schtappe,” he noted.

With the combined efforts of everyone except for Kolteruze, the project was finished with more than a week to spare. Veremund invited Isolde to assist with writing the report so she could add her name as a primary scholar. She agreed to help but noted that she was already doing research on the regional differences in uses of euphemisms and idioms. “There are at least 27 distinct language regions,” she began to explain. Only Melchior was willing to listen to her describe the subtle differences in turns of phrase between the surface and subterranean dwellers of Klassenberg

Kolteruze also didn't want to hear about their work and also declined a prize of his own. “Ehrenfest paper now exists. I don't even use parchment anymore,” he insisted.

“What if you need to erase mana-ink?” Sigsnyr asked.

“I use wooden boards if I absolutely have to use mana remover. I just prefer to avoid the domain of Schlageziel if I can,” Kolteruze replied.

“Don't you eat meat?” Nikolaus asked.

“Only if it isn't shaped like the animal,” Zipporah answered with a reproving look at her fellow knight.

“I didn't know. I’m sorry we pressured you into helping,” Pepin said.

Kolteruze waved off his fretting. “I am not so fragile that I cannot handle dead things. My family are farmers.” Melchior felt awful. If Kolteruze didn't like using things derived from hunting he must be very uncomfortable in his uniform. “Sheep are not killed to harvest wool,” he said with a sigh. “There is no need to treat me like spun glass.” People were always scandalized to hear about his distaste for animal products. For weeks they would try to avoid even handing him sharp objects.

“I had no idea. Is it spun like flax too?” Melchior asked.

Kolteruze had to repeat the sentence to himself several times. Melchior had knowledge of linen but not of wool and even knew what spinning was. “You don't know where wool comes from?” he asked eventually. Melchior shook his head along with Pepin, Nickolaus, Gerianne, and Theodore. “Do you know what raw vegetables look like?” he asked. It wasn't uncommon for city dwelling nobles to have never seen a rigar. Only Melchior didn't shake his head. Kolteruze now wondered why he had seen raw vegetables.

“I went on a tour of the farms at Hasse Monastery and I watched the shrine maidens make soup,” he explained.

“Wait. When did you watch them make the soup?!” Nikolaus cried.

“I am the High Bishop. I have to inspect everything for safety and deliciousness,” Melchior said in a serious tone.

“They let you taste it?” Gerianne cried. Melchior only giggled. “That isn't fair. Can you use your authority to get me a bowl?”

“You want him to use his power as the High Bishop of Ehrenfest to secure a bowl of soup made by orphans?” Kolteruze asked. She nodded.

“It's different all the time. I’m sure a bit of Autumn Harvest produce in the right hands will secure a discreet and regular portion,” Melchior whispered. She nodded and began planning how to bribe Trude or one of the girls.

“There is a monastery in Hasse?” Kolteruze asked. “And they have farms?”

Melchior explained the exciting history of the Hasse orphanage from the time he took over as its director. “They grow rare and delicious varieties and started keeping bees,” he expounded. Kolteruze listened without interrupting as he described the lettuces he hadn't been allowed to pull and the ugly coppice trees and their paper varieties. “That's where the waterproof paper is from, and the gold fleck paper,” he showed off his experimental notebook.

Kolteruze touched the hard bits trapped in the pages and flipped past a couple of drawings before it was torn from his grasp by Melchior mumbling questions about why everyone did that. “I want to see these fields one day. Do you visit for every Spring Prayer? Can nobles visit this shrine?”

“I have temple attendants for religious trips. I don't think most nobles know about it. There would be nowhere for you to stay,” Melchior said. He was surprised to see Kolteruze look sad for the first time ever. “I will see what I can manage. If you are happy with less than noble accommodations and to wait until you come of age…” he added quickly.

Kolteruze perked up immediately. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be alright for a few nights. Tell me about the changes they make when you next visit. I want to know what animals they choose.”

*

Kolteruze proved to be stealthy as well as knowledgeable. He appeared at an evening meeting with the large leather bag full of Bershmann’s reference materials and return gifts from Hauchletze.

“I can assure you that neither of your siblings are yet aware,” he said to a chorus of congratulations.

“Most excellent work, Kolteruze. I knew I could rely on you,” Melchior said.

Isolde and Flautzeal added their praise and renewed their promise to tightly control any information. The objects had already been checked by Sigsnyr and Zargerecht as well.

“How long have we had them?” Melchior asked. He also didn't know exactly when Kolteruze had made his trip.

“Yesterday before lunch.”

“So long. Why didn't you tell me?” he cried.

“Please excuse my frankness, Lord Melchior. You are the most likely of anyone to give away the secret,” Isolde said.

Melchior was filled with indignation. “What do you mean? I can keep secrets,” he insisted. No one seemed to agree.

“You have not had much practice, my lord,” Zargerecht noted. “You do not have many secrets to keep.”

“I have secrets. I’ve done clandestine activities,” he huffed. Then he considered how all of his stealthy exploits had gone so far. “Although, I was caught every time,” he muttered.

“Don’t you mean both times?” Sigsnyr asked with a frown. Melchior glanced sheepishly around. “We can talk about it later. You will want to look at all the things!” he encouraged and began pulling out and putting them on the table.

From Berschmann, there was a small collection of drawings of various flowers native to Bershmann's jungles. Most were of a specific flower called the Lionshead Peony. It resembled a frilly peony with the center of a magnolia flower. The central cone was dark yellow while the petals faded to white around the outside. Its tree also had large smooth-edged leaves with dark green tops and fuzzy purple undersides. In addition to the drawings was a rather small time stopping magic tool containing a single large blossom.

Everyone stared at it in awe. “The pictures do it no justice,” Flautzeal muttered.

Zargerecht gently removed it from the box and placed it before Melchior. He was too afraid to touch it. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful,” he muttered. The petals seemed almost to glow with their own light. The center also wasn't yellow. It was a lightly shimmering gold and little purple seeds nested within.

“They sent seeds,” Kolteruze said with impossible to conceal excitement. “Do you think they will sprout?”

“We can try,” Melchior promised. He allowed Kolteruze to transport it back to its vessel then added mana to the faestones.

“It requires a lot of mana to maintain this. You should finish your ordering quickly so we can allow time to pass normally,” Zargerecht counseled.

“Then it will die,” Melchior squeaked. Zargerecht sighed and nodded. “Do not worry, I will preserve it,” he promised.

“My lord, your mana is needed for other things,” he chided.

“I will also assist,” Gerianne promised. Flautzeal and Isolde also gave vows to protect the flower.

“Your tendency toward extravagance is beginning to worry me,” Zargerecht muttered.

The gifts from Hauchletze weren't as amazing but they were still fun. “What is this pattern,” Isolde wondered while touching a bolt of fabric. It was printed with seven colors in a bold geometric design.

“It’s so fun!” Melchior squeaked. “What shall we make out of it? A tunic or maybe it would be better as a dress. Lady Brunhilde likes bold designs.”

“Lady Brunhilde would never wear something so… busy,” Isolde replied.

“It would be fun as a surcoat or a cape,” Sigsnyr agreed.

“You cannot wear this. Not only is it so dissimilar from everything else available but you cannot even begin a trend if this is all that we have,” Zargerecht explained.

“It feels strangely dense but also soft,” Isolde observed. Everyone took a turn touching it.

“Doesn't it make you feel happy just looking at it,” Melchior said. He thought about how to convince his mother to include it in his wardrobe.

“Maybe use it as a lining,” Kolteruze suggested.

Melchior frowned. “Then no one could ever see it.”

“If you cut small enough pieces, they will seem to have been dyed a single color,” Zipporah said.

“That would defeat the purpose,” Melchior cried. “Does no one else like it?”

“I think it's wonderful,” Flautzeal replied. “But I have to agree. Ehrenfest is not ready.”

“We will never be ready for something so garish,” Isolde said.

“Perhaps a house coat. You can enjoy the pattern within your chambers,” Zargerecht gave a final attempt to temper his lord's burning ambition to debut the incredible fabric no one else could obtain. He could see the Aub’s annoyed expression already. Trying to negotiate with Hauchletze was also always a nightmare so even if they wanted more of this fabric they couldn't get it easily.

“That sounds perfect,” Isolde agreed. She couldn't bear the thought that the trends could turn to such bold colors being worn all at once. Her pale complexion and hair would be swallowed by the exciting patterns.

It was decided. Melchior would employ the Gilbertta Company to create a piece that could expand with his growth. Any leftovers would go to Flautzeal who became the sole voice trying to convince his lord to use the fabric for something more visible.

Hauchletze also sent some ingredients. “Apparently, rumors about their catastrophic loss of ingredients were slightly exaggerated,” Kolteruze explained. These were high quality bits generally used to brew faestone armor crystals.

“They sent so much. And so many different things,” Melchior observed. The last things were two bottles of colorful ink, red and green, that were usable only on plant paper or fabric. “This is a lot of ink too.”

“I think they assumed the gift was from all three Ehrenfest Archduke Candidates so they sent something for each of you,” Kolteruze replied.

Melchior set down his spoils and looked sadly at the fabric. That was normally a gift for girls. It was obvious now that it should go to Charlotte. “I guess I will have to share,” he sighed. Maybe he could talk her into the ink instead.

“As you were the only gift giver, you aren't obligated to share,” Zargerecht said. “I dare say, your siblings would be confused by the sudden gifts.”

His heart tore between wanting to share with his brother and sister and wanting to keep the fabric for himself. “I feel bad keeping everything,” he admitted.

“The scholars who donated didn't ask for anything in return but they would enjoy the colorful inks. It would also be easy to separate these bottles into smaller vials,” Kolteruze suggested.

Melchior decided to split the green ink between the generous scholars and the red with his siblings. “Would you like red or green, Kolteruze?”

Kolteruze was taken aback. He glanced at Zargerecht who only smiled as normal. “I do not need a gift, my lord. I did only my duty.”

“You did much to gather additional items to improve our gift. The students of Hauchletze were greatly enriched through your efforts. It therefore seems right to me that you should share in the bounty returned to us,” Melchior said. He watched Kolteruze’s face like he did Philine, trying to figure out when he’d been convincing enough. Kolteruze just regarded him with a confused smile. “When I expressed a desire to redouble our generosity it was you who suggested that we work with Alexandria thus creating a path to my wishes that would not put Ehrenfest in too conspicuous a position. Coordinating so many strange objects, the collection and preparation of the herbs for the sachets, and their careful delivery was handled with exceptional grace and speed. I do not doubt that… that,” Melchior struggled to continue. He didn't doubt that anyone would agree Kolteruze was a great attendant who did more work than normal this time but he couldn't think of a fancy way to say it. He also wasn't sure what to say after that. Kolteruze still had the same expression. He didn't seem convinced.

“My lord,” Zargerecht interrupted his quiet sputtering. “If you would like to pass down some ink you may do so.”

“I don't think Kolteruze needs more convincing,” Pepin added.

At the sound of someone else saying his name, Kolteruze’s countenance finally shifted. He turned a particularly bright shade of red and looked away. “Thank you,” he whispered. He looked like he wanted to run but they were in the middle of a meeting.

“Please allow me to handle portioning and handing out the ink, Lord Melchior,” Pepin said as the silence and eyes continued to press Kolteruze. He knew his fellow attendant would never recover unless they talked about something else.

“Yes, thank you Pepin,” Melchior said. “Please ask again later,” he added in a whisper.

The materials were only useful as a set and Melchior would need his own armor soon enough, so Sigsnyr agreed to show him how to brew it after the term. It was a complicated process but the result would be considerably higher quality and easier to use if Melchior did it himself.

Melchior’s gift to Letizia came together rather quickly but only part way. He used a similar template to the original with picture ovals set into a decorative background. With no exact reference he had to design this background himself. He used the sketches he’d made of the embroidery on the shumil's outfits combined with architectural details from the library’s pillars and doorways. There was no silver pigment so gold was used to simulate the metal on the Archduke’s Archive walls then painted with red lines reminiscent of the magic circles.

The result was red and gold and black and white, a complex arrangement of different motifs, and featured two formal portraits of shumils. Melchior showed it to all of his retainers at some point just to make sure it wasn't too much. Each detail felt fun and correct when added and worked on in isolation but together it looked overwhelmingly grand for such a small object.

They each had different things to say which largely amounted to: “It is a lot but it still looks nice.” As there was little time to start again, Melchior accepted that Letizia might find it hard to loop onto her belt. If she only kept it on her desk that was fine. In anticipation of it resting on a shelf and never being used he added words of encouragement in the ancient language along the side walls. She could read them and be reminded that she was smart enough and could face the challenges ahead.

Rozemyne’s blank diptych came with a cord to connect the panels, a metal stylus, and filled with wax. Melchior sacrificed one of his hair ties as they were the only sufficiently fancy string available but didn't know where to find the wax they needed. It seemed to be more than simple beeswax having a unique smell and being mixed with pigment. Eventually, he had to accept that Alexandria had both wax and styluses and could finish things themselves.

Melchior announced its completion at an evening meeting. Pepin carried it down so the girls could look at it while they discussed the final reports for the Interduchy Tournament. There were only a few days left to prepare. The knights were released with strict orders to rest and recuperate. Melchior and Gerianne did their best to heal the older knights and give encouragement.

“I think she will like it,” Pepin concluded after watching Isolde and Gerianne turn it over and over with awed expressions. “You might have to make more.”

“I should have time once we return to Ehrenfest. With time for proper planning we can figure out what kind of wax this is,” Melchior replied while poking his own diptych.

“Are you going to show your painting as well?” Kolteruze asked.

Melchior and Flautzeal froze. “You did another one?” Isolde asked, her curiosity plainly displayed on her face.

“This is the only one,” Melchior replied with a pointed look at Kolteruze.

Whether the apprentice wasn't looking or didn't care, he continued. “No it is a larger painting, on a normal board, of his excursion,” he explained.

“We aren't supposed to talk about it,” Flautzeal said.

“Were you sworn to secrecy?” Kolteruze asked. “He just said I couldn't look until it was finished.”

“You did a painting of your gathering?” Sigsnyr asked. He flashed a predatory smile.

“Kolteruze!” Melchior cried. “How could you?”

Kolteruze placed a hand on his cheek, “My lord, I had no idea you intended to keep it hidden forever. Forgive me.” He shook his head in a perfect performance of contrition even though his tone proved it was a purposeful act. Zargerecht did nothing to chastise his junior. He wished to see this secret as much as anyone else.

“Indeed. It should not exist so I intend to store it in my hidden room until I’ve seen every corner of the wall. Please do not advertise its existence again,” he said in as authoritative a voice as possible. “Do not ask,” he added as a pleading look entered several people's eyes at once.

“But my lord. Kolteruze speaks so highly of it. Surely it should be shared,” Isolde pleaded. She'd barely understood his explanation of the events in question. If a picture existed, she wanted more context.

“It would no doubt serve as an excellent visual aid to punctuation your account of the events,” Sigsnyr added. Melchior squinted at him. He’d yet to make good on his promise to relate the entire story in exchange for assistance. Sigsnyr could easily pressure him into revealing the painting while they were alone. Why do so in a public setting?

Melchior sat up straight and folded his hands properly. “My answer is no. That is final,” he declared in his most solemn voice.

Zargerecht sighed. “If it is your wish that the world be deprived, then we will assist.”

“I look forward to your good work,” Melchior replied.

The schedule for nightwatch dictated that Pepin was the next in line yet Sigsnyr appeared instead. He didn't put out the lights after Zargerecht left nor did he go to the bench. Instead he paced calmy back and forth until Melchior parted his own curtains with a scowl.

“My lord, I thought we might discuss your approach for speaking with Dedryck and the Aub. We are both aware that the conversation surrounding your excursion is not over for them,” Sigsnyr said casually.

“I don't see why not. It is only very late and during your mandated period of rest,” Melchior replied. He gestured to the chair now permanently positioned near his bed for chats with Pepin.

“Shall I mince words, my lord?” Sigsnyr asked as he didn't sit down.

“Fine, very well. But you must promise not to speak of it to anyone else,” Melchior replied. He rolled out of bed and put on his slippers. Sigsnyr kindly assisted him with a housecoat.

“Oh but knights are notorious for our lack of subterfuge. I cannot make promises I know I cannot keep, my lord.”

“Then I will not show you.”

“Then you will have to face your head knight alone.”

“Is that a threat?” Melchior asked, his hands on his hips in an unconvincing posture of intimidation as he looked up at the much taller and much stronger older boy.

“Yes,” Sigsnyr replied with a confused look. “Was it not obvious?”

Melchior was agog. He looked around for help but there was no one. Suddenly, his insistence that Sigsnyr had as much of his trust as the Knight Commander had his father’s felt premature. “Do you know who I am?” he tried.

Now, Sigsnyr just began laughing. “Lord Melchior, you must present indignation if you want to use your status to intimidate. Do not ask as though you, yourself, are unsure.” He grabbed Melchior by the shoulders and steered him to his hidden room entrance.

At Sigsnyr insistent gesturing, Melchior touched the faestone and slid the door open. They were greeted with warm light. Once two chairs were placed inside and the two boys sat facing the painting under its cover, Melchior began his story.

“I was told I couldn't visit the orphanage anymore.”

Sigsnyr looked shocked. “But why? You gain so much joy from going there.”

“Lothar said it was to improve my etiquette. I struggle to understand status because I interact improperly with commoners too often.”

“That doesn't sound like something Lothar would say. Did he receive orders from someone else?” Sigsnyr asked.

Melchior could only shrug. “I don't know. He had a conversation with Haldis on the day of the Dedication Ritual and began enforcing more strictures but I was allowed to go to the recital and class as usual until after the Lord of Winter hunt.” Sigsnyr gestured for Melchior to go on while he considered this explanation. It didn’t sound like something Haldis would come up with either. Meaning it had either come from Melchior’s parents or Zargerecht.

Melchior continued his tale including his embarrassing weeping because Kirk was cold in the hallways. He recounted their trip to the atrium and described the indoor training room which Sigsnyr was excited to see. Sister Strieta’s archery training filled him with deep empathy for all the archers who would quit before ever learning to enjoy shooting a bow. He wasn’t sure how all these things were connected to Melchior’s adventure but he didn’t attempt to rush the story. Eventually, the tale came to the morning in question. Melchior went to bed much too early and feeling terrible then awoke very early as well. He sat with Kirk and talked about the attendant’s happy experiences flying into the frozen commoner woods in the predawn and Melchior decided he had to experience this.

“So you were filled with the passion for adventure and had to see things for yourself?” Sigsnyr asked.

Melchior sighed and shook his head. “No, I felt that I did not want to be an Archduke Candidate and couldn’t bear all the rules and constraints.”

“Really? So you were running away from your responsibilities?”

“I have no responsibilities that early in the morning.”

“I suppose I will not understand without giving it much thought. To think all my theories were so wrong,” Sigsnyr muttered.

“You were wrong about Pepin and Zargerecht too,” Melchior noted.

“One cannot be right about everything. Go on, we haven’t even come to the fun part yet.”

Melchior continued to describe his outfit with a short detour to relate the story of his first visit with Nikolaus where they obtained gathering rags. He had much praise for Kirk’s ugly little hat and the other knitted things. No amount of description was enough to fully convey their nature to Sigsnyr so he promised to ask Kirk for a better explanation. Finally, he unveiled the painting.

“We walked quite far into the forest then people climbed into the trees and melted the twigs with their body heat.” He described the catching system and the superstition about leaving one of every three fruits. “Then it was my turn to climb a tree,” Melchior declared.

“You climbed one of these?” Sigsnyr asked in amazement.

“No. I’m not any good at climbing trees. I used my highbeast instead. It's for the best I think. When I touched the branches with my bare hands or highbeast they melted immediately.” Sigsnyr did his best to imagine such an event. He gazed at the painting of happy children in a dark forest. From the composition and lighting, it was clearly supposed to be a cheerful depiction but knowing one was his lord filled him with anxiety. He could almost see glowing eyes in the treeline even while Melchior talked about this as one of the best things he’d ever done.

“We have already discussed why this was so dangerous but I must repeat, hearing about this is harrowing even so far after the fact. I have slept outside in dark forests and I still cannot bear the thought that you did this alone, without any guards,” Sigsnyr said.

“You go on adventures alone all the time,” Melchior countered.

Sigsnyr looked directly into his eyes. “I do not decide to fly out into the great unknown a quarter bell before leaving. I have also been trained to account for most of the danger. You cannot compare these things.” He leaned back and looked at the frolicking children again. “I am glad you had fun and returned safely. If you want to do this again, please take an escort.”

Melchior looked excited for a moment then looked down. “I will not do something like this again. I gave you my word,” he replied.

Sigsnyr breathed a sigh but couldn’t fully relax. Even though this promise would keep Melchior safer in the future, something about it seemed to weigh on the boy’s spirit. It lacked the ambitious nature his oaths tended to carry. “I must now keep up my end of the bargain. If the Archduke interrogated Kirk, he might very well know about all your escapades up to now. If he didn’t or Kirk refused to speak, as is his right as an attendant without his lord present, you should tell him yourself. This will do two things, it will exonerate Dedryck who’s watch you obviously avoid on purpose. That Fonsel is easier to escape is well known. He trusts you where Dedryck does not. Perhaps it is accurate to say that Fonsel is in your service while Dedryck is in service to the Aub. His punishment has also already been decided so he will only be charged to be more careful. If Lord Sylvester attempts to increase his penalty you need only tearfully remind him of his promise.”

Melchior nodded, he tried to get up to retrieve paper to take notes but Sigsnyr stopped him and collected it himself.

“Next. You will have to be honest with Dedryck about your reasons. He doubtlessly believes, in error, that you simply did not understand the dangers. Why did you bring guards on all other occasions but not this one? Perhaps you have an inflated idea about Nikolaus’s competency but you realize that you need to take protection along. On this night, you made the conscious choice not to because of emotional distress. That Dedryck failed to see your distress was deep enough to motivate you to lethal action is his fault.”

“How could he predict something like that?” Melchior asked. “That seems unfair.”

“It is what he will believe. There is no way to convince him you should be allowed to live freely without also making him feel like it is within his power to mitigate these kinds of risks. If it is within his power, he will feel accountable for having failed to do so. That’s just how he is.” Sigsnyr looked at the impossible window. His golden eyes took on a pained glint. “That is what being a guard knight means.”

Melchior contemplated this advice while Sigsnyr looked at the painting. He wasn't sure his father or Dedryck could be convinced so easily. He also didn't want to admit his desire to give up to his mother. She did her work with skill and dedication and an invincible smile. Unlike his father who routinely looked ready to cast aside his responsibilities even if he didn't, Lady Florencia discharged her duty with elegance and delight.

“What if that doesn't work?” Melchior asked. If it were so simple to convince people to do what you wanted, Melchior would be a blue priest by now.

“I can only tell you what I think. I can't be right all the time, after all,” Sigsnyr replied. “We will keep trying for as long as we must,” he promised.

Chapter Text

The Original Divine Instruments

The following breakfast, Gerianne appeared in her vestments. Her explanation was baffling to all.

“You intend to donate to the Divine Instruments this morning and want to get in line as quickly as possible so you can return to resume guard duty?” Sigsnyr repeated.

“Yes. I’m not a true guard knight so my presence is not needed but I cannot dally either way,” she replied.

“You are a true guard knight,” Melchior insisted.

“With all of us available, she would have time to do other things,” Sigsnyr noted. He glanced back and forth between the two first years. His eyes took on a glimmer. “I don't mind giving you the morning off but wouldn't it be better for all of us to go?”

“You just want to see the Divine Instruments,” Gerianne muttered.

“I am trying to obtain the shield,” Sigsnyr replied with mild indignation. “Have you been attending this… gathering all term?” She nodded. “Why didn't you tell anyone?”

“I did. No one believed me,” she replied.

“You didn't tell me,” Melchior noted. Sigsnyr said the same.

“You could not leave the dormitory, my lord. I did not wish to sadden you with news of a fun activity you were not free to participate in. As for Sigsnyr, he lacks piety.”

Sigsnyr starred in offended silence. “Who did you tell?” Melchior asked.

“Theodore.”

The three looked down the table. Theodore paused eating when he noticed the attention. “Why didn't you tell me Gerianne was going to donate to the Divine Instruments once a week?” Sigsnyr challenged.

“You can't believe that the Prince of Yurgenschmidt personally hosts a donation drive for the original Divine Instruments? That a royal allows random students to touch the most sacred objects in the country?” Theodore replied.

“It is hard to imagine but having met the boy, I believe it,” Zipporah said. “Are you hoping to make up for lost time Sigsnyr? You must save your mana for the Interduchy Tournament.”

Sigsnyr looked so sad. “I will drink a potion,” he muttered. Melchior also looked pensive. He thought about all the extra mana apparently ruining his ability to think logically. He was able to manage it using the Divine Instruments while in Ehrenfest. Draining his mana before a hugely important event seemed like a good idea. However, if Prince Hildebrand would be there, perhaps he should avoid it all together.

“Will you be going as well, Lord Melchior?” Gerianne asked. “You should wear your robes too,” she added.

“He should not,” Zargerecht said from over their shoulders. “However, it seems like a good idea to see the process at least once.”

“We could do something similar in Ehrenfest,” Nikolaus mused. Gerianne fixed him with pleading eyes. “I’m not wearing my robes unless ordered.”

“But his highness will be there,” Melchior said.

Everyone was quiet for a moment. “You don't have to avoid him completely. It is a public event with lots of other students,” Isolde said.

Melchior looked at Zargerecht. Isolde was against distancing the prince. He wasn't sure he could accept her counsel uncritically.

“I agree,” Zargerecht said. “It will be good practice for all the times you must interact. Remember to maintain proper poise and distance.”

Melchior nodded. He could manage that easily enough. “Should we take the sketches?”

Both Isolde and Zargerecht shook their heads. “You do not want to make a public show of gifting him anything,” Isolde replied. “Not if you wish to disentangle your image from him.”

“You don't want me to do that,” Melchior replied.

She sighed. “What I want isn't important. You are my lord. I turn my skills to your aims.”

Melchior felt warm and sad all at once. He knew she was disappointed yet she was still helping him move down the path he’d chosen. “Thank you, Isolde.”

“It is only my duty,” she replied with a blush.

“Since everyone seems to agree, we will go to give donations. No one is required to give if they do not wish too but I encourage learning the Staff of Flutrane,” Melchior declared.

Flautzeal shook his head. “I cannot heal even one person,” he grumbled.

Melchior took his retinue over to the Auditorium. Only Gerianne wore her vestments in the end. While Zargerecht argued that she should have to wear her uniform or knight clothes, Melchior agreed that donating mana was a sacred act and warranted as much piety as one wished to give it. Gerianne said that was why all the clergy should dress up but Melchior agreed that wearing the Royal Academy uniform was more discreet and didn't detract from the experience. Only he and Nikolaus won this argument. Sigsnyr also marched along happily. They were going to see the most sacred magic tools in all the land.

They were not the first ones there but an Archduke Candidate was higher status than anyone else and could bring his retinue to the very front of the line. Prince Hildebrand had yet to take his seat and begin greeting and thanking the donating students so Melchior took a moment to explain the uses of the instruments and give his recommendations. “The line is very long so it is preferable to give the shortest greeting possible,” Gerianne added.

The archnoble from Klassenberg wasn't happy to lose her place at the front but she listened attentively to Melchior’s speech. In fact, his attempt to inform his retinue carried quite far in the acoustically resonant auditorium. All those currently assembled could hear if they tried.

“It takes such a lot of mana to learn a Divine Instrument,” Sigsnyr added. “I visited the temple for months and gave generously and still haven't learned the Shield of Schutzaria.”

“It took me over a year at nine stones per week,” Melchior added. There was a light gasp near the end of the line.

“It is good that you can make use of the Divine Instruments in Ehrenfest too,” Gerianne added rather louder than before. “A mednoble such as myself would need all six years were I unable to visit our temple. At least I could gain more Divine Protections and possibly improve my elements even if I never learn to summon one.”

“Why are you talking so loud,” Melchior whispered.

“I am informing the masses,” she replied.

Melchior struggled not to place his head in his hands. “We are not here to make speeches. We just want to donate mana and leave quietly,” he chided.

“You used your blessings voice. Did you not intend to orate before the entire auditorium?” Gerianne asked.

Melchior looked around. Many people were looking their way. He lowered his voice even more. “I was not so loud, was I?”

“You were eloquently as well,” Prince Hildebrand said from his chair. Melchior turned in surprise. As the line leader he was the closest yet he hadn't noticed Hildebrand take his seat.

He immediately stood up straight, crossed his arms, and gave a small bow. “We offer greetings on this morning held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth.”

Hildebrand regarded him with a bright smile. He dearly wished to begin a conversation but there wasn't time. More students were pouring in and getting into line by the moment. “I accept your greetings. Welcome, Lord Melchior. Thank you for your generous donation.”

Melchior bowed again then led his entire retinue down the table. He indicated where to touch on each instrument then gave his own donation to Geduldh's chalice. He wanted to donate to the spear but Gerianne warned him away by noting that everyone donated to the spear meaning the priests had to empty it midway through. Melchior was aware of how much of a pain that was so he chose something else.

He stood before the chalice and placed his hand on its large faestone then mumbled his standard chant. Praying wasn't necessary for donations but it made him feel nice to do it. “O Goddess of Earth Geduldh, O twelve goddess who once served at her side. Praise be to the gods. Glory be to the gods.” He had to alter it quickly since Geduldh didn't have subordinates anymore then repeated it several times. He had a lot of mana floating around and thought it would be best to decompress a bit as well. After 15 faestones, it felt like enough. That would be far too many to do normally but he’d missed many weeks of donations and needed to shed excess mana.

“I shouldn't be surprised every time,” Sigsnyr muttered. He wasn't the only person amazed. Anyone who’d donated before knew just how much mana each small faestones took. Prince Hildebrand paused mid sentence when his interlocutor squealed in shock.

From his place in line, Leibshitze also looked on in amazement. He wanted to run over but his recent etiquette training told him to remain in line and file his excitement away for later.

Melchior was the last of his party to finish. Each of his retainers gave a little bit, some as a test and others in earnestness. Nikolaus continued his quest for Flutrane's Staff while Gerianne gave to the sword once again. Faster than some single participants, their group turned for a final bow to the prince and began to walk away. Prince Hildebrand couldn't help but gaze after along with everyone else.

There were several new people here just for the final session yet the line moved at a rapid pace. Hildebrand didn't have to give any explanations and no one tried to make idle small talk. Everything took on a solemn air. Even Leibshitze stepped forward confidently, gave a proper small bow and greeting, then made his donation and swiftly left after another bow.

He hurried as fast as he could without running. Thankfully, Melchior was easy to catch. He was talking with an older boy from Totleben about the upcoming tournament. Leibshitze had recently learned it would be rude to interrupt even though they were already well acquainted. It felt strange to just stand to the side despite several glances from various members of Melchior's retinue. Watching and being watched by a large collection of people he knew but saying nothing when he would normally strike up a conversation made him feel anxious. As Melchior finished and gave farewell, he worried they might simply walk away, but Pepin quietly indicated toward Leibshitze and Melchior turned to him with a smile.

“Good morning, Lord Leibshitze,” Melchior said.

“I offer greetings on this morning ordained by the harsh judgment of Ewigeliebe the God of Life,” he intoned with a polite dip of his head.

Melchior looked surprised. “I accept your greetings. Are we not beyond such formalities?”

Leibshitze beamed. He’d succeed in surprising his future lord with his new training. He couldn't help but brag. “I’ve been taking etiquette lessons from the older students. I wanted to show you what I learned.”

“You’ve improved dramatically,” Melchior replied. “I’m very impressed. Were you donating as well, this morning?”

“Yes. I’m trying to acquire the spear for the pre-ditter ritual,” Leibshitze replied as he blushed under Melchior’s praise.

Melchior wasn't exactly sure why Leibshitze was so delighted to give donations. He decided not to ask lest Leibshitze reveal a deep fanaticism. Instead he reached out and granted healing.

Leibshitze was speechless for a moment. The bruise on his arm ceased throbbing and the cut on his shin ached slightly as it closed and pushed the gauze away from itself. “How did you know?”

“You are always injured,” Melchior replied. “It is no trouble,” he added after Leibshitze began to thank him. “Gerianne tells me you often train in the knights’ building. Will you be headed there now?”

“After third bell. Would you like to join us?” Leibshitze asked. He imagined how delightful it would be to train with Melchior and his knights. He would even have a chance to show off his skills before making his pledge.

Melchior looked to Zargerecht. He didn't have specific plans but the dormitory was in such a whirlwind with planning, he felt he should be there. Zargerecht had no strong feelings on the subject but all the rest of his retainers shook their heads. Theodore especially seemed adamant that he not train with Dunkelfelger’s first years.

“I will have to take you up on your offer next year. We are presently in our final preparatory stages for the Interduchy Tournament,” Melchior said. He then considered that this would be his last chance to see Leibshitze this year. “Would you like a blessing?” he asked. There were a couple of blessings for people going off on journeys he couldn't fully read yet. He didn't know one for friends you were fairly certain to meet again after an extended absence.

“You already healed me, Lord Melchior. I couldn't ask for anything more,” Leibshitze replied.

“I am offering. You do not mind, do you?” Melchior replied. Leibshitze shook his head. He considered which of the few gods he knew would give the best general purpose blessing. A blessing from Mestinora wouldn't be bad at all. Zargerecht also expected a blessing from a single god so he didn't try to steer his charge into a more private location.

There, before the auditorium, Melchior began to chant. “O Goddess of Water, Flutrane, O twelve goddess who served at her side,” he began. He entreated Leidenschaft and Schutzaria then added words from the heart. “I offer my joy and fraternity and pray that you bless my friend during our parting and deliver him safely back to me next winter.” Students coming from the donation drive and passing incidentally stopped to watch along with those already loitering as tri-colored light flew into the air and poured over the first year in his blue cape.

Leibshitze held out his hands and watched the glitter land and disappear into his body. He’d seen many blessings but none so close up and so large just for himself. “I… I’m not sure 'thank you’ is enough,” he said. He took in the surprised or delighted faces of his future fellow retainers and knew he’d received something special. “I shall dedicate myself to being worthy of your blessing,” he promised.

Melchior frowned. “You need only live well in the divine protection of the gods. It is only a blessing, not an imperative,” he said. He also looked a touch woozy.

“Are you alright?” Leibshitze asked.

Melchior refrained from nodding. His world was spinning slightly and he felt much like he did after moving too much mana. “Yes, I think I will be ok. I just donated a fair bit of mana then gave a large blessing. The more gods or people you include, the more mana it takes,” he explained.

“Perhaps you should drink a potion,” Leibshitze suggested with a glance at Melchior’s beautifully made belt. He wondered about the empty cage. “You also needn't extend yourself like this on my account.” Melchior took one potion, looked at it, made a queasy expression, then switched to another one. “Is there something wrong with those ones?”

“They taste so terrible but are amazingly effective,” he explained. His complexion improved a bit after the potion. “I can hardly notice most other potions but it isn't worth it.”

Nikolaus let out the smallest gasp. Both Melchior and Leibshitze turned to him. “That was the highest grade we make,” he explained.

Leibshitze had to regard Melchior with fresh awe for the third time. If a third year archnoble was impressed, it seemed reasonable that he should be as well. “You seem to have a lot of mana, Lord Melchior. Perhaps there is a potion that is both effective and tasty.”

“It is less than my siblings,” Melchior replied with a sigh. “I hope to compress enough not to fall behind.”

The foyer was becoming more and more busy as new people entered only to be waylaid by other students gossiping about the amazing sight. Zargerecht took a half step forward. Melchior wasn't sure why he needed to leave and didn't want to say goodbye. He hemmed and hawwed for a bit before finally giving his farewell.

“Lord Leibshitze. I must go now. I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven the threads of our fates tightly together,” he took Leibshitze's hands.

Leibshitze glanced around at the knights but no one attempted to move him away. “May our threads be woven tightly together, Lord Melchior,” he replied with a squeeze. Melchior smiled at him for several seconds before letting go and walking away. Leibshitze gazed after Melchior as he disappeared around the corner, having stopped to talk to no one.

Melchior made it back to his dormitory in record time. He still felt a little dizzy and also sad. Zargerecht stopped to look at him. “Will you be alright? Do you need another potion?”

Melchior shook his head then regretted it immediately. “I just need to sit down,” he replied. He hadn't expected to spend so much mana blessing Leibshitze. Entreating 39 gods at once was perhaps too ambitious.

“That was an amazing blessing, my lord. Where did you learn it?” Gerianne asked once he was situated in a chair in the common room. Pepin offered to clear the big chair, but it was perpetually occupied by at least three students. Melchior settled for a normal chair also draped in fur by popular demand. There were enough furs to cover all the chairs in the common room but Melchior decreed that a few be left bare in consideration of Kolteruze and those like him.

“I made it up,” he replied.

“You can just make them up?” Sigsnyr cried. He drank a second potion. “O Goddess of Wisdom, Mestinora please bless me with the ability to remember my studies over the long break,” he said while staring blankly into the middle distance. Nothing happened.

“You cannot bless yourself,” Melchior said.

Sigsnyr looked around. His eyes landed on Zipporah who returned his gaze with curiosity. “O God of Fire, Leidenschaft, O twelve gods who serve at his side, I offer you my adoration and delight and pray that you grant Zipporah the strength to defeat our enemies.” A blue light flew up and rained down and Sigsnyr collapsed into a squat. “Wow,” he whimpered.

Kolteruze immediately brought over another chair while Melchior hopped up, nearly tipped over, and was pushed back down by Zargerecht. Zipporah and Theodore lifted Sigsnyr into the seat.

“What were you thinking?” Zipporah chided. “You may have a lot of mana but not as much as an Archduke Candidate.”

“I should have said. It takes more mana the more gods you pray to,” Melchior fretted. “Are you ok? Do you need a potion?” He offered one from his belt.

“I have some,” Sigsnyr replied. He took several deep breaths to steady his head.

“That would be your third today. You cannot wantonly quaff such strong brews,” Zipporah continued.

“Yes, I know. I didn't expect it to drain so much,” he muttered.

“Me neither,” said Melchior. They laughed miserably.

“Like master, like servant. The pair of you are dangerous,” Zargerecht sighed. “Stay here. I will prepare tea and a snack.”

Kolteruze and Pepin starred after him in amazement. They stood by the dizzy pair and traded shrugs.

Wilfred walked by on his way to something or other and was distracted by the scene. “What happened to you?” he asked and walked over.

Melchior gave him a strained smile. “It is nothing. I simply over did my donation then gave a rather large blessing.”

A chuckle shook Wilfred's whole body but he managed not to make a sound. “How nostalgic. What did you donate to?” Melchior explained the Divine Instruments gathering. “I hadn't heard of this.”

“There is little advertisement,” Gerianne replied.

He glanced at her in her blue robes and armor and frowned ever so slightly. “It is unfortunate that I won't have the opportunity since I missed the final gathering.”

“You are always welcome at the temple, dear brother,” Melchior said. “That is true of anyone who wishes to acquire the instruments.”

Wilfred's retainers had dubious looks. “I might take you up on your offer. I have wanted my own chalice for some time,” Wilfred mused as he walked away. “Take care,’ he added with a wave.

The boys were mostly recovered by that evening. They were able to walk down to dinner without the decor swimming.

Dinner was an exciting affair. The Interduchy Tournament was the following day so several students were allowed to make speeches. Bertilde stood with her glass of water. “This year we welcomed a new dormitory supervisor. Professor Ottilie has given knowledge and assistance as we have never had before. Let this be the year the attendants of Ehrenfest show our quality. Have we not labored for this very day? Have we not trained for every eventuality? Will we not rise to the occasion as the greatest attendants in Yurgenschmidt?” She was met with a cheer. “Raise now your glasses, O attendants of Ehrenfest, for tomorrow we prove our excellence!”

Melchior and Sigsnyr joined in the cheering while the scholars and knights shook their heads. Even some of the adult attendants politely added their voices. Bertilde drained her water then sat back down.

Charlotte’s scholar also stood and gave a speech about the scholars which Isolde muttered burning criticism for after cheering loudly. “You can give a speech next year,” Melchior promised.

Isolde shook her head. “No one wants to hear me speak. I’ve yet to accomplish anything.”

Then Wilfred stood up. A visible freeze fell over the knights. “Knights of Ehrenfest! We will defeat Dunkelfelger both in speed and treasure stealing ditter. We have trained hard and long and will achieve victory! Let's have a cheer!” He then gestured for a cheer and was met with forced enthusiasm. “I could barely hear you. Let’s have a cheer.” The second response was louder but no more enthusiastic. It seemed to be enough for Wilfred who sat down with a satisfied expression.

“I see what you mean,” Gerianne whispered to Sigsnyr.

“How is it so bad?” he replied.

The after dinner meeting was filled with the excitement as well. “You have all served me excellently this year. I thank you for your good work. This will be my first Interduchy Tournament. We have spent much time preparing and gathering information just for this. Please lend me your strength for these final days,” Melchior said. His retainers gave a small cheer.

“That is a good speech. You are at the point where you no longer have to write them out,” Flautzeal complimented.

“The phrases do not flow smoothly together but they have impact,” Isolde added.

“I’ll work on it,” Melchior promised. “What should we talk about? Haven't we said all there is to say by now?”

“Not at all. There is much to discuss,” Isolde began. She produced a long list of topics and many notes. There were facts about the duchies most likely to visit and about those who would not. She’d devised several optimized routes in case he was called upon to circulate. They were based on past promises to visit research booths, the best foods, and avoiding undesirable duchies. “It would be best to avoid all the future Archduchess. If their parents take a liking to you, it will be much more difficult to rebuff their advances.”

Flautzeal also had information concerning his quartet’s performances for the year. Rozemyne hadn't hired them but Letizia had, and fairly early in the season. As a result, they’d gotten a reasonable amount of work. Musicians were generally placed too far away to hear conversation but he could say who was at what event. It wasn't the most useful information at the moment but Isolde filed it away.

Finally, the knights talked about the plan for his guard. Only Nikolaus wasn't participating in ditter so Melchior was instructed to remain with the adult knights near his parents. “Even if you can't see. Stay close to the Knights Order. Gerianne, you cannot stop a situation once it occurs but you can anticipate danger and mitigate the potential for threats to emerge. Nikolaus, remember to raise a Rott first and attempt to fight second. Prioritize getting to safety over dispatching opponents,” Sigsnyr lectured.

“We will not be gone long but that does not mean you can be less vigilant,” Zipporah added.

The youngest knights listened carefully and vowed to protect their lord no matter what. “I will stand even before the Sword of Ewigeliebe,” Gerianne promised.

“Good, since that's all you can do,” Sigsnyr said with a pat on the head. She didn't look particularly offended and clenched her tiny fist.

“If we all feel sufficiently motivated, then it is time for bed,” Zargerecht said. Melchior restrained his desire to give a blessing before releasing his retainers to retire.

The Coming of the Archductal Family

Melchior rose early, made use of the implements, then sat with Nikolaus to watch the snow drifts flutter about in the wind. Rather than their normal, quiet contemplation, they talked about all the things they were excited to see. Nikolaus told Melchior about his previous tournaments and the ditter matches. He explained the award ceremony at the end and talked about how the Zent would give Rozemyne a medal each year.

Zargerecht entered to find them laughing hysterically about the duchies who struggled against poisonous fish during a land battle. “My lord. It is time to prepare,” he said with a sigh as he shooed Nikolaus back to his own room.

Pepin entered from the retainers room with a fresh uniform, underwear, socks, and a strange collection of hair implements. Melchior was washed, rinshamed, and put in his crisp white layers. Once the night's braid and tangles were brushed out, Pepin wound his hair over metal rods then used the hair drying magic tool. With his hair dry in minutes and the rods removed, it looked very similar to the cloth curling method.

“After weeks of trial and error. We devised a new method,” he said proudly. He made two braids with an ochre ribbon in one then pulled those back along with the rest of the locks into a mid level ponytail. The curls gave the hair a wild sort of look and made for a bouncy bundle which Melchior couldn't stop shaking in the mirror.

Pepin smiled with satisfaction while Zargerecht looked on dubiously. “At least it was quite quick,” he noted.

“It is not the same as Father's but it is more fun,” Melchior decided. Kolteruze entered in his cape with Pepin’s cape over his arm. Since Melchior was dressed and ready, he helped his fellow attendant adorn his shoulders and affix his brooch. Pepin played with the little fruits for a moment.

“Shall we go,” Melchior said happily. Pepin nodded along with Kolteruze.

“You will want to eat quickly if you hope to welcome the Archductal Couple,” Zargerecht said.

“I do!” Melchior cried and hurried to his door. He came to stop with a clack of his diptych. The spot next to the door which normally contained a knight was empty.

“Oh, they are outside,” Kolteruze said and opened the door. Sigsnyr, Theodore, and Nikolaus were standing at attention just outside the door.

“Shall we go?” Melchior asked brightly. Sigsnyr gestured for him to lead on. Flautzeal and the girls met him at the landing and they all proceeded to the dining room. His retainers lined up at their chairs and only sat once he began to lower himself down. “Why is everyone being so formal?”

“It is the knights,” Isolde whispered. “We are just supporting them.” Melchior looked down the row of his older knights and Gerianne. She seemed totally normal but the other kids were noticeably stiff and proper.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, my lord. We did the pre-ditter ritual last night. It makes one very antsy. I feel that if I do not move carefully, I shall break something,” Zipporah replied.

“It is like there are drums, just beyond my hearing, calling me to battle,” Sigsnyr added quietly.

Melchior looked around. The excitement from the previous night seemed to simmer under the surface in whispers and giggles. Wilfred's knights ate just as carefully as his own while Wilfred himself seemed unaffected.

“Did Wilfred not do the ritual?”

“The leader doesn't receive a blessing,” Nikolaus explained. He looked a bit sullen to not be included.

“There is no time for contemplation, Lord Melchior. The Archduke is coming posthaste,” Zargerecht warned. Melchior stopped observing and ate as quickly as elegance would allow. He left his scholars and Kolteruze at the table and hurried away with his knights who’d somehow eaten even faster despite seeming to move in slow motion.

They made it into the receiving room just as the teleportation guards said their welcome. It was not the Archduke and First Wife but Ladies Ridyarda and Joanna, their attendants. “Welcome!” Melchior said upon their entrance. They paused briefly in surprise.

“Greetings m’boy. How has the Academy been?” Ridyarda replied.

“It has been wonderful. Are you here to prepare rooms for Mother and Father?”

“Yes. We hope you will excuse us as there is much to be done,” Joanna said.

“Of course, thank you for your continued good work,” Melchior said with a hand over his heart and a gesture toward the rest of the dormitory.

“Such good manners. How precious,” Ridyarda said with a smile at Zargerecht. The two women then quickly followed after the servants.

Melchior heard the guards give another welcome and prepared again. There was a very long pause then a second welcome then, finally, the doors opened to reveal his parents. “Mother! Father!” Melchior cried and hurried over. He made sure not to walk so close they would have to block the path for their knights then waited for them to come forward before kneeling with his retainers. “We offer greetings on this glorious morning held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth.”

“You may rise,” said Sylvester then he bent down and gave him a flick on the forehead. “You scared us all over again,” he said. “You can't just leave your magic tool sitting around.”

“Now dear. We’ve barely even said hello. Let’s move to the common room so the others can teleport freely,” Florencia said. As she spoke she placed the tool in question into Melchior's hands.

Melchior blushed deeply but managed not to look away. “Thank you, Mother. I’m sorry to have used so much of your valuable time.”

She gave him a pat on the head as he led them out into the hall. “Do not worry. I had such a fun time looking at all your drawings,” she replied. Melchior tensed. There wasn't anything he particularly needed to hide in his hidden room but he hated not being there to explain some things.

They came to the common room and Sylvester rounded on his son. “Why does it look like a hunting lodge in here!” Despite his ranting, he strode over to the big chair and sat down immediately.

“Dear, why are there so many furs? Are they all from your research?” Florencia asked while she watched her husband happily sit so far back he looked like a small child.

“Yes. We thought it was sad that you had to sit in the cold training room to enjoy the big chair so we moved it to the common room. Then everyone wanted all the chairs covered so we brought over some more,” Melchior explained.

“Come sit,” Sylvester gestured to his wife. “There is space for both of us.”

Florencia gracefully lowered herself onto the edge. More knights and scholars began to arrive and regard the new decorations curiously. Her scholar brought over a small stack of papers. “Be sure to read these. They were written by Charlotte to prepare you for the tournament.”

Pepin took the papers and looked them over but before he could hand them off a great bellow of satisfaction filled the room. “How wonderful! It looks like we’ve had mighty battles this year,” came the voice.

“Granduncle!” Melchior yelled and hurried over. He knelt and gave greetings but was hauled up mid sentence.

“Tell me about the hunts that brought us this bounty,” he insisted. Melchior could only defer to his knights who were happy to tell the tales of their exploits and hear tales in return. Pepin placed the information sheet into Melchior's hands before his lord could be fully taken in by the excitement. His parents were also calling him back over. Charlotte and Wilfred had arrived and chairs were set up for them to sit across from the big chair. There was a fourth chair for Lord Bonifiatus but he was busy.

“This is an exciting year for us. We have a graduate. Wilfred, you'll be attending the Archdukes Conference this year so the socializing today is even more important,” Sylvester began. “Charlotte, you will be with me.”

Wilfred looked momentarily shocked. “Dear, we shall socialize together. There are lots of people I’d like you to introduce me to,” Florencia said before he could protest.

Wilfred managed a smile while nervousness crept into his eyes. “How wonderful, Mother. I’m certain we will make an effective team.”

“What about me?” Melchior asked. He finished reading through the papers then had them sent over to his scholars who’d entered the room then been waylaid by the exciting stories.

“You’ll be with Bonifiatus. Since he insisted on coming, we're putting him to work,” Sylvester said.

“Is it alright for us all to be here?” Wilfred asked.

“Brunhilde will remain to keep things under control and Florencia will be returning each night. There's nothing for you to worry about.”

Florencia smiled at her son. “Indeed there are other worries for you to focus on,” she added.

“Go talk with Bonifiatus about your approach,” Sylvester said. And shooed Melchior away. Florencia and Wilfred moved to another place to have their own discussion while Sylvester remained in the big chair.

“Granduncle,” Melchior called. He was interrupting an exciting tale but he had to do his job. “Granduncle, we must plan our approach.”

Bonifatius turned away from Melchior's guard knights to take in the small boy. “Yes. Our approach. It's been sometime since I socialized at the Interduchy Tournament. What's changed?”

“I don't know. This is my first time.” They stared at each other for a long moment. “I have some reports from Charlotte and my scholars. Isolde made a plan,” Melchior offered. They moved to a table and the relevant documents were presented.

“I’ve read Charlotte’s notes already. So let me see what your scholar has done. Doesn't she need to help set up?” Bonifatius asked.

Melchior glanced at Isolde who nodded. “Go if you need to. Flautzeal can take notes,” Melchior instructed. “It will not be every word,” he added. She scowled but excused herself nonetheless.

“Now, you should send your knights to the ditter meeting. Keep only one.”

Melchior did this as well as sending off his best attendant. He was left with Zargerecht, Pepin, Flautzeal, Nikolaus and Gerianne. Bonifatius regarded the tiny girl in her knight uniform quizzically.

“Can she even wield a sword?” he asked.

Melchior sort of tipped his head around. “Better than me but she doesn't have one. She only has a mana shield,” he explained.

“Better than you? I hear that isn't difficult to achieve. She only has a shield?” Bonifatius clarified.

“If you would allow a mere knight to speak,” she said. He gave his permission. “I do not have a weapon but I have my hands, heart, and mind. If all else fails I can stay one blade with my body,” she declared.

“Ha!” Bonifatius bellowed. “That's the spirit! We’ll train you into a fine knight yet.” He promised. Gerianne beamed and stroked her shield, currently in the form of a vambrace.

They went over Isolde's map and talked about the duchies Melchior wanted to avoid.

“You want to remain in Ehrenfest but Sylvester tells me you don't want to be the Aub,” Bonifiatus said.

“That's right. I want to be just like you and Uncle,” Melchior replied.

“It's best not to be just like us. It's also best not to decide too soon. You have just as much right to seek the seat.”

“Yes, I know.”

“In any case our goal for today is to visit as many duchies as possible,” Bonifiatus explained.

“We aren't going to host people?” Melchior asked.

Bonifatius leaned in conspiratorially. “We have a very important duty. One which only the brothers of Aubs can do,” he whispered. Melchior sat on the edge of his seat, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “We must make a report about all the treats being served at the Interdutchy Tournament.”

“We must taste all the treats!” Melchior cried.

“Shush, shush, shush,” Bonifiatus said. “It is a solemn duty. We must use discretion.”

Melchior giggled and nodded. They smiled together and began making their way to the stadium.

Chapter Text

The First Tournament

Fonsel appeared along with Bonifiatus’s other knights. Melchior greeted him warmly. Once they were all assembled, they went to the forest exit.

“It is much nicer to fly than to trudge through the central building,” Bonifatius said as he summoned his lion. Melchior summoned his alongside. “Are those flowers?”

“Yes. Do you like them?” Melchior asked and petted his mounts fluffy mane.

“They aren't awful but they are a waste of mana. As is the mane all swooshy as it is,” Bonifiatus said as he reached out and touched it in spite of himself.

“But it's nice,” Melchior argued. Not to mention, people seemed to enjoy petting it.

“I suppose it is,” his granduncle conceded before mounting up. “Let’s away!” He yelled and bounded into the air.

Night had been threatening to fall the last time Melchior flew over the Royal Academy. This time the ivory buildings glittered in the morning sun. The giant windows gave a clear view to all the fancily dressed nobles walking around in their colorful capes. The air was also full of ordonnanz and highbeasts. They did an extra loop around the stadium just to take in the view before landing in front of an entrance. There were black cloaks guarding the doors while many people streamed in. Most of those who chose to fly seemed to be from Dunkelfelger.

Melchior walked with Lord Bonifiatus while their guard knights surrounded them. He told Melchior a story about his treasure stealing days. “You broke a statue?” Melchior shuddered at the potential repercussions.

“I’m sure its been fixed,” Bonifiatus replied. They made their way up to Ehrenfest’s spot. As the fifth ranked duchy, they were afforded a premium position with plenty of space. They just didn't have enough students to fill it. Even with all the tables and displays there was tons of extra unused area. “Incredible. When I was a student we had a tiny square over in the pit,” Bonifiatus said. He gestures to a tight collection of lesser duchies with small spaces and only a few tables each.

“Wow. How did we fit in there?” Melchior asked. Their current space was overly generous but he couldn't imagine having so little.

“We didn't really. Though we had less research to publish,” Bonifiatus explained. “Oh, it is Rozemyne!” he called out suddenly.

Melchior followed his line of sight. The Aub of Alexandria had appeared with Ferdinand and was walking around her section looking things over. Lord Bonifiatus seemed drawn in by some mysterious power. “We cannot go over yet, Granduncle. We must wait for the second half,” Melchior said and grabbed his finger. There would be no hope of holding him back if Bonifiatus made an honest effort but he stopped and looked at the small hand clutching his and stopped.

“Yes, you're right. We will have our chance.”

“They have amazing treats. It will be worth the wait,” Melchior promised.

They waited and watched Ehrenfest and Alexandria finish their preparations and eventually the tournament began with the loud sounding of third bell. It was different to the other bells and seemed to come from another place. Everyone cheered and the knights assembled. Ehrenfest had the honor of being first this year thanks seemingly to random chance.

“Why don't you give a speech, Granduncle,” Charlotte called. “The knights would be greatly encouraged.” She declined to mention that they would be discouraged should they have to listen to another speech from Wilfred.

“Yes, I think I can. Form up then,” he called and the knights all hurried over and formed lines. Sigsnyr and Zipporah were each at the front of their lines while Wilfred stood in front of everyone. “Knights of Ehrenfest. You have trained and grown much in the past years. We are stronger now even than when I was young. I have absolute confidence in this new generation. Go forth and demonstrate the strength which grows beneath Schutzaria's watch. Stand before all of Yurgenschmidt and show them the knights who turn back winter itself!” he bellowed loud enough for all their neighbors to hear. The young knights and the adult knights replied with a huge cheer that seemed to echo off the stadium walls before the apprentices leapt over the railing and onto their highbeasts.

“I can't wait to play,” Melchior said as they moved to the railing to watch. He was glad to have Fonsel and Bonifiatus’s knights around so he could stand close enough to see. The dark yellow cloaks flew a circle around the arena. Melchior tried to find his knights but they were all wearing full plate. Only Wilfred was easy to spot in his decorative armor.

“I cannot believe he is using it here of all places,” Bonifiatus grumbled.

“What do you mean, Granduncle?” Melchior replied.

Bonifiatus pointed towards Wilfred and huffed. “He’s created that golden monstrosity and now flaunts it before the other duchies. Remember this Melchior, it isn't good to stand out in this way.” Melchior looked at Wilfried's cool golden armor. Its chest plate was fashioned after the head of a lion as was the helmet.

“I think it looks nice,” Melchior argued.

“Angriff need only concern himself with the function of armor. That suit looks more conspicuous than the Archduke’s. What will people say about him upstaging the heir?”

“If you would excuse a knight to speak,” a young blonde knight of Bonifiatus’s began.

“What is it Traugott?” Bonifatius snapped.

“Lady Charlotte wears a similar suite of armor. When confronted with the very question you’ve asked, his solution was to ensure the heir is even more conspicuous.”

Bonifatius shook his head with a sigh. “Do not be taken in,” he grumbled to Melchior.

They watched Professor Rauffen walk forward to a large magic circle and kneel down to activate it. Melchior watched in awe as a large ovular ball with many dark spots in a regular pattern appeared.

“A nasty thing, that,” Bonifiatus muttered.

“You know what it is?” Nikolaus asked.

Bonifatius pulled his grandson up to the railing and threw an arm over his shoulders. Nikolaus tried to wiggle out and return to his post but was held totally fast. “That thing lives in swamps in the south of Yurgenschmidt. It shoots legs out of those holes and jets of water that knock you off your highbeast. If it catches you it buries you in the swamp for later.”

Both boys paled. It began to roll around and attack the knights. There were no jets of water but it was incredibly fast and could jump quite high. The students worked on shearing off legs and trying to throw spears or magic tools into the holes. He wondered if you couldn't bind it with bands of light to make things easier.

“There's no water,” Nikolaus observed.

“Yes but it's still vicious on solid ground. If it grabs one, it’ll pummel them against the floor,” Bonifatius explained. He pointed out and named the formations then explained several tactics for hunting it. “You have to take the legs off then get something in the holes. Its outer hide is too hard to break with conventional weapons and resists mana. If you're really skilled, you can jam something in behind the leg bone without cutting off the limb.”

Melchior began to feel queasy. The florid description coupled with the bloody flying limbs was too much. He looked away at the stands and saw many people with ghastly faces. Then several sharp cries issued from the crowd. Melchior looked back, a student had been caught by an appendage and was being dragged away.

“Oh no!” Melchior cried. He wasn't sure who that was but he didn't want them to be pummeled.

“Just wait they'll save ‘im,” Bonifiatus said and continued his gorey explanation. A group of knights buzzed around the wailing apprentice but the creature was too fast and very invested in keeping its quarry. After a harrowing few seconds two knights broke from their formations and swept past at lightning speed. One was obviously a girl while the other held a bright white halberd. She readied her spear and yelled something at the trapped student. They stopped flailing, turned their sword into a knife, and stabbed at the appendage.

The beast didn't let him go but it did extend its leg-arm-thing to keep the stabby snack away from its softer bits. The halberd flashed many colors then sent a small wave forward. This didn't hit anything but it forced the monster to delay shooting out more legs so the large weapon could get into range. As each appendage popped up, the blade cleaved it off cleanly while the spear girl flew behind tossing flames into the holes.

Once their fellow knight was free she jabbed her spear into a void and retreated with a shout. Several knights flew in low across the ground from both sides. The monster tried to roll over but got stuck on the spear. It roared in pain and made to flail its last few limbs but one line of spears found marks in its fleshy holes.

Melchior was stunned. So much excitement had occurred almost too fast for him to see. The ditter bell rang as the summoning circle dulled. “A fine time. Very impressive for facing such a rare beast,” Bonifiatus observed.

“Have you ever fought one, Grandfather?” Nikolaus asked while Melchior tried to keep in his breakfast.

“Oh no. Those things stay in their swamps. We don't have anywhere for them to hide in Ehrenfest,” he replied sadly. Melchior wondered why you’d be sad about not having to face such a horrifying creature.

The crowd cheered as Ehrenfest returned to the stands and Dunkelfelger took off. “Fine work. Good coordination. You can be proud of your showing today,” Bonifiatus said to the knights. They clammored and celebrated, delighted by his praise. “Now there's other work to be done. Dismissed!”

Melchior and Charlotte’s knights returned to their charges. Melchior's took off their helmets and knelt before him awaiting instruction. “You did very well. I feel that I recognize that halberd. Was that you Theodore?”

Theodore smiled and nodded. “I just followed Zipporah’s instructions. I didn't think it would work.”

“It worked only because you listened and acted immediately,” she replied while Sigsnyr nodded.

“It was terrifying to watch. I’m glad you are all ok. Does anyone need healing?” Melchior asked. Theodore had a small sprain in the wrist from nicking the hide while swinging his polearm but they were generally unharmed. “Should I heal the student that was caught?” he wondered aloud.

“You can leave him to our healers,” Bonifiatus said. “Give your instructions. We have no time to spare.” His eyes had a hungry glimmer.

“Oh yes. We must try all the treats!” Melchior babbled happily. “Return and change into your normal uniforms. Sigsnyr join the attendants. There is much work and Fonsel is here to assist.”

“Truly?” Sigsnyr asked as he stood to execute his orders. Melchior nodded and he led the other two away with a bright smile. They launched out of the stadium at shocking speeds leaving poor Theodore struggling to keep up.

Melchior and Bonifiatus began making their way around the stands. Bonifatius had to be reminded that they would visit Alexandria in the second half. He explained the ditter battles while Melchior told stories about the people he knew from each duchy. They carefully dodged the fervent invitation of Gilessenmeyer’s attendants and slipped over to Immerdink.

“We do not need to see the Aub or Archduke Candidates. We are just here to see your research and try the food,” Bonifiatus explained in exasperation. They were at the third duchy and he was tired of giving greetings and making meaningless conversation. “We are not positioned to make deals. It would be a waste of everyone's time.”

The student begged forgiveness and quailed under his seriousness but they had instructions to direct all Archduke Candidates to a high table. Thus they were taken before Aub Vogtwerk and Aldegandt. They knelt for first time greetings, Melchior remembered to invoke Ewigeliebe, then they sat down.

“Lord Bonifiatus, it's been some time since I’ve seen you at one of these events.” Aub Vogtwerk said as he tasted a snack for poison. Melchior didn't find them all too impressive, they seemed to be a lesser version of a traditional Klassenberg refreshment. At least it was tasty. He gave his compliments anyway.

“Indeed. We are glad to be in a place to send more Candidates this year. How are your sons? They must be devastated to be left at home,” Bonifatius replied.

“Oh they only come for the ditter anyway,” the Aub replied. “I’m glad they can be entrusted with the duchy. Else my wife would be unable to come.”

They chatted about the weather and how Aub Vogtwerk was handling the cold. Bonifatius gave sage advice for how to layer up while looking good in the process. “The youth think the cold is an afterthought. They’ll learn once their bones are as old as ours,” they laughed.

Melchior smiled kindly at Aldegandt but focused on seeming too interested in the adults' conversation to have his own. He noticed the First Wife glancing at their table, threatening to come over so he hurried his Granduncle away.

“They’re certainly keeping tight-lipped about their internal struggles. “Bonifatius muttered.

“I’ve struggled to get information as well,” Melchior said. “Klassenberg seems to have a strong influence there and they're having a hard time with so few commoners remaining but no one will say anything else about it.”

“Melchior?”

“Yes, Granduncle?”

“That is exactly the information we are hoping to find. I don't remember seeing that in your reports,” Bonifiatus said. He stopped and looked down.

Melchior met his eyes with confusion. “That is very common knowledge. I didn't want to repeat what Charlotte said.”

“My boy, you overestimate how common such knowledge is. How did you find out?”

“I think someone in the hallway mentioned how hard their giebe has been working to improve crop yields with so few farmers while a girl from their capital doesn't like Klassenberg fashions and wishes they could develop their own,” Melchior replied. He went on to mention the other couple of people with small complaints or praise for their duchy.

“Write this into a report. In fact, have your scholar run it to the Aub right now. You’ve had this information all term?” Flautzeal hurried off after handing his diptych and some paper to Gerianne. He took another sheet and his mana pen with him. Melchior slipped Gerianne his own pen and they continued touring around.

Soon they came to the Pit, as Bonifiatus lovingly referred to it. Vogtwerk’s place had been rather small but the bottom few duchies were all cramped into a space half the size of Ehrenfest’s area. Melchior wondered if they couldn't share their space with them. The brothers of Aubs past and future tasted their way past Neuehausen and Quantreeb with apologies that they couldn't make any promises about selling recipes or trade secrets before escaping the Pit to arrive at Bershmann.

“This is where Torsten is from,” Melchior said and began to regale Lord Bonifiatus with fun facts about the duchy.

“Who is Torsten?”

“Oh. He is one of the boys courting Charlotte. She likes him so he has my support,” Melchior said. Bonifatius regarded him quizzically but didn't provide additional comment.

A student attendant walked them over to a table which included Torsten, one of his brothers, and the First Wife. After kneeling to give greetings and being greeted in turn, they took their seats and were served little golden cakes in the shapes of leaves, flowers, and cat paws. They were apparently filled with various fruits then fried in hot oil. The sweetness was very subtle and the tea was spicy.

“To what do we owe this serendipitous meeting?” Lady Nivalweiss began. She managed to cut into her cake without ruining the crunchy outer layer. Melchior did not.

“I’ve come to meet the boy who wishes to be my Grandniece’s intended,” Bonifiatus replied with a smile.

“My, have things come so far?” she giggled. “The Royal Academy is so far away isn't it⁵², Lord Bonifiatus

Torten looked ashen while his brother quietly jeered at him. “Lady Nivalweiss, nothing is certain yet,” he said.

“Indeed. But it's best not to forget Ewigeliebe until winter. Tell me, Lord Torsten, do you think yourself worthy of our Charlotte?” Both adults looked at him intently. The First Wife seemed like she wasn't planning to assist.

“Not at all, Lord Bonifiatus. Ch… Lady Charlotte is beyond me to hope for,” he replied.

“Yet you do? How curious,” Bonifiatus said with a sip of tea. He leaned back in his chair and smiled contentedly. He was having fun.

“I… I know it is ambitious. But she tells me Ehrenfest would like to avoid undue pressure from above,” he said quietly.

“We were a much different duchy then. I am now an old man and we can exert pressure of our own.”

“Indeed. I have some confidence in promised familial affection,” he muttered with a pointed look at Melchior. “Such is the reputation of Ehrenfest.”

“Have even other duchies heard of our weakness?” Bonifatius mused. He didn't sound especially reproving of the familial affection of Ehrenfest's Archductal family.

“I think it is a strength,” Torsten replied.

“As do we,” Melchior added. He tried not to mangle his second cake and failed again. He watched the First Wife carefully as she sliced herself another piece.

“Perhaps that will be more to your liking, Torsten. You did always hate fighting,” his brother teased.

“Who would enjoy that sort of thing?” he snapped back.

“A good fight always gets the blood moving. It is good to face a strong foe,” Bonifiatus replied. Torsten seemed unable to respond. He glanced at Melchior then back at Bonifiatus looking for answers. Having had his fun, Bonifiatus chuckled. “Why don't you show me your duchy’s research. I hear you wish to begin a joint venture with us. Let us see the quality of your scholars,” he said and whirled away with Torsten.

Melchior was left with the rest of the family. He smiled and shattered his third cake. “You eat these so elegantly, Lady Nivalweiss. I fear I shall never be so refined,” he said with a sigh.

“How charming you are. The secret is to have yours steamed just a little so the outside isn't as crisp,” she whispered.

Melchior realized he’d been tricked. Perhaps it was a small prank to alleviate the boredom but he felt silly nonetheless. “I see,” he replied. “It is preparation that wins the day.”

“Isn't it always.”

Melchior excused himself before she could begin extracting his secrets. He found his way back to Bonifiatus who was treating Torsten's knights to tales of heroics.

Torsten slipped in next to him at a respectable distance. “You might have warned me you would bring Lord Bonifiatus. Charlotte speaks of him like the very mountains holding up the duchy,” he muttered. “He looks like he might strangle me at any moment.”

“Do not worry. That is how he always looks. I think he likes you,” Melchior replied. “Besides, if his instincts said it was a bad match it was doomed to fail anyway.”

Torsten squeaked behind his maturely bearded face. Melchior rejoined his Granduncle. “I see you have great potential but you're squandering it,” Bonifiatus lectured. The excited knights stood at attention. “Where is your charge? How many people are between you and him?”

They glanced at Torsten who was presently being guarded by no one in particular. “We have failed,” one of the boys wailed. They moved back towards their cousin.

“You see this tiny child. She’s barely broad enough to stop a dagger but that's all she can do so she's never more than an arm away ready to throw herself before her lord.”

“It is as you say,” said the other boy. The purple knights looked sullen while Gerianne beamed with pride. Melchior was once again disturbed by the thought of anyone being hurt on his account.

“We will whip you into shape when you come to Ehrenfest,” Bonifiatus promised.

They looked even sadder for a moment. “We have pledged to protect Aub Bershmann and their family. We cannot leave Berschmann.”

“He will still be of House Bershmann when he visits with his faestone,” Bonifiatus said. Their eyes shone and they promised to improve and show him their quality.

“I pray that you live well with the divine protection of the gods…” Melchior said as they made their exit. It was lunchtime and eating many small desserts was not a replacement for a proper meal.

Melchior didn't sit with his retainers for lunch. The Archducal Family was served separately in a meeting room.

Sylvester kneaded his brow. “I’m not angry but I would like a warning about what the duchies might talk about,” he said to his children. “I’m glad you're having fun but you need to communicate.”

Melchior was confused by this chastisement. Lord Bonifiatus told him to be more thorough but he couldn't think of anything he’d omitted that the duchies would bring up. “Did something happen?” he asked.

Florencia fixed him with her smile. A chill ran down his back. “I should say you are the worst offender,” she said calmly.

“Aub Hauchletze thanked me profusely for our timely aid. Rozemyne waxed poetic about your gifts which you never told us about. Heisshitze of Dunkelfelger wormed his way into our conversation with Alexandria just to introduce his cousin. What can I expect from the lesser duchies if you’ve managed to make such an impression with the higher ranks?”

“I had no idea we’d collectively sent aid to Hauchletze and received gifts in return,” Charlotte added.

“I was advised that you would find sudden gifts for a service you hadn't rendered obtrusive,” Melchior replied.

“I might have rendered aid as well had you informed me, dear brother.”

“I did not want to trouble you,” Melchior said and glanced away sheepishly.

“We are troubled by things we cannot anticipate,” Florencia said. “Next time be sure to involve your siblings. We must present a united front.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“What did you get?” Wilfried asked. Melchior described the return gifts. “A seven color fabric? How is that possible?”

Zargerecht went to retrieve the fabric and presented it to the Aub and First Wife. “It's rather exciting,” Florencia observed.

“Yes. There is much to look at,” Charlotte added.

“My retainers advised me to use it in a discreet fashion. I was planning a dressing gown,” Melchior explained.

Sylvester touched it and looked at the pattern with great interest. Zargerecht tried not to look troubled. “I can understand that but don't you want to waltz around in a flashy surcoat?”

Melchior nodded excitedly. It would never match anything so he wouldn't need to try.

“I believe a house coat is the perfect preparation. Then you may enjoy the bright fabric without distracting others at events,” Florencia said. Wilfred and Zargerecht breathed a sigh of relief. Wilfred loved the wildly ornamented but preferred more muted clothing. Melchior and Sylvester shared a disappointed look.

“So, is there anything I need to know before the lesser duchies throw themselves at my feet?” Sylvester asked. He looked at each of his children in turn. Melchior just smiled and shook his head. He couldn't think of any one else he’d helped or hadn't disclosed information about. “Ok. We just have one more round to go. Stay strong everyone.”

After Lunch

The rest of the Archductal family walked to the venue but Lord Bonifiatus wanted to race Melchior's guard knights. Melchior floated before them with his arm raised. “Ready… go!” he yelled and they shot off at high speed ruffling his hair and leaving Bonifiatus’s guards in their dust.

Theodore, Fonsel, Gerianne and the other retainer's, flew with Melchior at a more leisurely pace. It wasn't a long flight and they found Bonifiatus congratulating Sigsnyr on his win with great slaps on the back. Traugott stood with Zipporah, noticeably out of breath, and asking her questions about how they could fly so fast.

It was finally the second half, so the moment the bell rang to recommence festivities, Bonifiatus led them directly to Alexandria. “Rozemyne!” he boomed as they swept into the fiery sea of cloaks.

“Master!” “Grandfather!” Cornelius and Angelica yelled as they stepped between the rampaging grandfather and his granddaughter.

“Oh come now. She is not a fragile little girl anymore,” he said and smiled warmly. “Look how you've grown.”

Ferdinand also gave them a radiant smile. “Uncle, you're worrying the knights,” he said sweetly.

Rozemyne walked forward and took both of Bonifiatus's hands. “Welcome Grandfather. Isn't our duchy lovely. I should never have made it this far without your support.” Bonifatius blushed and grinned like a child. “Come sit. You must try the treats,” she said and walked hand in hand back to their table.

“How are you Uncle,” Melchior asked as he fell into step beside Ferdinand. His grumpy Uncle seemed happy for once.

“I have been most vexed today. Perhaps you can explain why small children are running to me for aid?” On second inspection, this was Ferdinand's expression for when he was mildly displeased. Melchior was momentarily sad to see that he wasn't wearing blue like he usually would. Instead he and Rozemyne were in matching charcoal grey outfits. The embroidery on Ferdinand's began a dark red then transitioned through orange and gold into a light yellow that matched his eyes. He was then wearing the Alexandria cape clasped with the brooch from Charlotte. Melchior smiled as he realized that all the blues and yellows matched Ferdinand's and Rozemyne’s eyes and hair.

He was still confused by the question. “Why do you think I could explain?” he asked as they sat down.

“Oh, she seemed very interested in my brooch. I now see that you are the only other person wearing one,” his uncle replied. Ferdinand leaned back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other, and swapped his smile for a light glare.

Melchior wanted to point out that his entire retinue was wearing them but it didn't even sound like a good defense in his head. This could be his fault but that would depend. “Did she have green hair and particularly lady-like manners?”

“So you know it was a girl,” he said with a frown.

“What are you grumbling about on such a wonderful day, Ferdinand?” Bonifatius asked. The fawning pair were pulled into the conversation.

“We were going to visit Klassenberg when a little girl ran up to him and tried to hide behind his sleeves,” Rozemyne explained. She went on to say that, of course, Eckhart would never allow someone so close to his lord, for which Bonifatius offered praise, so he’d stepped between them. She'd then looked up from the brooch to the face of the person wearing it and made the snap decision to hide behind Eckhart instead. Apparently, there was a group of equally young boys following her around and teasing her.

“The boys were incidental. Did you really not notice her true fear was of her attendant,” Ferdinand sighed.

“Did you help her?” Melchior asked. He would feel awful if his advice had led her into even greater trouble.

“Kind of,” Rozemyne said.

“Why did she run to me, a stranger, Melchior?” he pressed.

Melchior shrank a little under his gaze. “I may have told her that everyone wearing a brooch with a white branch would offer her assistance. Yours isn't white but it is rather pale.” Ferdinand called over Justus to remove it. “Wait, wait. She is the only person I promised that.”

“Yes Ferdinand. You were so mean, she would not look to you for assistance again,” Rozemyne said with a pout.

“Why should he assist random children of Klassenberg?” Bonifatius asked.

Ferdinand returned a look of faux surprise. “But I was so kind. I shooed the boys away and even gave her advice.”

Rozemyne frowned. “You told them that if they can't perpetrate their cruelty with discretion and elegance, then they'll never be fit even to shave wooden boards in a frozen barony at the edges of Klassenberg. Then when she tried to thank you and introduced herself you told her to leave as you would never again have business with her and to eliminate her maid if she hated her so much.”

“That is good advice,” Bonifiatus mused.

Melchior paled. “Eliminate her attendant!” he squeaked.

“Yes. Even a child can use poison,” Bonifiatus clarified.

Rozemyne and Melchior shared matching looks of horror. Ferdinand pinched the bridge of his nose. “It would be best not to begin with extremes. If anything she should mildly poison herself and have the woman fired for negligence.” Melchior’s uncles posed a few more dastardly plans before Rozemyne interrupted them.

“You are scaring the children,” she said and gestured to Melchior and Flautzeal’s deathly pale faces. “Look, I am using your gift,” she said and gestured to her ordonnanz roost and the diptych sitting beside it, handedly changing the subject.

“You are! Do not tell her, but I’ve painted another one for Letizia so she will still get a gift,” Melchior whispered.

“So you did paint this,” Ferdinand mused. “Your drawing skill is quite good but I see you are progressing as a painter as well.”

Melchior almost sighed with delight. Such praise was rare and beautiful. “Would you like one as well? I promise it will be better than the drawings you disliked,” he asked. This was an opportunity to redeem himself.

“I do not recall saying I disliked them,” Ferdinand replied.

“You were so brief in your letter. Of course he assumed you disliked them,” Rozemyne countered.

“Hold on. Why have you read my reply?”

“I am the Aub of Alexandria. All inter-duchy correspondence crosses my desk,” she said with a sly look.

“It crosses our desks and you do not generally read my mail.”

An attendant hurried over and whispered into her ear. “Oh, Aub Gilessenmeyer wishes to join us.”

“We should go,” Melchior muttered to Lord Bonifiatus. His Granduncle looked loath to part with his granddaughter but agreed they should avoid that duchy.

“You are leaving. Stay, I will turn them away,” Rozemyne declared.

“Fool, you cannot prioritize Archduke Candidates over an Aub,” Ferdinand said.

“But they are much more adorable,” she argued against his steely expression. “Perhaps you can stay and we will all speak together?”

Melchior shook his head. “Lady Samira deeply dislikes me. I will hurt your negotiations.”

“How could she be so misguided?” Rozemyne wondered. “Well, alright. We will send your treats back to Ehrenfest,” she promised, which alerted Melchior to the fact that he hadn't touched his sweets.

“Thank you ever so much. I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven the threads of our fates tightly together,” he called as they hurried away.

“May our parting be brief,” she replied.

They had to give way for Aub Gilessenmeyer and Samira to pass. They both took long looks at Melchior as they walked bye.

“I’m sorry we had to hurry away, Granduncle,” Melchior whispered.

“I completely understand. That woman is a terrifying opponent.” Melchior nodded his agreement. If she was anything like Beatrice, she would be very scary.

They made their way around the circle. Melchior contemplated what they should talk about as payment for their sweets when they passed Dunkelfelger and were drawn in by an attendant. Melchior expected to meet with Hannalore but they were guided to a different table with an older woman and a young man with a sour expression.

Melchior and Bonifiatus knelt while the elder gave greetings. Melchior’s blessing was slightly larger once again. He vowed to practice more to control it. Flautzeal shuffled his papers then leaned in to whisper. “That is Lord Lestilaut and his aunt, Lady Aleferna, I think.”

It seemed that Bonifiatus knew for sure this woman was Lady Aleferna. They greeted each other warmly. “Lord Bonifiatus, it has been such a long time. You haven't aged even a day,” she cooed.

“And you are as lovely as ever,” he replied. They were given strong tea and a cake soaked in vise with whipped cream on top. Melchior wasn't a fan of non fermented roher and didn't think the processing improved them at all.

“I hear your vigor has not waned. Tell me, have you gotten stronger since we last dueled?” said Lady Aleferna. The older pair continued chatting and flirting while Lestilaut and Melchior sat awkwardly beside.

“I’ve heard much about your matches of treasure stealing ditter against my sister, Lord Lestilaut,” Melchior ventured.

“Oh, and what did you hear?” Lestilaut replied sharply. He sat with his arms crossed and looked like he didn't want to be talking to them. Yet he was the one who called them over.

Melchior then remembered that Lestilaut had lost both those games. “She remains impressed by the skill and discipline of Dunkelfelger's knights and your own unrelenting spirit,” Melchior replied quickly. He tried to think of anything else to talk about, but he knew next to nothing about this Archduke Candidate.

Lestilaut smiled at this praise. He gestured for his attendant to pass him a book. It was small and bound in the Ehrenfest style and had a small painting on the cover of a sword instructor and her two students.

“My book,” Melchior cried. He then reminded himself to maintain his poise. It shouldn't have been surprising to see a book he lent to Dunkelfelger appear before him at their table. “I see Lady Hannalore has shared it with her fellow duchymen.”

“Indeed. I found the passages quite enlightening even if some were rather basic. The drawings are also alright. I’m led to believe that you drew them,” he replied.

“Yes, that's right. I’m planning to draw all six sets of forms as I learn them.”

“There are only six forms in Ehrenfest,” Lestilaut asked with a smug attitude. “There are nine in Dunkelfelger. Perhaps we shall produce our own book to enrich our fellow duchies,” he mused. “You requested that it be returned by the end of term did you not?”

Melchior nodded. The book was passed to Flautzeal who checked it over then passed it to Pepin who stowed it away.

“Were you intending to submit it to The Society?” Lestilaut asked. Flautzeal tensed and audibly crushed his papers.

“I’m unfamiliar with that organization or event,” Melchior replied. Flautzeal opened his mouth to explain then shrank under Lestilaut’s glare.

“It is just a gathering of artists. We come together to show and critique our work after the Interdutchy Tournament,” he said. “So you've yet to be invited?”

“No. Are you an artist, Lord Lestilaut?” Melchior asked excitedly. This was the first Archduke Candidate he’d met who also made art.

Lestilaut was momentarily taken aback by this naked enthusiasm but he recovered quickly. “I would say so. I’m planning to debut a large piece. You should come. I’ll give my invitation,” Lestilaut said casually. Flautzeal shivered in his seat while Melchior beamed happily.

“Thank you, Lord Lestilaut. I will try to come.” He looked toward Bonifiatus. Going by himself might be difficult and would absolutely be less fun. “Can I bring other people?”

Lestilaut frowned differently. “Each attendee is required to bring an art piece. They are generally submitted in advance but since this is your first invitation you may bring your piece with you. Even Archduke Candidates can bring only two retainers into the venue by order of the Zent. We want to preserve the relaxed atmosphere and not crowd the space, you see.” Melchior nodded. It would be difficult to bring his sister or mother if they could only have one guard between them.

“I hope to make it. I will try to bring something worth sharing,” Melchior promised.

“See that you do. It should be a bit grander than some illustrations,” he added.

Melchior sipped his tea. He didn't have many pieces that were grander than an illustration. The conversation was calming down between the old friends so he took this opportunity to give his farewell.

“My lord, you have been invited to The Society. I’ve been searching for the way since last year,” Flautzeal whispered once they were far enough away. “Please take me with you.” he begged.

“He can only bring two retainers. They will have to be knights,” Gerianne said. Flautzeal looked as though he would cry. She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure it's terribly stuffy if its all archnobles,” she consoled.

“A paradise of only the most refined tastes, and I shall never see it,” Flautzeal wailed. “Perhaps I will train as a knight.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Melchior promised.

“You can't put yourself in danger by not bringing knights,” Fonsel snapped. Melchior was both shocked and embarrassed. He only nodded his agreement and gave Flautzeal a consoling look.

The lesser duchies continued to ditter while Melchior and Bonifiatus made their way through Klassenberg and Hauchletze. It was much easier to talk the greater duchy attendants into putting them at a lower table where they could have their treats without making small talk. Only Frenbeltag was unbending.

“They are insistent,” Melchior whispered to Bonifiatus.

“Have you forgotten? The First Wife is my niece. The Aub is your Uncle.”

Melchior had forgotten. In all the bustle of the tournament, he’d tried to talk his way out of his long awaited meeting with his extended family. They were brought to a table with a copy of his mother and brother. He knelt and introduced himself.

“Its been too long, Uncle. And little Melchior, We’ve heard so much about you. How nice to finally meet,” Constanze said cheerfully.

“I’m happy to meet you as well,” Melchior replied. He looked at Rudiger. It was so strange to see someone who looked so similar to his brother. “I heard you were recently wed. Congratulations!”

“Yes. It is a shame she could not attend this year. I think the two of you would get along well,” Rudiger replied.

Bonifatius asked about their duchy and how the Aub was treating Constanze. Melchior talked with Rudiger about the trials of Spring Prayer and how the smiles of the villagers made it all feel worth it. They ate delicious tarts and drank a delightfully mild tea. Melchior was sad that he couldn't meet his uncle but the Aub was tied up with representatives from other duchies. Constanze had already abandoned him to speak with her uncle.

They parted with promises to see each other again and an invitation to visit Frenbeltag.

Eventually they made their way back to Ehrenfest to prepare for the award ceremony.

The attendants and spare apprentice knights began clearing away the food and chairs while the scholars broke down their displays. Melchior’s retainers all rejoined him. “How were the research demonstrations?” Melchior asked when Isolde looked sadder than ever before.

“I wanted to circulate with you but Veremund made me help explain your research as well as my own. I spent the whole time talking about brewing rather than listening to exciting conversation,” she complained.

“Thank you for your hard work,” was all Melchior could say while giving her a pat on the shoulder.

Sigsnyr, by contrast, looked elated. “I couldn't be of much help. But I did my best,” he explained.

Kolteruze sighed. “He’s not terrible but he’s so jumpy and wasn't at any of the meetings. At least he can carry heavy things and didn't break the crockery.”

“I’m not usually so high strung. It's the blessing of Angriff,” Sigsnyr explained.

“I still feel taunt as a drawn bow,” Theodore observed and Zipporah agreed.

“It takes ages to pass,” Sigsnyr sighed. Someone yelped after tripping and the three knights produced shields instantly.

“Good reflexes,” Bonifiatus said with a laugh.

Melchior looked at Theodore’s shield and oohed. “Its so amazing in real life!”

Several people turned to look at it. Theodore blushed from the attention. “It certainly isn't the standard, but it's the right shape for formations and has a very good circle,” Bonifiatus observed.

“It's from Schutzaria's Shield,” Melchior explained.

“Its kind of complicated but the protection is worth it,” Theodore added. “Lord Melchior created the design based on my schtappe.”

“You designed this?” Bonifiatus asked.

Melchior nodded. “Theodore already had such a nice schtappe so I drew weapons for him instead.”

“Instead of what?” Fonsel asked.

“Instead of schtappes. Zargerecht didn't want to change his. Do you want me to make one for you?” Melchior asked.

“That depends on how good you are,” he replied. The knights dismissed their shields and showed off their decorative sticks.

“I have to admit that Isolde's is the best. Its more important that everyone is happy with theirs though,” Melchior noted. Isolde was made to bring hers out. She showed it off proudly.

“I think I will take you up on it,” Fonsel said as he examined the beautiful little object. Bonifatius was more interested in Nikolaus’s but agreed they were well considered and eye catching.

Footnotes

52. “Information takes a long time to return from the Royal Academy” basically, “I wasn't aware.” ^{^}

Chapter Text

Awards

The students were called to the field so the schtappes were put away and they moved toward the railing. The knights easily leapt over and summoned their mounts midair while everyone else had to wait for a bit of space to open up. Gerianne stopped Melchior from trying the more dangerous method and cleared space for him. He summoned his lion a little smaller than normal then followed Charlotte down to the field. He watched carefully as she directed everyone and watched as the knights gracefully jumped off a few feet from the ground then caught their faestones as they coalesced.

No one could stop him from trying this. He swung his leg over, was reminded of Raphaela’s hair raising riding posture, then slipped off to the ground. It wasn't a long drop at all. He landed safely but his highbeast hovered over his shoulder and seemed to give him an amused look. It would take more practice.

Before any of the festivities, Rozemyne was called to the stage. As the First in Class of the Archduke Candidate Course, she would perform the post ditter ritual. Melchior wondered if it wasn't because she was one of only two students that could. She summoned a beautiful staff and began spinning it over her head as she chanted. A loud crashing sound filled the air and mana rose like steam from the assembled students. Only a few duchies seemed to have conducted the pre-ditter ritual successfully. Melchior pushed out a bit of mana and found it was drawn up with everything else.

Once a massive pillar shot into the sky and a snake-like dragon flew into the clouds, the knights all gave sighs of relief. “I’m so glad I don't have to wait all week,” someone whispered.

This ritual thus concluded, Rozemyne led her knights back to their duchy's section. The clear stage was then descended upon by black cloaks. Sovereign Knights landed in the flashy way knights liked to land then the royal family dropped one by one beginning with the Zent. They wore shining outfits covered in gems and gold. Eglantine diadem glittered beautifully in the evening light. She was swiftly joined by Anastasius then the Zent Emeritus and his first wife. Hildebrand stood at the end of this line with a forced smile. Melchior was amazed they could manage the entire country with so few people. It made sense that they would accept Rozemyne’s deal in exchange for allowing her use of the country gates.

The Zent stepped forward and spoke into a sound amplifier. “Ewigeliebe, the God of Life, grants his harsh judgment each winter and your gathering here today means you have endured it,” she declared. Melchior wanted to cheer. The older students look more bored than excited. Perhaps this speech was given every year. “We have watched with great interest the growth and development of our children. Let us celebrate the fruits of their diligent work!”

She was followed by a man in armor who announced he would give awards for ditter. His inner cloak was red. Scholars in several different colors under their black capes came up with three boxes.

“First place: Dunkelfelger. Second place: Alexandria. Third place: Ehrenfest. Send forth your representatives.”

There were cries of joy and sadness from the crowd. Wilfred groaned terribly even as he led a small group forward to receive the glowing blue medallion. No one had anything to say about Dunkelfelger’s victory but they commented on Ehrenfest and Alexandria.

“No one seems surprised that Dunkelfelger won,” Melchior whispered to Gerianne.

“They’ve won every year since before the civil war,” she replied. He had a new found respect for the blue duchy. He also wondered how they kept losing to Rozemyne.

Wilfred returned with his spoils looking sullen. “I know you wanted to win, but we did so well. There's no need to be sad, dear brother,” Melchior cooed.

“How will the knights have pride in our performance if you look so disappointed,” Charlotte whispered. Wilfred forced a smiled and stood up a bit straighter.

The knight was replaced by a scholar and more boxes. He announced the most important research from that year. Alexandria came first for their new mana efficient machines. They were integrating magic tools into mundane constructs to mitigate the drawbacks of both. Drewanchel was then awarded second for discovering some new class of faebeast.

Ehrenfest received third place along with Klassenberg and Frenbeltag for their continued work on Divine Protections. It seemed that this year, they had published more specific results on acquisition rate and total mana efficiency gained per protection. Melchior wondered how people could still be so poorly informed if their research was announced so publicly. A glance around told him that most people just weren't listening.

Charlotte and Philine went up as the representatives this time. Some scholars grumbled but no one could deny her contributions. They returned with a yellow medallion emblazoned with Mestinora's sigil.

Finally an elegant woman with a red and black cape floated onto the stage. She announced in a clear voice that the attendant awards would be presented. “Those who garnered the most visitors and dispensed hospitality of the highest grade will be honored today.” Melchior could barely breathe. The attendants had worked so hard. He also hadn't been at Ehrenfest's tables during the event. Whether they’d seemed successful, he had no way of knowing.

“First place: Klassenberg. Second place Dunkelfelger.” Melchior felt surprised that so many people would visit to eat their lackluster refreshments. “Third place, Ehrenfest.” Screams of delight and disappointment issued from Ehrenfest and Alexandria. Alexandria had been incredibly busy but it seemed that Ehrenfest had better service. Bertilde looked transported by joy even as a sixth year went up to receive the red medal instead of her.

“Congratulations everyone. I know you all work with great dedication,” Melchior cheered. He turned to his own attendants and gave them words of praise as well.

“Thank you, my lord. It was, indeed, hard work,” Kolteruze replied.

The medal was carefully shown around to all the attendants while the next portion of the ceremony was prepared.

“We shall now announce those worthy of honors for their exceptional grades. Those named come forward,” announced a scholar.

There was murmuring around the whole stadium. This was apparently the important part of the ceremony. Even those from lesser duchies could expect prizes now.

“This year's First in Class for all sixth years is Rozemyne of Alexandria,” he announced. Everyone clapped and smiled as she walked up on stage. She was also first for the scholars and Archduke Candidates. The first in class attendant was a girl from Klassenberg who Melchior recognized as one of Gentaine’s retainers.

Rozemyne kneeled before Eglantine who fixed her with a genuinely brilliant smile. “Rozemyne Tocher Linkberg Addotie Ehrenfest Aub Alexandria. For six years you have produced exceptional work. Your contributions to Yurgenschmidt are greater than any one honor could convey. It is with immense joy and gratitude that we celebrate your achievements today. May you continue to thrive in the divine protection of the gods.” Melchior clapped until his hands hurt. The entire stadium roared and cheers rang out from every corner.

“It is an honor to be of use to Yurgenschmidt,” Rozemyne replied, then rose and turned to face the exuberant crowd. She gave a small wave toward Alexandria’s stands. Melchior followed her gaze to find Ferdinand clapping beside Justus and Eckhart. The celebration didn't quiet until she was hidden within the fiery cloaks once again. Gentaine’s attendant knelt as well and received praise for her brilliant work and dedication. The applause was not as loud but everyone still cheered for her.

With the Firsts in Class awarded, the sixth year’s honor students were called according to rank, beginning with the person with the second highest grades. Wilfred was called forward followed by Ortwin. The joy within his body could only be contained by a quiet retort from his best friend. Melchior couldn't hear what they said but Charlotte suspected Wilfred had declared his victory after six years of trying only to be called out for his lack of romantic partner or some such.

The Firsts in Class for the fifth year were from Drewanchel and Dunkelfelger. Charlotte received honors very near the top ranks. Sigsnyr was also called as an honor student for the knights course. “Congratulations, Sigsnyr. I always knew you were exceptional. It's good that others can see as well.”

“I am so proud of you. You seemed to rush through but I see you were not slack in the slightest,” Zipporah added. Sigsnyr smiled brightly and whirled up to receive his praise from the Sovereign Knights Commander.

Zipporah and Kolteruze received honors next. Zipporah looked happy while Kolteruze just looked relieved. “I am so fortunate to have so many amazing retainers. I cannot say I’m surprised at all. Your skill is well known, Zipporah. And your work, Kolteruze, shames even the attendants of princes.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Kolteruze said with a blushing grin. Sigsnyr grasped Zipporah’s hands and jumped around giving compliments. She hurried up to the stage to escape him, her cheeks completely red.

Isolde was the only third year to receive honors. She was low on the list but no one withheld praise. “I knew you could do it,” Nikolaus said.

“Congratulations, Isolde. Your worth has been acknowledged before Yurgenschmidt, but we have known all along,” Melchior whispered.

Letizia was awarded First in Class for the second years followed by a resigned looking Hildebrand and to everyone’s amazement, Flautzeal. “Flautzeal, how extraordinary!” Melchior cried.

“I think it is because most people got such low scores in the new course,” he said.

“That could never be it,” Sigsnyr replied. Everyone agreed that Flautzeal must be incredible.

“I am glad to have ranked so high this year. Please do not be disappointed if I’m never so high again,” he asked before walking to the stage. Melchior was flabbergasted. How could someone who achieved so much be afraid of future disappointment at the moment of their glory.

“He struggles to accept anything less than perfect,” Isolde mused.

Melchior spent the rest of the second year section lecturing Flautzeal on how good of a scholar he was and that he should take at least a bit of pride in himself and not worry about being perfect but accept his amazingness as it was until his own name was called.

“Melchior of Ehrenfest.” Sigsnyr steered him toward the stage.

“Why are you dallying,” he whispered. “You came First in Class.” He gave his dazed charge a soft push towards the stage.

Melchior affixed a noble smile and walked as confidently as he could. He caught a bright grin from Hildebrand then approached Zent Eglantine and knelt. Only once she showered him with her radiance did it feel real. He’d come First in Class. He hadn’t tarnished his sister's legacy.

“Melchior Sonn Ehrenfest, you have done well in your first year. Your skill in transcribing and translating the ancient language is superb. We thank you for your kind assistance and look forward to your continued growth.”

Melchior’s mind went blank. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond. The other recipients had a variety of replies. No one had advised him on what to say in this particular instance.

“I…it is an honor to be of use to the Zent,” he said after much too long a pause. Eglantine gave him a final smile before he rose and immediately descended the stage.

Sigsnyr was waiting on the other side looking shocked. “I’ve done something wrong,” Melchior whispered upon seeing his face.

Sigsnyr marshaled his expression into one of unqualified joy and replied, “No not at all. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he said and looked at all the curious faces watching them walk back to their place.

His retainers crowded around and offered congratulations. Gerianne was called as an honor student.

“I had absolutely faith in you, dear brother,” Charlotte said. Melchior felt buoyed up by their praise. His mana raced around so happily he felt sure he would have released a blessing had he had any more. He wanted to but chose to do a little compression instead.

The Society

Dinner began the moment they returned to the dorms. The Archductal family was arrayed at their own table in the dining room. Most people sat with their families as well. Sylvester gave a toast to the students' amazing achievements. There were many honor students in addition to the duchy awards. “The attendants of Ehrenfest have labored for many years to achieve this honor,” he said.

Melchior kicked his legs with glee. He was sitting beside his mother at dinner and had achieved First in Class. They chatted happily about the school year. “I went to the archive three times. I didn't do any translation for the royal family but Margarethe of Losrenger hired me to help with her work and I did Wilfred's as well,” Melchior said.

“You were hired to do scholar’s work?” Florencia asked.

“She seemed quite desperate. We talked about it in the Archduke's Archive,” he answered.

“How much did you charge for your time?”

“Lady Philine negotiated for four large golds. I was so surprised. I know I shouldn't have allowed it to come before her but I don't think my own scholars would have done such a good job. It is a great loss that Lady Philine is moving to Alexandria.” Florencia allowed Melchior to continue babbling about the struggles he and his scholars were having for lack of a more experienced guide.

One of Sylvester’s scholars came forward and presented him with several other papers. Sylvester looked them over before rising again. “We have received the additional commendations,” he announced.

“What are those?” Melchior whispered.

“They are smaller awards not announced during the ceremony,” Florencia explained.

Sylvester announced commendations for several scholars' research. One sheet was passed to Melchior.

“I didn't publish research,” Melchior muttered. He read the page. It was for Veremund’s research. It spoke about his process and encouraged him to turn his skills to more important things in very flowery language. “This doesn't seem like an award.” Melchior was listed alongside Veremund and Sigsnyr as primary contributors with his other retainers being listed as assistants.

“May I see?” Florencia asked.

“Certainly. It is for Lord Veremund’s research. He assisted us with processing the skins and provided some information about other duchies when we needed it most.” Melchior went on to praise the medscholar’s skills and endurance. “He hopes to carry on his family's business and I think he'll be quite successful.” Florencia listened to her son's explanation and read the mednobles name beside his other retainers. It seemed he got along with the others and did good work.

Once she was finished she passed the sheet to her husband who passed it to Charlotte who finally sent it over for Sigsnyr to view since Veremund would be keeping it. Another sheet was passed to Melchior by Zargerecht. It only said “society” in Flautzeal's careful hand.

“Oh yeah. Can I go to an artist meeting?” Melchior asked.

“A meeting of artists?” Florencia replied. dessert was served at sixth bell rang.

“Yes. I was invited by Lord Lestilaut of Dunkelfelger to a group called The Society,” Melchior explained.

“That boring thing. I think Ferdinand used to do that while he was in school,” Sylvester interjected.

“I remember hearing about it as well. People show their art there, no,” Florencia replied.

“I’ve been. Its a collection of the stuffiest people ever talking about the most boring paintings you've ever seen. The only value in going was hearing Ferdinand play harspiel,” Sylvester explained. “Are you sure you want to go?”

Melchior nodded. “Its just my scholar wishes dearly to go as well but I can only bring two other people.”

“I remember going in a bigger group than that,” Sylvester mused. Melchior was filled with hope. If he could bring more guards then Flautzeal could go and he could bring his mother.

“Why don't you ask your Uncle what he remembers about them,” Florencia suggested. This was a great idea. Zargerecht quickly presented an ordonnanz.

“This is Melchior. Dear Uncle, Would you tell me what you know about the Society?”

“Give me a moment,” came the reply after several minutes. Melchior enjoyed his mousse while he waited patiently.

“Would you like to go with me, Mother?” he asked.

“If I can. I think that would be nice,” she said.

Now he was even more excited. The plates were being cleared away when a magic letter arrived before him. In it Ferdinand described the rules of the organization. They were much like Lestilaut said. In addition, you could bring as many guests as had work of high enough quality to show or one if you presented two works. One for yourself and one for your guest. He also noted that those of lower status than archnobles were generally not admitted regardless of skill. Archduke Candidates were indeed limited to two retainers but there was nothing stopping you from having more waiting outside. He also suggested not bringing Sylvester.

“It seems like you can come if I bring two art pieces,” he declared and showed her the letter. People were beginning to withdraw so his knights meandered over to guard him after saying goodbye to their families or friends' families. Flautzeal stood among them with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Sylvester and Florencia read the note together and looked at Melchior and his retinue as they bounced with excitement.

“I can't believe he said not to invite me!” Sylvester grumbled.

“You did say you didn't enjoy it,” Florencia reminded him. “You want to bring your scholar?” Florencia asked.

Melchior nodded. He didn't want to vex his knights but he couldn't bear the look Flautzeal would give at being denied.

“You should take a guest that doubles as a guard then,” Sylvester mused as he tossed the offending note across the table. A mischievous look entered his eyes. He produced an ordonnanz. “Brother, Melchior was just saying he dearly wishes to go with you,” he said and sent it before anyone could stop him.

“I said I wished to go with Mother,” Melchior cried. He turned to her and assured her she was his preference.

“I know, dear. Do not lose your poise,” she reminded.

“Very well. Tell him to bring two pieces or I won't be joining,” came the reply. Melchior paled. He only had two pieces. Even if he had more elaborate pieces better than mere illustrations, they would only allow him to bring one extra person on his own skill alone.

“I… do you have any artwork you’d like to share, Mother?” he asked hopefully. “Perhaps some embroidery?”

Both his parents giggled. “I am only a passable sewist, dear. Do not worry. We can go together next year,” she said kindly. “Then you will know the process for yourself and won't need a guide. You should take Ferdinand up on his offer quickly. It is rude to delay your reply,” she chided.

“Thank you, Uncle. I shall meet with you shortly,” he said. And turned to his retinue. Kolteruze split off before any words were spoken.

“I will meet you in your tea party room post haste. Little time remains before curfew,” came the reply along with audible pleading from Rozemyne. It seemed she was being denied as well.

“Understood.”

Sylvester seemed barely able to contain his laughter. He fixed Melchior with an amused expression. “Hurry up now. Since he's going you only have to take one knight. You just need to pick which one,” he said.

Melchior turned slowly. He could only imagine the pleading looks and horrible fighting. Fonsel bowed out immediately. He had little interest in art but insisted it be one of Melchior's older guards. Gerianne and Nikolaus pouted but couldn't argue under the Aub's watchful eye. Without any deliberation, Zipporah and Theodore stepped back, leaving Sigsnyr as the choice.

“Are you sure,” he turned and asked.

“You will ask me to describe every detail if I go without you,” Zipporah sighed. Theodore just nodded. It sounded fun but he would lose based on status, skill, and age if the question couldn't be solved through pure deliberation.

Only Isolde was devastated. “You can only bring two people,” she groaned once she found out. They were walking to the tea party room. Not everyone could go inside but no one wanted to be left in the dorms.

“As an archnoble, if you have art to share, you can earn your own invitation,” Flautzeal said. He sounded kind of far away and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. His joy couldn't be put into words.

“I can't make anything as good as what Melchior produces,” she sighed.

“Maybe you could show your schtappe,” Melchior suggested.

“You designed that as well,” she groaned.

“It was a joint effort,” Melchior mumbled. They arrived quickly to find Ferdinand casually sipping tea from a cart brought by one of the apprentices.

“Thank you for coming, Uncle. I apologize for the sudden invitation. It was Father’s idea,” Melchior said upon entering.

“Was it now,” Ferdinand said with a frown. “I might have guessed. I can take it then that you do not dearly wish to go with me specifically?”

Melchior almost answered immediately and honestly but he looked into his uncle's eyes. He got the distinct impression that if he expressed anything less than enthusiastic delight at this opportunity, Ferdinand would return to his duchy and Flautzeal would have to remain outside. “Oh no, Uncle. I am overjoyed that you accepted. I did not consider it possible that you should even accept,” he replied as convincingly as possible.

Ferdinand placed down his tea and rose. He was attended by Justus and Eckhart and a small collection of Alexandrian knights Melchior didn't know. “Then let us go. As I said, time is short and there is usually much to see. Did you bring two pieces?”

Melchior nodded and gestured for Kolteruze to step forward. As much as he didn't want to bring it, his painting of the parue trees and Letizia’s diptych were his only grand works at the moment.

“I hope they are enough. One is quite small. Lord Lestilaut said it needed to be grander than an illustration,” Melchior explained.

“I don't recall that being the case,” Ferdinand replied. He watched as Kolteruze unveiled the diptych, looked it over from afar then nodded. It was handed to Pepin while Kolteruze unveiled the second painting. He was facing away from Melchior’s retinue, much to their annoyance. Ferdinand stiffened

“This is your painting?” Melchior nodded. “And this,” Ferdidnand indicated the character with the little boots, “is you?” This time Melchior demurred. “It seems like you’ve been to this place.”

“What makes you think that, Uncle. Perhaps it was a product of my imagination.”

“I can prove you have been here and more than once. You are interested in plants are you not? Were this purely your imagination you could not depict the precise varieties which should be present. Nor could you paint trees you have only seen the shadows of in the predawn light. You have accurately portrayed several specific orphans as well yet I see no guard knights. Can I assume you omitted them for effect?” Ferdinand asked.

Melchior sighed. “I have been lectured already.” His two primary lecturers nodded behind him.

“That is good,” Ferdinand said, then fixed him with a glare. “Important lessons must be reinforced.” Melchior braced for the onslaught. “You should not go to the commoner woods. Had you come to harm, every person even tangentially related to the temple would be held to account. These orphans would be killed. You would never see another day of freedom for your crimes.”

“My crimes?” Melchior asked.

“The crime of endangering a member of the Archductal family. You would implicate your retainers as well.” The retainers in question shuffled a bit on their feet.

“How can I be charged for a crime where I am the victim?”

“Grief makes people irrational,” Ferdinand replied. His glare transformed into a smile. Melchior sighed in relief. It was premature. “I have promised to protect my brother. This extends to his children. I may live in another duchy but you can be sure of my retribution should you endanger his son again.”

Melchior shivered and nodded vigorously. He couldn't imagine facing his Uncle's wrath. And what would his sister think if he became a criminal? “I will not repeat this mistake,” he promised. He looked at his painting again. Despite being mostly happy with it, he felt trepidation. “Perhaps I should not show it,” he muttered.

“It is good enough for this gathering. It will be a departure from the norm but that is not always bad,” Ferdinand replied while the painting was covered once again. “Let us go. As I said, there is not much time.”

There were students milling around with their families. He knew some of them and smiled as usual but no one seemed willing to approach the Future First Husband of Alexandria. It was for the best, Melchior thought. They were in a hurry.

They walked quickly. Only after they came to the library doors did he realize he had no idea where to go.

“I forgot to ask where it is,” Melchior admitted.

Ferdinand turned down the attendant’s hallway without stopping. “If nothing has changed then it will be in the large gathering hall in the Attendant Building,” he replied.

“Have you been there many times?” Melchior asked.

“Five times. I missed one year because of… extenuating circumstances.” They turned into a hallway full of people. They were mostly Hauchletze purple but there were some browns and greens as well. They walked past everyone to a door guarded by a black cloak.

“We are here on the invitation of Lord Lestilaut of Dunkelfelger with two pieces by Lord Melchior of Ehrenfest,” Ferdinand said with a smile.

“It's been a long time, Lord Ferdinand. Will you be playing or singing tonight?” the guard asked.

“I am here as my nephew’s guest,” he replied. The guard didn't conceal a look of annoyance at Melchior. The boy shuddered under the sudden icyness and hid a bit behind his uncle.

“Very well. Please enjoy your time,” said the guard as he opened the door.

Kolteruze handed the works to Flautzeal then stepped back. Ferdinand gestured for them to enter first then followed with Justus and Eckhart. The moment the door closed Justus’s entire demeanor changed. “I have finally made it,” he muttered happily. “Lord Ferdinand, you truly don't intend to play?”

Ferdinand fixed him with a withering look and he fell quiet. He steered the children to a table where an older woman in a Kostenlos pink and black cape sat, attended by two girls. “Welcome back, Lord Ferdinand. How wonderful to see you again,” she said and stood.

He gave her a warm smile. “I am glad to see you well.” They spoke briefly about the years he’d missed and the works being debuted tonight. Melchior considered that this woman would be from old Werkstock. It was amazing that she’d survived the purge as an archnoble and could still attend these gatherings.

“It’s been so long. I cannot wait to hear you play once again,” she said with a nostalgic look.

“I am here as a guest. It's been some time, as you say. I fear I couldn't just bring myself,” he said.

Melchior received another cold look as she took his paintings and handed them to her helpers. They continued forward. “Uncle, did you ask me to bring two pieces so you could deflect requests to play?” Ferdinand only smiled, a genuine smile, in reply. “You tricked me,” Melchior muttered in disbelief.

“As Lord Lestilaut tricked you into bringing new work he’s yet to see.”

Melchior’s entire world view warped at that moment. He thought this was a meeting of fellow artists. Perhaps Isolde was right and every meeting of nobles was a battleground. “I couldn't convince you to play so that I do not have to show both works?” Melchior asked hopefully.

“Are you ashamed of it?” Ferdinand asked. They were walking past a set of partitions.

“Not as such, it would just be better not to show it,” he said as they rounded the corner. Before them was a large room with tables and easels arrayed with various pieces. There was also a wall hung with paintings, mostly portraits, in golden frames. At the center was a nearly life-sized rendering of Rozemyne with the Spear of Leidenschaft raised above her head. “Oh my,” Melchior gasped.

Flautzeal also muttered in amazement. Their ignoble sputtering caught the attention of another woman looking at something on the tables. She did a double take and rushed over with a bright smile.

“Ferdinand!” she cried.

“Hello, it has been awhile,” he replied. Before she could speak he continued. “I am here as a guest. Please be sure to view my nephew's paintings.”

“No!” she wailed. “After all this time you come and you refuse to play. You are the cruelest man in existence.”

“I hear that quite frequently,” he said with a smile.

She looked at Melchior as he hid behind his uncle once again. “These had best be exceptional paintings,” she huffed and walked away with a handkerchief to her eyes.

“I’ve heard you are quite good, Uncle. Now I wonder whether you might be better than Kunstzeal⁵³,” Melchior whispered.

“No one could out play the goddess,” Ferdinand replied. They began walking around the tables.

“I should like to hear you play,” Melchior muttered.

“Me too,” Flautzeal added. He couldn't stop spinning around in an attempt to look at everything thing at once.

“When Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves our threads so,” Ferdinand said. He sent Justus away to look on his own and continued slowly moving from piece to piece. They looked at a few illuminated pages waiting for the rest of their book. There were indeed some illustrations and line drawings. Melchior felt even more sour. When Lestilaut arrived he didn't even go over to say hello and thank him.

At the end of the table was the entrance to another set of partitions with another guard. Melchior asked what it was. “It is a place for more mature works. There can be great artistic merit in depicting what is normally taboo but this is a space for all ages so it is cordoned off. It is off limits to children so I’ve never been,” Ferdinand explained.

“Would you like to go? We will wait for you.” Melchior offered.

Ferdinand shook his head. “You have only a single guard. I cannot leave you by yourself nor am I particularly curious about that sort of thing.”

“Thank you for protecting me,” Melchior replied and continued their tour. Eventually they came to the easels containing his own paintings. He tried to move on immediately but was pulled back by his shoulders.”
Ferdinand looked at the painting again then took a closer look at the tablets. ”This is the diptych you painted for Letizia?”

“Yes.” Ferdinand picked it up. Several people looked scandalized but he paid them no attention. “We could not secure wax on such short notice. I thought you should have wax in Alexandria.”

“We do,” Ferdinand mumbled as he turned it over and over then read the inscriptions on the side. Melchior realized that Ferdinand was now the only member of his family without one.

“Would you like one as well, Uncle?”

“I do not use them,” he replied. Then set it back down. “Is this paint made from gold dust?”

Melchior was shocked. “How did you know?” Ferdinand didn't answer, he just placed his head in his hand. “We are hoping to research it.”

“Is the gold on the other one also gold dust?” he asked. Melchior nodded. “What are you hoping to find out? Have you used it for anything practical or only decoration?”

Melchior explained their limited findings so far. Sigsnyr added that he'd discovered it could be completely erased with mana dissolver and took its medium with it.

“That's all? You've been working with it all term. Did you try to draw magic circles? Do they activate immediately? Partway through drawing? Or maybe not at all? Does the carrier affect its properties? Does it act as its own fixative or must you add another?” Ferdinand listed off question after question. Melchior took his own diptych from his belt and began taking notes. “Why did you bring a scholar?” Ferdinand asked and gestured for him to pass the tools to Flautzeal. Flautzeal was in no state to work so Sigsnyr took them instead and made the notes.

While Sigsnyr scribbled and Melchior repeated what he remembered, a luxuriously dressed woman in a purple cape walked over and picked up Letizia's tablets. Melchior couldn't help but stare in surprise along with everyone else. She also paid them no mind and turned the piece over a few times. “You are Lord Melchior, yes?”

Melchior looked up and examined her more closely. He’d seen her from afar and her clothes could only belong to a very high status woman. It was the first wife of Hauchletze. He dropped to his knee. “May I offer a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting held in the warm embrace of Geduldh, the Goddess of Earth?”

“You may,”

He offered a small red blessing along with his retainers. “I am Melchior. It is an honor to meet you.” Ferdinand just watched from the side with an appraising expression. Melchior felt a bead of sweat roll down his back as he rose from the ground.

“I am delighted to meet the young man who received such effusive praise from Her Majesty. This writing is ancient text? I am not as practiced as I once was. What does it say?”

He recited the words of praise he’d chosen. “How lovely. The diction feels quite modern. Did you compose that yourself?”

“Yes. The person for whom that gift is intended can also read the ancient language. I thought it would fit the theme of the library to use it,” he explained.

She smiled but her eyes carried the smallest hint of disappointment. “This is a gift. I find the construction strange. It is meant to be picked up but what is it?”

Melchior saw Ferdinand's expression change from appraisal to amusement. He didn't feel encouraged. “It is a tool for writing notes. It lacks the necessary wax and stylus.” Melchior gestured for Sigsnyr to pass his own tablet to her knight. Not being a knight of the vanity, the man took it awkwardly, gave it a thorough inspection for danger, then presented it to his lady. She returned the painted one to its easel and accepted the more modest version. She read the notes and made a test impression of a short sentence. Before sending it back.

“I see your own is quite plain,” she noted.

“They are usually marked with personal symbols and light decoration as they are intended to be of practical use,” he explained.

“And you began painting them?”

“I received many generous gifts from my sister and hoped to return something which might begin to approach appropriate gratitude,” he admitted.

She looked surprised, “What could she have given that this would not be sufficient gratitude?”

Melchior removed his pen from its pouch. He sent it along the chain. The knight wrote a line in the air and gasped. “I fear I shall spend my whole life in repayment,” Melchior sighed.

“I wish you the best of luck,” she said and sent the magic tool back quickly. Every person seemed anxious just holding it.

“I pray that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven the threads of our fate tightly together, Lord Melchior.”

“May our threads be woven together,” he replied and bowed as she walked away. Melchior hurried over to Ferdinand. “You said you would protect me,” he muttered.

“I recall saying I could not leave you alone,” Ferdinand replied. “You are much too free with information,” he added.

“I am told that quite frequently,” Melchior replied. Ferdinand regarded him with narrow eyes and began leading their group past more art. They soon came to the gallery wall dominated by the giant painting of Rozemyne. She was surrounded by knights in blue and ochre capes and stood before a country gate. All the knights were raising their spears in the same way. “I recognize those clothes. This was during the battle we fought alongside Dunkelfelger,” Melchior said. “Were you here as well, Uncle?”

“I believe I was indisposed at this particular moment,” he replied.

Melchior gasped. He’d managed to forget about the very reason for the battle. Of course his uncle couldn't be there for the ritual preceding the ditter battle for his own life. He looked at the painting and observed the worry and tenacity mixing on his sister's face. She’d been so scared and distraught yet led people into battle anyway. “I’m glad you didn't find the towering stairway, Uncle,” Melchior whispered. Melchior couldn't imagine the grief if he had.

“As am I,” Ferdinand whispered back. Melchior smiled up at him and they continued looking at the various pieces.

Once they were nearly finished, Ferdinand suddenly touched Melchior’s shoulder and began to kneel. Melchior followed suit despite not knowing why and being only the second person to do so. People looked at them then paled a bit and knelt facing the entrance. A few moments later, Zent Eglantine turned the corner with King Consort Anastasius and four knights.

“Please rise, friends,” she called and gestured for everyone to carry on. They rose but Melchior couldn't relax and enjoy the art as before. He was glad they were nearly finished anyway.

They would not get to retreat. Eglantine walked over to them directly. Ferdinand lowered his head and offered greetings. Melchior mimicked his movements and shuffled a little bit behind.

“Lord Ferdinand, of all those in Yurgenschmidt, you may be exempt from such courtesy,” she said in a musical voice. It was much different than the oratory tone from the award ceremony.

“I could not set a poor example,” he replied and glanced at the empty place beside him.

From her angle, Melchior was perfectly visible. “Welcome to our society, Lord Melchior. Did you bring art to share?” she asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied. “I brought two paintings.”

“Two pieces. That means you could bring a guest,” she said.

“I am his guest,” Ferdinand said with a smile.

“Oh you have made him enemies. I’m sure I’m not the only person who’s come just because they heard you were here,” she mused. Melchior paled. He’d made enemies of the Zent in his very first year. Of all the mistakes he could make, this was not one he anticipated. “Do not look so frightened. I would not hold a grudge no matter how disappointed I am.”

“You really won't play?” Anastasius asked with a frown.

Ferdinand made a perfect expression of sadness. “I have not prepared anything. I could not present inferior quality before this discerning company.” He sounded so grieved that Melchior was almost convinced despite knowing his uncle just didn't want to play.

“I’m sure your standards are much too high. We would be delighted by anything you might offer,” Eglantine replied with equally perfect consolation.

“It warms my heart to know you have such faith in me. Will you be performing tonight?” he asked.

Both Anastasius and Melchior were floored by his audacity. The Zent was not fazed in the slightest. “The Matron insists the Zent need not offer anything. I was going to whirl but I may take your example.”

“That is a true loss for the artists of Yurgenschmidt,” Ferdinand replied. Melchior had heard Rozemyne give glowing praise for Eglantine’s whirling. He felt saddened that he wouldn't get to see it. Now he had more empathy for those vexed by him shielding his uncle.

Eglantine looked toward the galley wall and caught sight of Melchior's retainers. She giggled at the tiny scholar still enraptured by the view. “You brought a scholar along, Lord Melchior?” Everyone else was either accompanied by two knights or of too low a status to have retainers.

“I fear he would leave my service had I excluded him,” Melchior replied sheepishly. He then remembered Ferdinand’s recent reprimand about his lack of discretion.

“He must be a valuable scholar indeed for you to reduce your guard,” she mused.

Melchior smiled. It was thanks to Ferdinand’s kindness that he was able to do so. “I am with my uncle. I could not be more secure,” he said and turned his smile at Ferdinand. Ferdinand also returned a smile; one of extreme displeasure. It was so beautiful, Melchior almost wasn't afraid of the colossal mistake he’d made. Eglantine reached a hand out to stop Anastasius from saying something or doing something.

“Lord Ferdinand is a knight of great renown. You are most fortunate to be in his care,” she said.

“It is as you say,” Melchior whispered.

“It seems like Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven tonight's threads with exceptional grace and speed. Curfew approaches. I’m certain Aub Ehrenfest will worry terribly if you are not back soon. It was good to see you once again, Lord Ferdinand,” the Zent said and led her husband away to chat with other people.

They left quickly. Melchior briefly panicked about his paintings but Ferdinand explained that they would be returned later, before he went home.

“Have you studied your history?” Ferdinand asked as they hastened through the much emptier halls.

“How could I be so foolish,” Melchior groaned. “She must be so sad. I reminded her of the civil war.”

“So you know what you did wrong. That is good. Now you need only remember to consider these things before speaking,” Ferdinand lectured.

“I will try, Uncle,” Melchior promised.

They came to the entrance to Ehrenfest Dormitory and stopped. “Thank you for coming with me, even though you tricked me,” Melchior said.

“Consider it payment for my protection. Enjoy your talk with Sylvester. I pray that you live well in the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves our threads together once again,” Ferdinand intoned.

“May our threads be woven tightly together,” Melchior replied with a bow. Once he was inside he stopped. “Why would he give that farewell? I’m going to see him tomorrow.” He also considered the ominous prediction of a talk with his father.

“Who can know, my lord. It is time for you to retire,” Zargerecht answered and began shuffling the children along. Fonsel followed, he would stay until Melchior was safely in his room. As they walked past the common room, Ridyarda stood at the edge of the path. She stepped forward and gestured for Melchior to go inside.

“Just you m’boy. The rest of you kids can run off to bed,” she said quietly.

Melchior anxiously said goodnight to his retainers and walked into the common room with Zargerecht and Fonsel. He could hear quiet but excited voices and a crackling fire.

“I was nearly thrown from my highbeast, but I managed to hang on with one hand and hold up my shield with the other. I blocked another hit and the force of it threw me back on my mount…” Wilfred was telling an exciting tale while Sylvester sat listening with interest. He was once again sitting in the big chair but this time Wilfred was beside him.

Zargerecht brought a chair and they quietly walked over, doing their best not to interrupt.

“Come on Melchior, sit down,” Sylvester called. He indicated the small spot on his otherside.

“How was the art thing?” Wilfred asked, pausing his gripping tale.

“It was fun. I met the First Wife of Hauchletze and the Zent,” Melchior replied. He thought it best to start with the most important details.

“Zent Eglantine is quite pretty but you went to look at pictures not women,” Sylvester teased.

Melchior had never heard such talk from the Archduke. He blushed deeply, much to the others amusement. “There were many nice pieces. Most people seem to paint portraits or illuminate texts. Lord Lestilaut painted a life size portrait of Rozemyne doing the pre-ditter ritual at Dunkelfelger’s country gate.”

“Life size?” Wilfred asked in disbelief. Melchior nodded. “Its a good thing she's so short.” Now they all giggled.

“I’m glad you had fun. I’m a bit jealous that you got to hear Ferdinand play,” Sylvester grumbled.

Melchior shook his head. “He tricked me. He told me to bring two pieces so he could count as a guest and rebuff requests to play,” Melchior complained.

Sylvester laughed at this as well. “That’s exactly the sort of thing he would do. The looks on people's faces. How devastated they must have been.”

“Is Uncle really that good?” Wilfred wondered aloud.

Sylvester nodded then told the story of a harspiel tea party Rozemyne had manipulated him into performing for to raise funds for Hasse Monastery. “They tried to hide the event from me! They thought I wouldn't notice that the entire Nobles Quarter was in the castle.”

“If you only arrived at the very end, it seems like they almost did,” Melchior observed.

Sylvester ruffled his hair. “Yeah yeah, enough about him, tell me about you. Did you have a good year?”

“I had a lot of fun. And I met so many people,” Melchior began. He told them about his first few weeks being trapped in his room with only Flautzeal and Zargerecht for company. Wilfred made him talk about the overabundance of ingredients problem and complained again about the surprise dinner invitation and the surprise prince. Melchior expressed how sad he’d been when he couldn't talk to mednobles and even explained that he’d run away because he was depressed about not getting to see his orphan friends anymore.

“You did what!” Wilfred yelled then apologized and returned to a quiet voice. Melchior remembered that he could be too free with information and chose not to fully explain in front of Wilfred.

“I didn't get very far,” he demurred. “That's why I was back earlier than planned. Being stuck in the dormitory even though I had knights was annoying,” he sighed.

“Just annoying?” Sylvester asked.

“Oh I struggled mightily with desires for freedom,” Melchior said quickly.

They discussed Wilfred's training and teased him about his terrible speeches. Melchior and Sylvester expressed their genuine pride at how well the duchy performed and their confidence that they could beat Dunkelfelger in treasure-stealing ditter.

“It’s a whole different game,” Sylvester said. Wilfred still looked genuinely sad about having come third.

Eventually the boys ran out of things to say. Sylvester withheld comment about the incredibly important events he was only just hearing about and chose to smile and encourage instead.

He wrapped his arms around both boys. Melchior was surprised to be pulled into a hug for the first time in years but Wilfred seemed completely prepared. He wrapped his similarly long arms around his father and little brother and they sat warmly ensconced in the big chair for a few breaths. Melchior closed his eyes and leaned against Sylvester’s chest.

“You both have done exceptionally well. Ehrenfest could not ask for better men. You are my pride and joy,” Sylvester said tenderly.

Melchior could barely breathe for his delight.

Footnotes

53. The greatest of all time or divinely talented ^{^}

Chapter Text

Graduation

Melchior awoke quite early, as he usually would. He still felt like he was floating just remembering the night before. Surely Geduldh's warm embrace could not compare.

He was dressed quite fancily this time. Only Zargerecht and his guard knights would accompany him to the graduation ceremony. “It is held in the auditorium but there still isn't enough space to include those wholly unaffiliated,” Zargerecht explained. Melchior tried to beg for a scholar but was told that he could make things up to Isolde another way.

His enthusiasm was only momentarily stilled. When he entered the dining room and found he would be sitting with Charlotte and Bonifiatus, all sadness flew away.

“Good morning,” Melchior chirped happily. He took in their formal outfits with awe.

“I see you’re up early as well,” Bonifatius boomed.

“I normally train before breakfast but these are important days so Zargerecht said I should spend the extra time getting ready,” Melchior explained.

“Tell me about your training,” Bonifiatus asked while they ate.

Melchior talked about his running and exercises then listened to Charlotte talk about her knight classes. “That's incredible Charlotte. I don't think I could do that,” he observed.

“When you have grown and practiced much, I think you will be able to do more. I admit I am deeply jealous of the quick progress the boys seem to make,” she replied.

“That is what enhancement magic is for. I will teach you and then you can show those archnobles what an Archduchess can do,” Bonifiatus promised.

“Thank you ever so much, Granduncle,” Charlotte replied with mixed excitement and worry.

Sylvester and Wilfred appeared when the trio were almost done while Florencia came from the teleportation hall just before second and a half bell. She was accompanied by her knights and Melchior’s head guard knight. He paled. The last time Melchior had seen Dedryck was the night before his adventure. They hadn't spoken even a sentence since then and he was sure to be angry. Dedryck just walked over, gave a formal greeting, and took up his normal position next to Sigsnyr.

Melchior did his best not to seem overcome with anxiety. He chose to distract himself with Florencia's incredible outfit. “Mother you look amazing,” Melchior complimented. Everyone was dressed well but Florencia had obviously gone to extra lengths.

“Thank you, my dear. I have to look impressive as an escort,” she said with her same calm smile. Her eyes held a sly look which she directed at Wilfred.

He was dressed in a diaphanous whirling outfit in Leidenschaft blue. “Thank you again, Mother,” he muttered. His attendant came forward with a box and presented Florencia with a hair pin.

“For me, you didn't have to,” she cooed. It was a beautiful piece composed of her favorite flowers in indigo with lush green foliage matching Wilfred's eyes.

“I could not neglect our new traditions,” he replied with a slight redness around the ears.

Sylvester looked ever so slightly cross. “It's time we made our way to the auditorium,” he said and took Florencia's arm before Wilfred could attempt to escort his escort. “You can have her once we get to the auditorium,” he grumbled. Melchior offered his arm to Charlotte and they made their way to the ceremony.

He once again sat between Bonifiatus and Charlotte. They whispered about the other Archductal families and their outfits. Melchior asked Bonifatius to point out all the trends he remembered going through then discarding. He really seemed to have lived through everything. Other people seemed more interested in the state of the auditorium. It was in its most open configuration as far as Melchior knew. There was a large round stage at the front surrounded by chairs and instruments for the graduates. Everyone else seemed to think it was smaller than normal. “Usually you can see into Farthest Hall all the way to the shrine,” Charlotte explained.

“Indeed. It seems strange to part with tradition but perhaps it is part of some new ritual or from some old text,” Bonifiatus added. Melchior couldn't remember reading anything like that but he’d only looked at perhaps a dozen slates.

Right at third bell, Zent Eglantine appeared on the stage. She wore a much more ornate version of the gold and white High Bishop’s robes emblazoned with the crest of Yurgenschmidt. Many solid looking blue priests and shrine maidens surrounded her. Those closest wore armor while the less fit looking actually performed ceremonial positions. Another High Bishop in much simpler ceremonial robes acted as high priest and called the graduates to come forth.

The graduating students walked forward in order of rank and status. Thus they were led by Rozemyne and Ferdinand. Rozemyne wore her hair in an understated but perfectly set style. Her signature front dangles were wrapped with impossibly thin gold chains which connected to a golden hair stick set with a blossoming rainbow faestone flower instead of the previously barely open bloom. She wore a shimmering gold whirling outfit with layers so thin you could see through to an underdress embroidered with a giant, fiery bird and fluttering books and words in incredibly old language that Melchior struggled to read.

To complete this impossibly beautiful display, Ferdinand escorted her in another charcoal surcoat also embroidered with script expressing joy and thanksgiving. In violation of all established convention, his hair was half pulled back into a golden cuff. It was only just long enough to accomplish this but that didn't detract from the earth-shattering vision of his tenderly smiling face. With nothing to hide it, you could see just how gentle and contentedly he gazed upon his goddess of light.

Of course the audience was full of oohs and aahs. Lord Bonifiatus shivered in his seat along with Melchior who could barely contain his adoration. Melchior was so distracted by the first pair he almost missed seeing Wilfred and Florencia. The audience was joined in a moment of true sadness when Ferdinand placed Rozemyne gently in her seat then left to sit in the empty section which would contain the non-graduate escorts. That they should be parted for even a moment felt like a tragedy.

Melchior salved his bleeding heart by looking at all the other people. Lady Hannalore sat beside her friend and whispered something they both giggled at. She seemed to be wearing two hairpins in her bundled pink hair. They matched only because both had been designed to follow Hannalore's colors.

Florencia took her seat beside Ferdinand and similarly whispered something. He didn’t giggle but returned a mildly displeased smile which she found funny. More and more students poured in and filled the chairs around the stage. The whirlers and sword dancers sat below the stage while the musicians ascended and took positions. It looked like it would be hard to see from down there and Rozemyne's stretching proved this to be the case. Lady Hannalore teased her since she was plenty tall enough to see. Wilfred seemed to toss over a quip as well because Rozemyne fixed him with a pout.

Once everyone was in position the Zent stepped forward and told the story of the first Zent acquiring a schtappe such that his prayers might reach the gods. She welcomed the new nobles of Yurgenschmidt and charged them with the care and protection of the land and her people. Then she lifted her hands in the air and chanted a prayer to the God of Darkness thanking him for the mana bestowed upon humanity and asking that he continue to bless many generations to come. Black light flew into the air, along with a pillar into the ceiling, then rained a blessing over the graduates.

There were plenty of murmurings as the music began. This blessing was also new it seemed. The students sang and played instruments. Melchior felt transported. It was more people playing together than he’d ever heard before. They sounded happy to be there as well. The flutes and drums added such liveliness to the performance while the harspiels strummed a comforting accompaniment. The older boys' voices flooded the room powerfully while the girls floated a sweet melody over everything. He clapped enthusiastically when it was finished. Everyone else gave merely polite applause.

“It's the same song every year,” Charlotte whispered.

The sword dancers were next. Only twenty knights were selected out of all the students. At least six were from Dunkelfelger. Of the duchies ranked lower than 6th only two representatives were there between them. Melchior noticed one of Charlotte's knights in her ochre cape. With a sharp note from a flute the dancers summoned their swords with a loud chant. Then the music began. They spun and swung their swords in perfect arcs; each swing flowing beautifully into the next. Their blue outfits and billowing cloaks created an effect like water, at once placid and relentless. The audience was much more impressed by this performance.

It was finally time for the whirling. Only seven people ascended the stage this time. The sword dancers joined the singers and a small group of musicians stepped forward. The large bass harspiel would be accompanied by its normal sized brethren, a flute, and a large drum.

With a thud like a heartbeat, the music began. For such a small ensemble, they had more presence than all the students combined. On the stage the whirlers slowly knelt then began to chant. It was a prayer thanking the gods for preserving them through the tribulations, presumably of winter, with exaltations to their strengths. They finished with their wishes for a bountiful spring then began to dance.

At the beginning of the term, the selected whirlers had been very good. After so much practice they were all extraordinary. As promised, Wilfred performed his blessing whirl. There was none of the power and strength he spent so long nurturing. Instead he flickered nimbly like fire as blue and green light mingled. More accurately, green mana floated up and around him turning into blue sparkles as it entered a magic circle rising from the stage. Hannalore similarly produced green sparkles as she spun with the grace of storm. Melchior had never considered Flutrane to be a goddess to be intimidated by, but if Hannalore was possessed in a similar manner to Wilfred, she must be terrifying.

The rest of the colors were provided by Rozemyne. Her pale yellow mana split into a rainbow as it joined in lifting the circle up past their waists and above their heads. She was incredible. No one could take a breath as she offered her praise to the Goddess of Light. Wilfred said that Rozemyne loved whirling. Charlotte claimed she was divinely gifted. Seeing this, Melchior believed their words from the bottom of his heart. As he mourned the ending of the song, the whirlers struck the praying pose. Not a single person wavered despite standing up on the ball of the foot in addition to lifting their leg in the air.

A rainbow pillar of light spun and launched into the air with such force it seemed to break the circle. All the mana offered during the dance erupted into seven color sparkles. It rained over the audience and graduates alike. However, three additional blessings flew out in the colors of the most generous whirlers. They seemed to be directed specifically at those they held dear. Melchior watched from his green and yellow shower as Ferdinand was completely obscured by yellow sparkles tinged with the other two colors and Florencia enjoyed her own fountain of green with yellow highlights.

Ortwin smiled at his smattering of green sparkles while Hannalore looked smug about her superior allotment of yellow compared to Wilfred. Melchior was just happy to receive a blessing despite sitting between the powerful waterfalls gifted to Charlotte and Bonifiatus. The crowd was first stunned into silence then returned uproarious applause. The adults lifted their schtappes and returned blessings in every color. Melchior raised his ring and prayed to Geduldh for a blessing over his siblings.

Charlotte giggled as it rained over her. “Now I’ve the full complement,”she teased.

With a few final words of praise and congratulations, Zent Eglantine sent the graduates back out then released everyone to lunch. Melchior had to wait for his guard knights to come to his seat. Zipporah and Sigsnyr had awed looks in their eyes while Dedryck was managing to remain impassive. He walked with Lord Bonifiatus and listened to him wax poetic about how beautiful and amazing his granddaughter was.

“I was similarly amazed, Granduncle. It can only be that she was blessed by the gods,” Melchior agreed.

“And her whirling was perfect. So strong and elegant,” Bonifiatus continued.

“It is as you say, Granduncle.”

They continued all the way to the dormitory where Sylvester whipped around and ordered them to cease. “I sent the last fanatics to Alexandria. I won't harbor another double act. Leisegang has no wheat for babblers⁵⁴!”

They took a break to compliment Wilfred as he raced upstairs to change.

“I’ve never seen you move so gracefully,” Bonifiatus said.

“I didn't look strong or imposing?” Wilfred asked.

They shook their heads.

“Dear brother, we agreed not to speak of it but when you whirl to give blessings, it can only be described as exceedingly lovely,” Charlotte admitted. Melchior glanced away from Wilfred's shocked face.

“You agreed not to speak of it!” he cried.

He was hurried to his room before he could complain further while everyone else moved to the dining room. Those who wished to share in their amazement were all seated together away from the Archductal couple. Melchior, Bonifiatus, and Charlotte spent their break discussing the beauty and majesty of the ceremony with Elvira and friends. Bertilde served as her attendant just to hear about the event.

After a delightful lunch, everyone hurried back to the auditorium. Wilfred had changed into his ornate green tunic and was still horrified by his siblings treachery. Melchior escorted Charlotte again as they shared predictions for what Rozemyne would wear. It would be blue, of course, but Melchior wondered how that would look next to the orange-red capes.

“Graduates do not wear capes. Didn't you notice that Wilfred is without?” Charlotte explained. Melchior had to look again. He’d missed Wilfred's lack of a proper cape because of an ochre tail of fabric positioned over his shoulder. This changed his predictions considerably.

It was beyond his wildest dreams. Only the very top of Rozemyne's dress was Leidenschaft blue. The color transitioned to as dark as her hair toward the hem which fell over her shoes and trailed a bit behind. Dyed into the fabric was a pattern of yellow and gold flames. The front was dominated by a stiff wide collar which stood up below her nape then wrapped around to cross at her decolletage. It was fitted with very generous sleeves and a wide belt knotted into an impossible configuration. Her engagement faestone seemed to float as it hung on another impossibly thin chain.

Ferdinand had also changed. He wore an outfit that was entirely dark blue, like the bottom of Rozemyne's dress, except for a triangular panel at the chest which was metallic gold that didn't seem to be made of metal yet was different from embroidery or dyed material. There was no band or tape securing his cape, instead one made from the gossamer fabric for which Ahrensbach had once been famous was attached at his shoulders with golden baubles. From these hung chains with Leidenschaft blue flowers. Whenever the fabric touched Rozemyne, it flashed glowing magic circles.

Neither person had changed their hair so the golden panel reflected warm light into his face, softening its harsh planes into something more gentle. Melchior was amazed. He took in all the little details and filed them away for his own wardrobe once he recovered from his delight. He also took note of the other men and boys escorting in their finery. Formal wear seemed to afford many more options. The clothing of the laynobles could even be repurposed for an archnoble's tea party outfit.

This time, the graduates didn't take seats immediately. The first section lined up at the stairs to the stage. Once the last students took their seats, the royal scholar who presented the honors the day before began calling names. Each graduate's full name was read out while they climbed the stage. Then, they produced their schtappe and blessed their escort. While they gave their blessing, their friends and family could send them blessings as well. If both people in a couple were graduating then their names were called one after the other. It seemed like Aubs were expected to bless every student of their duchy together with their first spouses. Melchior felt sorry for the duchies with many students graduating but the leaders of the greater duchies seemed to have mana to spare. He didn't see a single one drink a potion.

This process was very long. Few people had names as long as Rozemyne's but they were still complex. Once he’d blessed his brother and sister, Melchior settled into his chair for a long wait. His formal outfit didn't allow for his potion belt and therefore didn't allow for any spare paper or a diptych. He had to sit up straight and looked interested but allowed his mind and eyes to wander.

The auditorium was full of people and lined with knights. The royal family sat at the front facing the rest of the audience. Anastasius was doing a poor job of hiding his boredom while Hildebrand was trying not to look terribly sad. Melchior didn't know what would make someone depressed on such a happy occasion but it hung over the prince like a thick fog. His attention was brought back at the sound of Philine's name. She walked forward on Damuel’s arm and presented her wand. There were many blessings but Melchior couldn't identify her parents in the crowd.

After the last laynoble proved they had the right to be called a noble, the Zent ascended the stage for a final address. She welcomed the new nobles and wished them many fruitful years. With this done, the royal family and her contingent of armored blues exited and the audience was free to mingle.

Melchior followed Bonifiatus as he parted the sea of people. Their knights circled around to meet them when they reached the group surrounding the Archduchess of Alexandria and her fiance.

“Rozemyne!” Bonifiatus bellowed with tears threatening his eyes. “Congratulations!” He lifted her carefully and tossed her into the air very gently.

“Grandfather!” she cried. Ferdinand swiftly separated them then charged Bonifiatus to control himself. Lady Elvira and Lord Karstedt also took advantage of the rampaging grandpa to arrive unimpeded and began giving their congratulations as well. “Mother, Father. It's good to see you,” Rozemyne said.

At this moment Melchior realized he’d allowed himself to be swept along by excitement to the wrong place. His own family and graduating older brother were lost in a rainbow sea. His knights were struggling just to get near enough to do their jobs. Melchior shuffled closer to Ferdinand.

“And you look so lovely,” he caught Elvira saying.

“Thank you. Oh it was a dress in two parts so I can still wear the underlayer. Isn't that nifty,” Rozemyne babbled.

While the happy family shared in their delight and praise, Melchior and Ferdinand stood beside quietly. His uncle seemed to be trying to avoid being drawn in by Elvira by smiling without speaking too much.

Melchior looked up at him with a bit of awe. He’d changed so little, but that was all it took to make him hard to look away from. “I think you look pretty as well, Uncle.” Melchior said.

Ferdinand fixed him with a surprised frown.

“Men generally prefer to be called handsome,” Karstedt said as he turned away from the true fanatics.

“That word is not strong enough,” Melchior said with a shake of his head.

“What are you saying?” Ferdinand sighed.

Melchior’s knights and family finally made their way over. The crowd was carefully pushed back by their collection of guards.

“Congratulations, Wilfred,” Melchior said.

“Why are you over here?” he asked, looking from Melchior to Ferdinand and back. Their uncle pushed his little hanger-on toward his brother.

“I was swept along in Granduncle’s wake,” Melchior explained. He stood by quietly while Sylvester gave congratulations to his adoptive daughter and she traded congratulations with Wilfred.

Wilfred blushed as he gathered his courage. “I can honestly say that I would not be here were it not for your kindness and assistance. Thank you, Rozemyne,” he said with a bow. He didn't kneel and take her hand but his sincerity was clear in his voice

“It is also due to your hard work and unwillingness to give up. You have earned your place among the nobles of Yurgenschmidt,” she replied. They shared warm smiles and talked about their shared adventures. Ferdinand's teaching methods were decried and deified in turn while he noted that his pupils all achieved incredible grades and accomplished much. Elvira listened with great interest to their retelling of their calamitous betrothal.

Melchior caught himself staring at his uncle more than a few times. At first he thought himself distracted by the golden cuff in his hair. Melchior wouldn't call it jealousy but he did want one of his own. It became clear eventually that he just liked looking at Ferdinand's face. He heard Gentaine's voice in the back of his head. He likely would be easy to draw. Perhaps he could convince his uncle to sit for a portrait at some point.

A Fellowship of Music

After much congradulations and heartfelt goodbyes, everyone returned to their dorms for dinner or feasts. The younger Ehrenfest students were served at fifth and a half bell then hurried out of the dining hall. There would be a feast for the graduates and their guardians including wine and music. Flautzeal was sadly not allowed to attend as a musician so Melchior had no means to learn what happened. He withdrew with his retainer's and Veremund to the now warm training room where their research had been conducted. There was nothing to work on but they laid out furs and a blanket for Kolteruze and lazed about with less than the usual dignity.

Melchior covered an uncut parchment with doodles using his magic pen while listening to Sigsnyr describe to Isolde both the ceremony and the art society in exhaustive detail Flautzeal sat in the corner strumming his harspiel to the tune of the graduation song.

He paused mid bar with a start. “We still haven't heard the three of you play,” he cried.

“What do you mean, Flautzeal?” Theodore asked from atop his fuzzy prize.

“The ensemble piece. Its nearly the end of term and you’ve never played it all together,” Flautzeal explained.

Nikolaus tossed a wadded up ball of waste parchment with Pepin. “We have. For the Orphanage Recital,” he said.

“You debuted it for orphans?” Isolde huffed. “Before even the Archduke?”

“Quiet. We didn't tell him,” Melchior shushed. He paused his drawing to give a serious look. “He must never know,” he added.

His retainers nodded back with various levels of solemnity. Flautzeal came over and towered above his lord. “Would you like to practice now?”

Melchior blinked into his shadowed face. “We are relaxing. Why would we want to practice harspiel?”

Pepin and Zipporah joined the scholar in blocking his light. “My lord, didn't you miss practice yesterday. One must…”

“Yes, yes, I know. One must practice daily. I am content to lose a bit of progress,” he replied.

Isolde came over but looked at the drawings rather than joining the mob. “Are these all of Lord Ferdinand?” They were indeed. Covering every detail from his hair cuff to the embroidery on his hem and several renderings of his face from different angles and with different expressions, it looked a bit like Melchior was obsessed.

“I did not wish to forget the details. I want to incorporate some things into my own clothes,” he insisted. Now everyone came to look.

“I’ve only seen him from afar. Is he truly this handsome?” Isolde asked. Sigsnyr and Melchior nodded while Zipporah only blushed. “Then I understand your urge to capture the details,” she teased.

Flautzeal began walking around the parchment to take in all the drawings at weird angles. “You really have captured his expressions. He is known for being rather implacable but I see you've watched enough to catch moments of tenderness and genuine feeling. You must have spent a great deal of time observing.”

Melchior began rolling it up. “Stop, stop. Ok I’ll play the harspiel,” he cried as heat filled his cheeks. They were making it sound like he’d picked up a rafel. Kolteruze appeared with his and Nikolaus's instruments. Flautzeal offered Gerianne his. She tried to resist at first saying she would go get her own but he didn't want to wait for Melchior to change his mind.

They were positioned on stools and took a moment to tune the harps. They played a few scales together until they were satisfied then began. The three hadn't practiced anymore since the last time they played and also hadn't spent the previous bell cramming. They also weren't buoyed up by the festive mood of the orphanage so their playing was a bit flatter than before. Their friends listened happily and tapped their fingers to the upbeat melody. After they finished they received a small round of applause.

“Now you can all play. We have every size of harspiel here so there can be no excuses,” Melchior said in an authoritative tone. He perched on his stool like a little prince and gestured for Pepin to take his instrument.

Veremund tried to escape by noting he wasn't part of the retinue but Melchior countered that this was a celebration of their award winning research and saw him pressed into a chair with Nikolaus's harp.

His voice was deep and his playing perfectly acceptable for a fifth year. Most people could only play as well as could be expected. Isolde sang with honey sweetness while Zipporah lent her song tenderness. Sigsnyr was lively while Theodore strummed without enthusiasm. Pepin and Kolteruze happened to know two parts of a duet. It was a comical song with the performers taking the characters of Erwachlerhen and Verbergan arguing over whether to tell or keep a secret. Despite having never played together before they sounded surprisingly in sync.

Finally, Flautzeal sat on a stool. Everyone else packed together on the floor before him. Veremund seemed unsure but went along anyway. Flautzeal played three songs at his lord's instance. The other children listened in enraptured silence as he sang about the coming of spring and the beauty of summer rain. Midway through the third song, Sigsnyr and Zipporah jumped up with Theodore following a moment later. After another few seconds, Dedryck appeared at the door.

Not even the soothing music served to calm Melchior’s nervousness. “It is time for bed,” Dedryck announced.

Flautzeal finished his song while everyone picked up their things. Pepin forced Melchior to stand to the side while he rolled up the parchment and Kolteruze helped line up the stools along the wall.

Dedryck watched from the threshold and looked around with curiosity. “This was a training room right?” he asked.

“It is the smaller of the two. We attempted to maintain some of its original function but it proved to be unpleasant to be in,” Melchior explained.

“And all these skins were hunted by you all?” he asked.

“We had additional help,” Sigsnyr said.

Dedryck walked Melchior back to his room with Pepin. Zargerecht was already waiting with his bath. Once they were inside, Dedryck stood in the guards position by the door. Melchior paused in front of him. “I’m sorry, Dedryck.”

“We will talk about it when you return to Ehrenfest. For now, it is late,” he replied. Melchior nodded and went off to his bath. He analyzed the tone and inflection of Dedryck's response and tried to figure out how upset he was. This occupied his thoughts until Zargerecht declared him ready for bed.

It was Kolteruze’s turn that night. He brought his study materials as usual and situated himself at Melchior's desk. Melchior walked over with a chair. Once he was within a few steps Kolteruze got up and took it from him. He sat the chair down facing the one used at the desk then waited for Melchior to sit. Melchior gestured for him to sit back down. Kolteruze just looked at him quietly with confusion.

“I wished to speak with you,” Melchior began.

Kolteruze took on a solemn attitude. “Yes, my lord?”

“It is nothing serious. Pepin and I often use this time to discuss things privately,” he explained. “Is there anything you would like to say?”

Kolteruze held his gaze for a few moments then fell into thought. There were plenty of things he could say but after the last few weeks, he was less sure about his complaints. Melchior tried to accommodate his insomnia and aversion to animal products. All in all, serving this lord was turning out to be even more pleasant that serving his family had been.

Melchior spent half his time at the temple and hosted exactly one event once every three weeks. The rest of his time was spent studying or drawing. It was decided that his apprentices just wouldn't get enough training if they stayed at the castle so they were trained elsewhere. For Kolteruze, that meant remaining in Leisegang for a couple extra years and serving the giebe and his older brothers.

Melchior didn't try to rush him even as the silence lingered. He observed Kolteruze’s face and glanced at his papers. They seemed to be notes on the attendants course written in a feminine hand. He’d also brought a light producing magic tool. Unlike Sigsnyr’s, it didn't require a candle but that meant it likely used more mana.

“I cannot think of anything that would need to be said privately,” Kolteruze said eventually.

Melchior wasn't sure whether this was a polite dismissal or just a statement of fact. “Are you studying for next year?” Melchior asked. He didn't want to give up trying to get to know Kolteruze just yet.

“This is sixth year work. I’ve been studying on a schedule hoping to finish all the material.”

“The schedule forces you to study two years in advance?” Melchior asked. It sounded grueling.

Kolteruze chuckled. “No, my cousin isn’t that strict. I could stop at each year and begin again after a break but I found it easier to just keep going. Now I'm almost done with the core classes.”

“Do you want to take any specialty classes?”

“No. I’m content to do the basic course. Unless you order otherwise,” he replied.

“Truly? You need not rush if you don't want to. You like plants. What about herbology?”

“Herbology is about using plants as weapons, not plant husbandry.”

“It is?” Melchior asked. He felt certain it was about medicine.

“The difference between poison and medicine is how much you ingest,” Kolteruze said as though having heard his thoughts.

Melchior considered this for a while. Kolteruze, realizing this wasn't a serious or important conversation, turned back to the desk to begin studying. “If there is something you'd like to take. Please do not defer on my account,” Melchior said after a time.

“Thank you, my lord. I will consider it,” Kolteruze answered without looking up. “Please leave the chair. I will move it later,” he added as Melchior stood up.

He watched Kolteruze read for another moment before returning to the sleeping portion of the room. After considering how he and Pepin became friends, Melchior wondered whether Kolteruze just preferred a professional relationship or otherwise didn't want to be his friend. It wasn't something he could know after one conversation. Still, it was enough to distract him from thoughts about Dedryck.

Footnotes

54. If you want lunch, shut up^{^}

Chapter Text

A Game with Dunkelfelger

The ditter bells wouldn't ring until the afternoon so Melchior had time to live a mostly normal day. The Archduke had breakfast in his room with Lord Bonifiatus so the students ate in their normal places. The younger scholars and attendants were beginning to go home. Unlike arrivals, which were handed down by the Archduke's office, exits only needed to be planned with the dormitory supervisor. She would coordinate with the castle to establish a calendar, then accept requests. In years prior, this had to be done entirely by the castle so the scholars were rejoicing over having a competent supervisor.

Wilfred slowly lowered himself into his chair. He looked ill. His attendants buzzed around him but it seemed there was nothing they could do. Melchior sent Zargerecht to quietly inquire.

“He imbibed Vantole’s gifts⁵⁵ for the first time. Indulgence leads to illness the following day. Be certain to remember this when you are older,” Zargerecht whispered.

Melchior was less than happy with the implication that this was simply the repercussions of his actions and nothing could be done. He rose and walked over.

“Dear brother, would you like me to grant healing?” he whispered.

“Would that even work?” Wilfred grumbled.

Melchior took this as plenty of permission, he reached out and asked Heilshmertz for her assistance. After a bit of green light Wilfred only sighed. “I did have a small bruise that feels like its gone,” he muttered. Melchior changed his patron to Flutrane. Perhaps her way of healing would be effective. The light was much brighter this time and Wilfred readjusted himself. “I think that worked. Thanks, Melchior,” he said with a smile. “ You should offer Father your assistance too,” he whispered.

Zargerecht sent an ordonnanz with an offer to do just that. It returned with Bonifiatus's voice replying that the men could hold their liquor better than fresh whelps and they didn't need such assistance with Sylvester groaning in the background for him to be quiet. Melchior decided to let them be.

He spent his morning doing the training he’d missed and transferring the notes from his diptych onto paper. Sigsnyr seemed to struggle with using the unfamiliar medium. His notes began as full sentences then devolved into key words. Melchior missed Flautzeal's ability to fit lots of information into tiny spaces. He considered learning the method. At the bottom was a hand he didn't recognize that only wrote: “I look forward to your findings.” The thought that some strange entity managed to sneak into his diptych troubled him until he remembered that he’d handed his tablet to the first wife of Hauchletze. Then he was scared for entirely different reasons.

Kolteruze delivered Letizia’s diptych in the middle of music practice. It was lovingly wrapped in black fabric which meant the Zent had enjoyed it.

“Where is the painting?” Melchior asked with mounting panic. What if someone of sufficient status stopped Kolteruze in the halls and demanded to see it?

It was much worse. “Lady Florencia ordered that it be sent back to Ehrenfest when it arrived. Professor Ottilie only had this to give me,” Kolteruze replied.

“Please tell me this is a jest and Pepin is behind you with the painting wrapped in some cloth that means the Zent hated it and wants it burned but is allowing us one last look.” Kolteruze began shaking his head at the word jest and continued while Melchior spiraled deeper and deeper into panic. “But why!” he cried.

“I do not know. Perhaps she anticipated you stowing it in your hidden room until you’ve seen every corner of the wall,” Kolteruze suggested with a smirk.

Melchior asked Zargerecht if he thought sending a request that she did not view or show it would work. “I do not,” the attendant replied casually. He was slightly annoyed at not having a chance to see it before it was spirited away.

This news was exciting to exactly one person. Isolde was almost cackling at the implications while they made their way to the stadium. She was also amused by the note left in his diptych. Isolde was so happy in fact, that she began theorizing other ways to try the paint. Zargerecht looked a bit pale. Other duchies had already found out about his lord's flight of fancy. Melchior would rightly feel obligated to waste more precious gold dust on this venture. He was terrified to imagine how expensive it was going to get.

The stadium was smaller than the one used for the Interduchy Tournament. The stands were a combination of flat and sloped with small terraces and large steps. It also looked older somehow. Ivory buildings were very good at hiding their age so Melchior couldn't rightly say what gave him that impression.

He’d also learned from the graduation ceremony and brought plenty of parchment for doodling. The discovery of mana remover had opened the gates to his previous spendthrift habits around paper use. He would have to be ruthless toward his purely mediocre and kind of ok works but he was free to draw at his preferred scale. This was carried by Pepin as Kolteruze had requested not to attend. “Treasure Stealing ditter is hard to watch,” he admitted. Not even Zargerecht argued against this logic so Melchior's head apprentice attendant stayed in the dormitory packing for the return to Ehrenfest.

As a participating duchy, they were there a bit early which lulled Melchior into the false sense that not many people were coming. Dunkelfelger capes were all over setting out picnics and chatting. There were a few people from other duchies and a cordoned off area surrounded by black cloaks. Rozemyne and Ferdinand said they were coming as well while Letizia planned to stay home.

Melchior stood around with his father and granduncle. Both Charlotte and Wilfred were participating it seemed. He was freer to move around than he’d anticipated as Theodore wasn't a part of the formation. Melchior wouldn't have called Theodore one of the weaker knights but apparently his skills weren't as useful in this context.

“Judith’s aim really is more valuable but I don't have the patience to throw thousands of things at the wall,” Theodore said. He seemed only mildly disappointed but was happy to have a good view.

While Melchior's vision was obscured by taller people, the stadium filled. He was kind of aware of this as the sound of people chatting grew louder and louder. Pepin was pulled away by a whisper from another attendant then returned with Leibshitze in tow.

“Lord Leibshitze of Dunkelfelger would like to speak with you,” he announced.

“Hello!” Melchior said brightly. He was happy to have another chance to see his friend. “You’ve come to watch. Are you sure you should be in the enemy camp?” Melchior teased.

“We could never be called enemies just because we are opponents in ditter,” Leibshitze declared. “I met Aub Ehrenfest. Your father is very scary,” he added in a whisper.

Melchior glanced over to where Sylvester was working hard not to look hungover while Bonifiatus yelled near his headache. “Surely not,” Melchior replied.

Leibshitze nodded. “But you sisters were very kind and very pretty.”

“They are,” he agreed. They chatted about the tournament for a little while until Rozemyne and Ferdinand swept in amidst fiery cloaks. “Oh look, lets go say hello,” Melchior said and led an excited Leibshitze by the hand.

They were talking to Sylvester and teasing him for overdoing it. Ferdinand cast Flutrane's healing after a passionate entreaty from his brother.

“Will you sit with us Sylvester?” Rozemyne asked.

“Aren't you sitting with Dunkelfelger again? I can't look like I'm supporting the enemy,” he replied.

“It is more central this year,” Ferdinand said and pointed to a place Melchior couldn't see.

“They are not our enemies, father. Only our competitors,” Melchior argued in a small voice. The men generally ignored him but Rozemyne caught his words.

“Oh, Melchior, hello. You are going to watch too?” Rozemyne greeted.

“Yes, I couldn't miss our victory,” Melchior said shyly.

“You will be disappointed,” Leibshitze said.

“Hello again. I see you were able to find your friend,” Rozemyne said. It was clear she’d already forgotten his name.

“This is Lord Leibshitze. We met during Prayers and Rituals,” Melchior introduced him again and stopped Leibshitze from kneeling in greeting.

“The new class. How did you like it?” They shared their experiences. Leibshitze was surprised to hear that Melchior had been upset to be made the center of attention while Melchior was fascinated by the struggles of those uninitiated in the ways of rituals. Rozemyne confirmed that healing was hard for most people but possible with focus and practice.

“Ditter shall soon commence!” Professor Rauffen announced using many sound amplifying magic tools, his voice filled with naked enthusiasm.

“We must take our seats,” Rozemyne said and began needling Sylvester again.

“I must sit with my family, Lord Leibshitze. Perhaps we can speak after the match,” Melchior said and watched Leibshitze’s face fall.

“I understand. Is it alright for me to stay in this section?”

“I suppose so. You should sit with someone you know to avoid any trouble. Stay with Flautzeal,” Melchior suggested. The scholars didn't have to follow Melchior around and Flautzeal was likely to be more stationary than Isolde.

“I can sit with your scholars?” Leibshitze asked with eyes full of hope. That's what Melchior was sure he'd just said but he reaffirmed his permission. “Oh thank you, my lord,” Leibshitze said and flew to Flautzeal’s side. Melchior watched with slight confusion as his peer explained the situation to the older boy. He remembered telling Leibshitze that he didn't need to call Melchior ‘my lord’. For one, Melchior was not his lord. Additionally, they were friends and could be more casual. Flautzeal looked dubious but didn't shoo Leibshitze away or ask for confirmation.

“Take Melchior if you need a yellow cape so badly,” Sylvester sighed. “Dunkelfelger is a pain to deal with every time I get involved with them.”

“I try to warn you all,” Ferdinand sighed.

“Did you hear that Melchior, you get to sit with me and Lady Hannalore,” Rozemyne said happily.

“Hurray!” Melchior cheered and allowed himself to be dragged along by his sister.

The more central seating turned out to be on almost the other side of the stadium. It was opposite the royal box which sat between the sea of blue and pond of ochre like a retaining wall. Now that he'd escaped the shadows of his taller family he could see the incredible turn out. It looked like every duchy sent someone. Many Aubs sat at tables with picnics in the midst of their respective color. He could see the wine dark hair of Gilessenmeyer's women and the vibrant teal of Drewanchel. Kostenlos and Immerdink looked cozy situated right next to one another but he knew from conversations that they were in fierce competition.

Rozemyne’s box was a rainbow of cloaks. In full plate, Hannalore stood beside Lestilaut who looked like he didn't want to be here despite the obvious excitement shining in his eyes. Wilfred and Charlotte were also standing around in their matching golden armor.

Are you joining the fight this year, Lady Hannalore. And Charlotte you look very fierce.” Rozemyne said as they approached. Charlotte towered amidst her knights. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail composed of several braids.

“I’m glad we are on the same side,” Melchior added.

“We shall always be on the same side,” Charlotte encouraged with a smiled.

“Ditterers! Assemble!” Rauffen called.

“That is our cue,” Hannalore said and began putting on her helmet. “Would you do us the honor of blessing the troops, Aub Alexandria?” Hannalore asked.

“Hey, she's our sister. If she's going to bless anyone its us,” Wilfred countered.

“If you whirl together she could bless everyone,” Melchior suggested.

“Oh yes. How exciting would that be?” Rozemyne agreed.

“That would require a great deal of mana,” Ferdinand warned.

“It would reduce the chance of me over blessing them,” Rozemyne argued.

“How about it Wilfred?” Hannalore asked. Her smirk was slightly obscured by her face guard.

“We would be delighted to perform the ritual with you,” Charlotte replied before he could.

“Wonderful. So long as we're clear that I won't be whirling,” Rozemyne declared.

They flew off before Melchior could express his deep sadness that he wasn't going to witness Rozemyne whirl with a spear. He made his way back to the seats. Isolde was sitting in a set of chairs behind the ones meant for the Archduke Candidates with a mirror expression of delight to Justus who sat near to her. Between them was Philine which seemed to indicate that Melchior should sit next to Lestilaut. The alternative was sitting beside Ferdinand. Both people had recently tricked him but Lestilaut lacked the years of accumulated goodwill Ferdinand had. He might be a tad intimidating but at least Melchior knew him well enough.

Ferdinand gave him an unreadable look as they sat down which Melchior chose to ignore. He took his papers from Isolde and looked around for something to draw while waiting for the ritual to begin.

Dunkelfelger and Ehrenfest lined up on either side of Rozemyne who stood between two guard knights. Dunkelfelger was fielding all knights from the looks of things while Ehrenfest had a couple of attendants and a few scholars. They wore half plate instead of full suits and waited to the side rather than join the dance. Wilfred and Hannalore took places in the middle of their formations.

“Grant power to those of us going into battle,” Rozemyne bellowed. With a sound amplifier it reverberated off the stadium walls. A wave of excitement rolled through Dunkelfelger’s stands just from this. “Grant us Angriff's mighty power which is second to none,” the combatants chanted in unison. They stamped their spears and whirled in perfect sync. Melchior thought it a shame they would be fighting on opposite sides. “Fight!” Rozemyne cried and lifted her spear just like in the painting. This time she looked happy rather than serious. Melchior was glad once again that everything had more or less worked out.

He glanced at Ferdinand, hoping to find someone to share in his excitement, but his face was obscured by his hair. “You changed your hair back,” he muttered.

“Yes. This hides my face more effectively,” Ferdinand muttered back.

“So its on purpose?”

“Yes. You might consider it as you are very free with your emotions,” he replied without looking at his nephew.

Melchior contained his desire to pout and began drawing Rozemyne and her spear with Wilfred and Hannalore in the background.

Rozemyne returned and gave him a similar look to her fiance which he was able to decern was mild surprise. She glanced at Lestilaut who looked sheepish, of all things, and made no comment. Since it would be quite rude to verbally ask Melchior to move, he chose to ignore her silent suggestion. She was friends with Lestilaut and better able to deflect his trickery. It was a small thing to ask his elder sibling to protect him, he thought.

Once she took her seat, attendants brought tea and snacks. They were served roasted nuts next to a decorative pile of their shells and small sausages in miniature fluffy bread rolls. Melchior thought these were a strange choice but he didn't hesitate once the poison test was out of the way.

“You insist these are traditional foods meant to be enjoyed during events of sport but I still do not see the appeal,” Ferdinand grumbled as he lifted nuts to his mouth with a spoon. Melchior had been copying Rozemyne and daintily using his fingers. He glanced back and forth between them, wondering who was correct.

“That is because you hate fun. I still think it would be easy to create a magic tool for cotton candy,” she replied.

“You cannot weave sugar into fabric, why would you spin it into thread?”

“Because it is fun.”

They continued to argue the merits of fluffy sugar. It was such a fantastical conversation, he didn't know whether they were being serious or speaking in code.

The ditter bell rang and his attention was drawn to the field of battle. Groups split off and raced out of the stadium. He recognized Sigsnyr's horse leading the group from Ehrenfest.

“Where are they going?” Melchior asked.

Rozemyne paused her conversation to explain the rules. “In treasure stealing ditter the treasure is a captured faebeast. You have a limited amount of time to bring it back and secure it in your territory. Who ever kills or captures their enemies faebeast first, wins.”

It sounded simple enough. “It seems like it would be much harder to capture it,” Melchior observed.

“Indeed, almost no one ever does,” Ferdinand explained.

Justus leaned forward and whispered, “Lord Ferdinand once captured a beast from Lindenthal just because they claimed it was impossible.”

“Really?!” Melchior asked. He looked up at his uncle with curious eyes. “You must be very skilled at treasure stealing ditter.”

Rozemyne cackled and even Lestilaut fixed him with a surprised face. “They call him the Lord of Evil, like the Lord of Winter, because he is so good,” Rozemyne said.

“I think I’ve heard that before. Do you still play ditter? Both of you seem to enjoy it so much,” Melchior asked. It would be sad if they had to stop after graduation or only fight in life or death battles.

“I do not enjoy ditter,” they said in unison. Rozemyne looked just as surprised as Melchior.

“But you’ve played so much. I thought you liked to use it to test your magic tools,” she pressed.

“It was compulsory like speed ditter is now. There are plenty of other ways to test magic tools,” he replied with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Then why did you accept so many challenges from Heisshitze?”

“Beating Heisshitze at ditter is quite lucrative.”

A loud clash erupted on the field. Both sides sent raiding groups to attempt to destroy crates stationed near each side's circle. “The treasures aren't back yet,” Melchior cried.

“Ditter begins when the bell rings. You can engage immediately if you like,” Lestilaut said. “Not that it will help Ehrenfest.”

Charlotte summoned Schutzaria's shield bubble over Ehrenfest’s crates while Dunkelfelger used their Getielt shields to protect from a rain of magic tools. Both sides were successful in protecting their supplies but some of the Dunkelfelger knights seemed injured by the attack. They were swiftly healed or drank potions.

In the air, the raiding parties collided on their way back. Swords clashed and glares ripped through the sky with explosive booms. Melchior suddenly understood Kolteruze's distaste. He had to look away as a knight was flung from his highbeast and only barely rescued by an ally.

“You do not need to watch if it is too much,” Rozemyne said with a gentle pat on his hand.

“He is training to be a knight. He will see many worse things,” Ferdinand argued.

“There will be time for that,” Rozemyne insisted and smiled at her brother. She looked at his papers and tried to distract him. “Look at this. Is this me?”

It was very obviously her but Melchior was happy to take the excuse. “Yes. I also drew Wilfred and Hannalore,” he pointed them out. They were depicted without helmets but their actual positions during the dance made the angle impossible already. Melchior thought it was better to achieve the feeling rather than try for perfect accuracy.

“It is quite good,” she picked it up. “Is this parchment?” she asked in surprise.

“It's the superior drawing medium,” Lestilaut quipped.

“I’m using it because I can erase my sketches later and reuse the paper,” Melchior explained.

Rozemyne looked sad. “You plan to erase this! But it is so good.”

“I may keep it but if I’m not ruthless it will be even more expensive than using Ehrenfest paper,” Melchior replied. He was also sad about the prospect but destroying a few sketches was better than wasting the hard earned tax dollars of Ehrenfest’s citizens.

“Is this parchment enchanted?”

“Rozemyne?” Ferdinand called.

She waved him off and accepted a piece of paper from Philine. “Only enough to make a magic letter,” Melchior replied curiously.

“That is enough, he he.” She chanted a spell and tapped the picture. A yellow film formed over the top which she picked up with a pinch and moved over to her own sheet of paper. “It is good you were drawing with mana,” she noted before tapping her paper. An exact copy of his sketch appeared. Melchior was stunned into silence. Lestilaut was stunned into silence. Ferdinand rubbed his temples. “With this spell you can copy your favorite pieces to lightly enchanted paper then wash your parchment.”

“It requires a lot of mana, both surfaces must be enchanted, and the ink must be enchanted. If you are hoping to use it to save resources, you should reconsider,” Ferdinand added. He was ignored.

“Its amazing. I would like to learn it,” Melchior said. He looked back and forth between the identical drawings and imagined the possibilities.

Lestilaut also leaned in and looked at them. “This spell makes exact copies?” he asked.

“Yes you can change the size but it's rather finicky,” Rozemyne replied. Both artists regarded her with hungry eyes. They spent a few minutes repeating her words over and over and trying to copy small doodles. Melchior managed before Lestilaut which made the already grouchy man even grouchier. His determination didn't sway and eventually he made his own copy of Melchior's rendering of the ritual.

“Wait, that's not meant to be shared,” Melchior squeaked and tried to stop them from taking their copies.

“Oh but it is in my mana and on my paper,” Lestilaut said with a smirk. Rozemyne slipped hers to her scholar before Melchior could consider just grabbing it.

“You could easily have anticipated this outcome,” Ferdinand chided.

“How would you feel if it were your picture?” Melchior grumbled.

“I wouldn't allow it to be stolen in the first place.”

“Would you retrieve it for me if it were your portrait?” Melchior asked.

Ferdinand considered this for a moment. “No. I would have confiscated it long before this moment. If you do not want your art taken, do not let others use magic to copy it. Simply use normal ink,” he advised. “They're are spells to remove that as well.” Melchior considered this counsel. Regular ink would be impossible to transfer bringing him right back to his initial problem.

“Then he could not use his beautiful pen. It is so lovely, wouldn't that be a shame,” Rozemyne said. Ferdinand tensed. His expression didn't change so Melchior only noticed because they were sitting so close.

He leaned back in his chair and put on a tone similar to his uncle interrogating people for the pleasure of hearing answers to questions he already knew. “You speak as though you do not know where this pen is from. As though you yourself did not brew it,” Melchior said.

Rozemyne tipped her head. “Of course I’ve never seen it before. Was it not given to you by your parents for school?”

“It was included among your generous gifts,” Melchior said with a sidelong glance at Ferdinand. His uncle merely sipped his tea implacably.

“Among my gifts? I… ooh.” She joined him in staring at Ferdinand pretend not to hear their conversation.

“You said you hadn't added anything,” Melchior challenged.

“Did I?” Ferdinand said.

Melchior turned to Rosemyne and whispered the list of gifts he’d received. Both the pen and potions were from his uncle. “I knew it,” Melchior mumbled. “Thank you, Uncle, for your generosity. I will endeavor to repay your kindness.”

“There is no need. As you know, I avoided signing for the gifts to avoid being drawn into another never ending cycle of increasingly extravagant presents,” Ferdinand replied and finally looked down at his nephew. “You need not dedicate the rest of your life to repayment either.”

“It is not fair to use words I didn't know I was speaking to the person in question,” Melchior said. He was feeling bold so he gave his uncle a sharp little glare.

“You need not worry about others using your words if you consider them well enough before speaking,” Ferdinand said.

“I am told that quite frequently.” They continued to hold dueling smiles until a very loud boom erupted from the field.

Rozemyne sucked in a sharp breath. A large portion of Ehrenfest knights were blown away by a huge attack. Wilfred was fighting amidst a small bundle of knights against Hannalore in a pitched battle. The smaller group of Ehrenfest fighters were managing to hold off her forces but that left their own side without support.

Students were strewn everywhere. Ehrenfest attendants tried to retrieve their injured peers only to be forced back by Dunkelfelger knights. Dunkelfelger only seemed better off, but there were several students too injured to continue huddled to the edge of the field under their shields, trying to recover while Ehrenfest bombarded them with rains of arrows and magic tools.

There were blinding flashes of light and clouds of irritating dust. Melchior had assumed that the cries and yells were from the crowd but the fighters were making most of the screams. There were orders yelled and cries for help and screams of pain. So much noise from clashing weapons forced its way into Melchior's ears. He was horrified. “Is so awful,” he whimpered.

“It is war. War is always awful,” Ferdinand muttered. It was hard to see his face through his hair but Melchior could detect a distant look in his eyes. His uncle could generally smile through anything but whatever he was remembering was plainly very painful.

Melchior reached out and patted his hand. “You do not have to watch if it is too much,” he whispered.

“I know,” Ferdinand replied. He looked down at Melchior with a different unreadable expression.

There was a shriek. Despite having never heard this particular sound, Melchior knew exactly who it was. The reddish bubble had ruptured. The supplies were exposed but more importantly, Charlotte was without protection. She'd been mostly surrounded by scholars and attendants. They formed shields but were easy to toss aside for trained archknights. Bands of light captured the Ehrenfest students until only Charlotte remained.

With one hand she held up her shield and with the other she drank a potion. She scowled at the taste and threw the vial at one of the attacking knights. “Charlotte!” Melchior yelled in spite of himself. Ferdinand placed a hand on his shoulder and coaxed him back into his seat.

There were not many forces left on either side. Wilfred was the only knight of his party remaining and valiantly held off three people. He was losing ground but only very slowly. The problem was that he was alone. Every Ehrenfest knight still standing had to face at least two Dunkelfelgerians. They simply had more knights. Melchior nearly cried out again as a boy who was obviously Sigsnyr was knocked to the ground, his helmet flying from his head. Without him to protect it, the exhausted blue cape could make his way toward Ehrenfest’s treasure where it lay, completely unaffected by the carnage around it.

Charlotte had to make a choice, she could abandon her fellow students to try to protect the treasure in a three on one battle or stand her ground and wait for defeat. She made a calculation. The supplies and their keepers wouldn't be harmed if she left but the treasure was sure to fall. She took off at a sprint and leaped onto her highbeast, only barely dodging attacks and bands of light. It wasn't a long flight but there were obstacles.

The lone blue at the Ehrenfest base saw her flying ahead of his two allies and turned to stop her. One of the pursuers took this opportunity to fly around and attack the base. Several of Charlotte's charms activated as she was pummeled from two sides. She summoned a spear and managed to incapacitate the weaker of her opponents. The other would not be so easy to cow.

She cried out. Perhaps she meant for him to fall back and defend the treasure but Wilfred saw his little sister in trouble and went to save her. Even though this left Hannalore free to attack and the treasure vulnerable, he shot at high speed and crashed into the side of the knight preparing to bring his sword down. They weren't very far from the treasure even if they were too far to defend. Wilfred threw up his shield to block the shock wave while Charlotte threw up her cape.

With a deafening boom, it was over.

“He chose his sister over the treasure,” Lestilaut scoffed. While the crowd cheered and clapped.

“You wouldn't protect Lady Hannalore?” Melchior asked.

“She could protect herself. Losing our foundation would mean her death anyway,” he replied.

Melchior shivered at his coldness. The ditter bell rang to mark the end. Both Melchior and Rozemyne jumped from their seats. Melchior made it two steps before Gerianne grabbed him. “What are you doing?”

“They need healing,” he cried. Sigsnyr still hadn't moved and many other students seemed to be unconscious.

“I will heal them,” Rozemyne called over her shoulder. Ferdinand appeared beside her and helped her onto his highbeast. They summoned the Staff of Flutrane as they took to the skies. Melchior continued to shiver as a circle the size of the arena formed above Rozemyne as she chanted. Green light fell over the combatants and a few of the spectators. There were groans as serious injuries knitted themselves back together. The bound students tried to wiggle free of their bonds with limited success.

The stands responded with awe and more cheering. Adults from Dunkelfelger descended and killed their treasure animal. It was supposed to be a celebration but Melchior only felt sick. This didn't feel like a game or a sport. It was awful. “You must smile, my lord,” Pepin whispered. His stomach twisted and he felt like throwing up the little sausages but he plastered a noble smile on all the same.

With the spectacle of healing complete, the Alexandrian couple returned. “Perhaps you'd like to perform the closing ritual, Lord Lestilaut,” Ferdinand said with a smile.

“That is generally done by women,” Lestilaut replied.

“Are you unable?” Rozemyne asked. The only people Melchior knew could perform the ritual had either just finished a grueling battle or already conducted two large blessings within the last bell.

“Of course not,” Lestilaut scoffed. “Since everyone else is indisposed,” he grumbled and made to mount his highbeast.

“We thank you ever so much,” Rozemyne said with a cheeky grin. Melchior felt sure she could do the ritual but Lestilaut's comment made her unwilling.

With the sound of thunderous crashing, the violent tableaux was brought to a close.

A Selection of Interludes

Closer to Her Heart- A Royal Interlude

The royal family was not invited to the victory banquet following the ditter match so Prince Hildebrand was free to mope alone in his villa. The extra time was not appreciated. He would have many months to spend with just his retainers and occasional visits from his family. Thinking about all the students returning to their homes with easy access to their parents always made him cross. It was doubly bad this year because some of his favorites wouldn't be coming back.

He was also just in a bad mood in general. The royal box gave him a great view of Aub Alexandria and her god of darkness laughing and teasing their nephew. That Lord Lestilaut looked wholly unappreciative of the gift he’d been given to sit beside Rozemyne made Hildebrand consider some ungentlemanly things. He knew his cousin well enough to know Lestilaut was hiding his true feelings but he chose to ignore this. He needed someone to direct his displeasure at.

Hildebrand couldn't dislike Melchior, his only friend. Nor could he properly despise Ferdinand. The man was a perfect fit for Rozemyne; intelligent, crafty, and beautiful. Hildebrand couldn't get the vision of them walking arm in arm in their matching outfits out of his head. Just the memory of Ferdinand’s gentle smile gave him shivers like remembering Rozemyne touching his hand to transfer the archive key. There was no good explanation for it. He was only in love with Rozemyne. It did not make sense that the idea of being their second husband was beginning to eclipse the imagined joy of having Aub Alexandria to himself.

What he needed was a distraction. Stewing in jealousy and frustration was bad for the spirit, his mother said. It was best to find a goal and charge towards it. There was accounting and administrating to do but that would be true whether he started it now or waited until tomorrow when he was less energized by the recent ditter match. The Archdukes Archive was still only partially transcribed but the librarians needed the shumils’ help more over the next few days than at any other time. He decided to shoot some archery or swing his sword instead.

More and more students left until the dormitories were all closed. With so few people around, Hildebrand was able to reduce his escort a little bit each day. He shed the scholars first, then reduced the attendants to his one favorite. Grausfeld was never happy to be left at the villa but remembering how poorly his work compared to Kolteruze made Hildebrand feel less inclined to humor him.

He shared this sentiment with his mother on her end of year visit. They took tea and spread out all the reports from the school year. Reviewing things together made it less unpleasant. His school year consisted mostly of work after all.

“You want to replace your attendants again? You’ve been with them for such a short time,” Lady Magdelena replied with surprise. It suddenly made sense why he sent his own attendants outside their sound-proof bubble while she kept one of her own.

“They are not very good. Even some student attendants are better than them,” he said. He sifted through the pages absentmindedly.

“Learning to work with your retainers takes time. You have to train them by telling them what you need, agreeing on cues and signals, and reprimanding them when they fail to meet your expectations. I’m sure that with just a bit of work, they will outshine mere students,” she assured him. Neither of them could say that all the raising in the world would be wasted when they moved on to other positions.

Hildebrand pretended to read something. “Somehow I doubt Lord Kolteruze would lose even if I trained them for the next five years,” he muttered.

“Lord Kolteruze?”

“He will be a fifth year from Ehrenfest,” Hildebrand explained. “Lord Zargerecht is incredible as well. Perhaps it is his training that raises such skilled apprentices.” His pretending turned into true interest as he read a report on the incidents the Knights Order had responded to. There was a serious skew toward the lower ranked duchies. They seemed to need help more frequently and with smaller problems. “Are the knights from lesser duchies just worse?” he wondered aloud.

“They tend to have less mana and there are fewer of them. There are some duchies with several year wide gaps in their knight roster. That makes it difficult to pass on knowledge and training,” Magdelena explained.

“Couldn't they band together or something?”

“They do not want to strengthen their competitors.”

Hildebrand wondered if this was a good excuse. The Sovereign Knights Order was filled with many different duchies’ knights all working together. They also took their knowledge back home. Perhaps that was another reason the larger duchies were so much stronger.

They talked about the honor students and the professors’ recommendations. Teachers and faculty seemed to show a preference for students from their own duchies. Only Hirshur was equal in her favor, perhaps because she had less solidarity with her duchy than with a particular type of student. Her current and final protege, a boy named Evones, had published joint research with Rozemyne.

Hildebrand sighed. He’d been trying to escape his thoughts about Alexandria. It would be better to forget then allow himself to grow more attached to Letizia from a fresh perspective. She got good grades, wasn't hard to look at, was kind and, he learned from stray comments, seemed to understand what it was like to receive absolution you did not deserve. What she’d done, he likely would never know. He had no plans to reveal his own sordid history and didn't imagine she did either.

Sorting through reports couldn't distract him and visiting the library only aggravated his longing. Yet it was the only place he wanted to be. He tried not to bother the librarians too much and hid himself away on the second floor. He didn't want to take the shumils away from their work but once per week he went down to the Archdukes Archive to transcribe and wallow in his loneliness.

He liked to talk to Schwartz about his problems. The magic tool didn't really have solutions or answers but it could react to his comments and that felt like enough. It also had such a limited vocabulary that it couldn't spill his secrets. Sometimes they even brought him books which might or might not have answers to his problems.

When he asked how to make better attendants it brought him a collection of notes for the Attendant Course. They covered the fundamental tenets of the work: care, consideration, and discretion. “A first rate attendant must know what his lord wants and provide it before it is asked for.” That sounded impossible but the topic was fascinating nonetheless. He spent more time than he should reading information for that speciality. After all, as an Archduke Candidate and a prince, he would never be in the position to serve anyone.

There were no volumes which could teach him how to get closer to Rozemyne nor how to get closer to Ferdinand nor how to remove love from your heart nor how to put it there on purpose. There was a volume tangentially related to getting someone to love you. It detailed courtship advice from over a hundred years ago with such gems as “Cut off a small piece of their clothing without their notice so you can later prove they are comfortable enough in your presence to lower their guard” and “Take tea with her father more often than with her. A single grain of his favor is worth a cellar of her love.”

Professor Aloysia was amused by the antique text but assured him the advice was just as terrible in the past as it was now. “The very best thing you can do is to speak frankly. Tell them how you feel. Talk to their family. Courtship is just a series of conversations which may or may not end in marriage.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Hildebrand mumbled. He could see the condescending smile on her lips already. She would pat his head and tell him he wasn't reliable enough for her uses. Not to mention how many parents Rozemyne had.

“Yes it is,” Aloysia agreed and encouraged him to put the book aside.

With no hope remaining, Hildebrand asked Schwartz how to get closer to the library. Books were at the center of her heart after all. Maybe she would love him if he were a book too. Schwartz didn't bring him a spell to turn himself into a tome. Instead it brought him a slate detailing the Guardians of Knowledge.

It was a simple process. Write your oath upon the tablet before the Goddess’s image. Receive the key to knowledge. The oath looked very simple. The language was older than the surrounding text. After a week of carefully translating and cross checking he could read it:

I shall be or already am a guardian of knowledge
I will swear or do swear loyalty to Mestinora the Goddess of Wisdom
I shall devote all knowledge born in this land to Mestinora ect
The knowledge Mestinora ect gives me I will spread through this land
I will or do respect all knowledge (but a different word for knowledge) and vow to protect it
I will seek knowledge (the original word) regardless of opposition from authority, and not lose courage in the face of strength, and continue seeking knowledge and gathering it to offer to Mestinora ect

“This will make me closer to the library?” Hildebrand asked.

“Vow for servants of the library,” Schwartz said. Hildebrand was skeptical but the shumil could give him no additional information. Servant felt like the wrong word given the language. They sounded more like knights of Mestinora. Rozemyne implied that the librarians were Guardians of Knowledge. He struggled to imagine Professor Solange with a sword and shield standing before “strength”. That had to be the wrong word, Hildebrand thought.

He also didn't know where the Goddess’s image could be found. He searched around Farthest Hall when he opened it for Spring Prayer and found nothing aside from the seven statues on the shrine. There were plenty of other statues dotted around the Royal Academy and royal palace. He took a detour to visit the small statues around Schutzaria's large shrine but didn't find one for Mestinora. He also couldn't figure out what governed who got small statues and who didn't. Kunstzeal stood on her plinth with a calm smile while Forsernte was not depicted. The statues also weren't in any regular arrangement as to suggest the missing goddesses once had statues that fell at some point.

He tried writing the text on Schutzaria's shrine and below her statue in the library. He scribbled it below other goddess statues and on various important looking doors just in case. He began using Stylo to deface so many things his retainers grew curious and Anastasius found it necessary to lecture him. As he could neither be compelled nor wanted to explain, he kept his reasons secret and promised to clean up after himself.

By the time he actually asked where Mestinora's image could be found he could write the complicated old text from memory. He also felt incredibly stupid standing on the second floor of the library beside Professor Solange. Not only had he never before come to this corner in all his years of visiting, he’d even been told this was where people disappeared when trying to obtain the Book of Mestinora.

Professor Solange left him with a giggle and a warning not to donate too much mana all at once. This warning made sense once he touched the Grutrissheit held by the statue and felt an amazing quantity of mana withdrawn in one go. It left him wobbly and gave him a great excuse to stand for a long time staring at the statue.

Anyone could be mistaken for thinking this was a statue of Rozemyne. It was in a library, had botanical hair ornaments, and looked almost exactly like her. Mestinora was said to be depicted as a child and now he understood why. It wasn't a good time to deface this precious artifact. His attendants were buzzing around trying to treat his sudden bout of dizziness. So he waited until approximately a week later when they'd grown used to him staring at this statue for extended periods and stopped following him all the way to the corner of the second floor.

As far as they knew, there was nowhere for him to go and no way for anyone to reach him without passing by them first. A prince should never be obscured from the view of his guards but the empty academy and familiar setting had bred complacency.

Thus, Prince Hildebrand was not observed making his oath to the goddess nor receiving his key and watching in awe as it was pulled into his Divine Will.

Footnotes

55. Alcohol ^{^}

Chapter Text

Courage Shaped and Stunted- A Noble Interlude

Lord Melchior fretted over his knights for days after the ditter match. He was haunted by visions of them being battered by Dunkelfelger and expressed his anxiety in unnecessary healing and miscellaneous blessings of all kinds. Even Gerianne who hadn't participated and wouldn't for years to come was treated with sparkling light. He heaped even more blessings onto Theodore since he was returning to Kirnberger for the year. They had a tearful farewell in the teleportation hall then met again in the Winter Playroom.

Zargerecht could find no way to calm his lord except to allow this flagrant waste of mana. Even if a long conversation could have cured him, Zargerecht had far too much to do. This was his first year at the Royal Academy in a very long time. Much had changed and Melchior was a strange boy by noble standards. He had fewer clothes and other normal belongings but almost nothing could be left at the Academy until the following year. His paints and papers and ingredients were all being sent back so Zargerecht and his apprentices spent quite a long time sorting and packaging things then unpacking them in Ehrenfest.

He then had to meet with Haldis, Melchior’s head attendant, and Lady Florencia to explain how the winter had gone. It was normal to have much to discuss but Zargerecht had such a wide variety of topics to cover and a long list of complaints.

The apprentice attendants could be disrespectful at times but they completed their work. He wasn't happy with Kolteruze’s un-attendant-like sleeping patterns but with some accommodations his work was worthy of adult retainers. “He will be first rate one day. I dare to say he could be the next castle steward if he could manage to wake up in the morning.”

What Pepin lacked in extraordinary skill, he tried to make up through careful consideration of his lord's and fellow retainers’ needs. “He is sensitive in the extreme. Even small changes do not escape his notice. I only wish he would communicate more readily.” His memory was comparatively poor so his event planning suffered but given abundant time to review he was able to learn the layout of Melchior's closet and room successfully. “So long as nothing changes, his work will remain effective.”

It wasn't really Zargerecht’s place to complain about the knights and scholars. He reported what he'd observed and tried to communicate the complicated nature of his relationship with Isolde. Indeed she had a complicated relationship with everyone. Her assistance could be the difference between success and failure but her sharp attitude made it unpleasant to seek her aid. “She serves her lord with absolute loyalty and obedience but her fellow retainers must engage in bargaining.”

About Flautzeal, he could only complain that he was still young and untrained. As a musical instructor, he was excellent, but as a normal scholar he was only slightly better than normal third years. “He can record a spoken conversation word for word using a shorthand writing method.” Zargerecht explained that Melchior intended to keep this hidden and Isolde was trying to learn the skill. This earned a frown from Haldis. If their lord had declared something a secret, it was wrong to share it even with his mother. However, Zargerecht did not consider himself Melchior's retainer. He served Lady Florencia and had no secrets from her.

The meeting was long but Florencia did not wish to rush through the details. “I am interested in this problem you identified with his socializing. Bonifiatus says he’s corrected his tendency to offer greetings from Geduldh but you haven't marked this change.”

“I have not witnessed him give first time greetings. Only through second hand accounts did I learn of the problem at all. What I've observed is a struggle to uphold status. He has no problems when he is in a lower position, it is with those below him that he fails to maintain proper poise.” He accepted less than proper engagement from Lord Leibshitze and felt it necessary to prove his value to Lady Raphaela.

“That does not surprise me,” Florencia noted. “He made a request of Sylvester to be demoted to a commoner,” she announced with no change in emotion. Zargerecht was stunned.

“A commoner?” He said.

Florencia smiled placidly. “Yes. He wishes to be a blue priest. In his words, he is willing to remain High Bishop if we insist.” She took a sip of tea. “I believe he sees his status as an impediment to his relationships.”

“It would not impede anything were his relationships with those of proper status,” Zargerecht argued. “I’ve made attempts to push him toward ideal candidates but he has little interest. His standards make no allowances for correctness.”

“These attempts have failed because they have come too late. Our mistake was making him High Bishop. He has absorbed the egalitarian nature of the temple and collected friends of all stations. If we attempt to create distance too hastily, I fear another excursion.” Florencia sorted through her papers. They contained notes and reports from all three Archduke Candidates and Professor Ottilie as well as himself. “We shall continue to enforce proper poise but do not force him to forgo his relationships. He will have to learn for himself why archnobles prefer the company of other archnobles.”

Once this conversation was done, Zargerecht was given some time off. Serving an Archduke Candidate at the Royal Academy was backbreaking work. They required near constant service on top of all the guidance he was expected to provide to the apprentices. At least the children could do more of the physical labor.

He could not have been happier to be back. Assisting and being assisted by Kolteruze’s hired attendant could not compare to the years of understanding built between Zargerecht and his own. They could not talk much about his work but he was happy to hear about what the adults were doing over Winter Socializing.

No matter how intelligent or precocious, children were not a replacement for proper conversation partners. He didn't even spend his days off reading reports from Melchior and Henrietta’s tutors as he normally would. It therefore surprised him as much as it did Lord Meinhard when he sent an invitation to tea.

Serving any other child was not as difficult as serving an Archduke Candidate, but Lord Meinhard was tired all the same. Zargerecht was sure to stress that this was a casual affair but casual for archnobles still meant dressing in several rich layers, especially in the winter. They met in his chambers in the castle as Zargerecht did not have an estate. As a widower long in service to his lady, he’d never needed to purchase one.

“It has not been nearly long enough for you to miss my company, Lord Zargerecht. I must therefore imagine you have some business with me,” Lord Meinhard began.

Zargerecht was not used to anyone being so combative first thing but he smiled through his annoyance. “You have seen to the heart of it. Do not hold back on the refreshments either way,” he replied and gestured for more wine. It was neither particularly expensive nor his favorite but the taste was quite good. It was popular among attendants for its approachability and low alcohol content.

“Only remember that you insisted,” Meinhard said and drained his cup. He ate a bit of tart and sat in a slight daze for a moment. Zargerecht was happy for the quiet. He was not friends with Sigsnyr’s uncle but he was happy to socialize with anyone over thirty. That they were both recovering from exhaustion was a delightful bonus.

“I wished to speak about your nephew. Lord Melchior views him as a swallow views its nest⁵⁶. I cannot sit by while he searches for the foot of the stairway⁵⁷.”

Meinhard ate another bite of food and accepted a refill of wine. “You doubt his competency?” he asked.

“That is not what I’m saying. One can be skilled and still test the limits of that skill. Aren't you worried about him?” Zargerecht looked at the man before him. They were both attendants. Caring for one's charge was the very first thing you learned. He could not have forgotten after years of service.

“In appreciation of our charges’ closeness, I will tell you a story,” Meinhard began. He adjusted his posture then sipped his wine. “Sigsnyr visited his first gate in his third year.” Zargerecht paled. To think he’d begun so young. “It was an accident that he found it. His intention was to fly as far as he could before circumstances forced him to turn back. When he relayed this plan to me I counseled him against it. He was inexperienced and had just joined Melchior's service. It was a risk he should not take.”

“That sounds wise. You seem to have changed your position.”

Meinhard nodded. “He went anyway. He didn't tell me nor did he involve me in the planning. There was just a night where he did not return.” It had been a couple of years but the terror was still visible in his eyes as he discussed this. Zargerecht’s lord had been missing for a mere few minutes. Had he been missing past curfew, it was beyond consideration.

“There was so little I could do. The Sovereignty could not search with such vague directions. The dormitory supervisor was of the position that he would return soon enough mostly unharmed. An Archduke Candidate was also missing. No one was concerned about an archnoble who hadn't even raised a Rott.”

Zargerecht could only shudder. This was what his nightmares were made of.

“Of course he returned. You know him now after all. He was gone for two nights. When he finally appeared, he was dehydrated and hadn't eaten in twelve bells. And… he was happier than I've seen before or since.” Meinhard’s features softened. “So I let him go. I help him prepare and I pray for the best.”

“Aren't you worried?” Zargerecht asked. The conclusion didn't seem to match the story at all.

“Naturally. He is my brother's precious son.”

“Then why?”

Meinhard sighed. “We are old. It is hard to change your ways at our age but it is impossible to change one's nature no matter the years. He will go with or without my assistance because he cannot resist adventure. Perhaps I could layer him with chains, but he would break his own bones to escape. It is better to leave him intact such that he can face the trials he sets for himself.”

Zargerecht blinked rapidly. He wondered how many children Meinhard had been responsible for. If it was only this one, then his position could be understood. “You can direct him to other trials, develop other parts of his nature, suppress his urge through responsibility. Allowing him to fly into the wilds is madness.”

“Your counsel is appreciated. I do wonder though, what will you do when Lord Melchior begins taking his own trips to see the gates?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like master, like servant. He is obviously interested in them and unless you succeed in crushing his courageous spirit, he will attempt to go,” Meinhard said matter of factly.

“That will never be allowed. I am not crushing his spirit. We are simply redirecting it.”

“And that's a pity. Lord Melchior is unrestrained in his benevolence. He is unflinching in the face of even the many mawed beast⁵⁸. He stands before his retinue as a bulwark against others' cruelty, taking under his paw those who most need his protection.”

Zargerecht was exasperated. He did not need to be lectured on his charge’s personality. “That is childish naivete.”

“Perhaps. It could also be that he sees a world where such acts are worthwhile. Sigsnyr often says things I cannot understand. He claims to see and hear that which others cannot. At first, I was worried he was ill. Now I wonder how incredible the world he lives in must be. Would I prefer he lived in mine?” Meinhard finished his goblet and refused a third. He took another bit of tart and observed Zargerecht with the expression of one comforting an angry child. “I cannot know precisely what you went through to get here but these children do not live in that world anymore.”

“I did not think I lived in it either,” Zargerecht snapped. “The black smoke comes even when we do not expect it.”

“Were you not happier before all this? Did you fear the wilds before you were forced to face them alone⁵⁹?”

Zargerecht didn't respond. His past was not something he liked to discuss. That it seemed to be so widely known was not welcomed news either.

“You are preparing them for the world you know but wouldn't it be better if the world turned out as they envision it? As they are working to make it?” Meinhard leaned forward, his hands folded on the table. “Would you prefer they build the world you knew?”

The shiver this time was even deeper than before. Lord Melchior was strange as Archduke Candidates were but he was peace loving in the extreme. For him to perpetrate the violence of the civil war was unconscionable. Yet, as he was, even a more minor struggle for power would consume him. “That does not mean we can allow them to develop unsafe habits,” he replied.

Meinhard only shrugged. There was no more he could say. Ehrenfest had been well insulated from the civil war. The reign of Lady Veronica had its own terrors but they were comparatively tame. He could never truly know what it was like to lose everything and maintain yourself only on your skills. Meinhard could risk making mistakes with his nephew, not fatal ones, but harsh lessons would not end his career. Zargerecht did not have that luxury with the son of the Archduke. For that reason, perhaps he would never risk changing, even for the better.

“This has been enlightening. We are both in need of rest,” Meinhard said and began to rise. “Thank you for the wine. I pray that you live well in the divine protection of the gods until Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, weaves the threads of our fate together once again.”

“May our threads be woven together,” Zargerecht replied and walked his guest to the door. He realized he would have to bring this issue to someone with greater authority.

Striking a Deal- A Noble Interlude

At some point, you became too old for the Winter Playroom. This was not, as was generally thought, after you came of age but a little bit before that. Eventually, returning from the Royal Academy to live with a gaggle of children became a dreaded chore.

This change occurred for Sigsnyr the year before. Now he did his best to avoid the younger kids during his days off. He did not dislike them all but he did not want to humor Adaire everyday. The boy had too much energy which he thankfully was willing to spend on anyone, not just Melchior’s retainers.

Sigsnyr would have preferred going home and playing with his new magic tool schematics. It was the only thing he and his mother could speak three consecutive sentences about in addition to being his favorite hobby. The only redeeming quality of the playroom was spending time with his best friend but now that she worked in the capitol, he could see her other places too.

Zipporah and Kolteruze seemed to share his sentiment. They were happy to forego the possibility of extra dessert to sit quietly in a corner and think restful thoughts. This was his and Zipporah’s usual post academy activity but Kolteruze was a strange addition. They weren't going to shoo him away as long as he didn't ruin the atmosphere but it was odd.

“Sigsnyr,” he said at some point when the sound of Karuta had waned. “Do you want to make honors in the attendant track?”

Of course he did. His collection of honors faestones would never be complete since he'd failed to obtain honors in both professions. He couldn't just say this though. “Why do you ask?”

“I am beginning my studies on the sixth year content and wondering if you would like to study together?” Kolteruze replied frankly. Sigsnyr didn't know this boy well enough to ascertain his true feelings. He wasn't known for having study partners. Kolteruze had other friends. He didn't need to study with Sigsnyr nor did it make much sense for him to be so far ahead.

“What do you stand to gain?” Sigsnyr asked. The warmth of friendship wouldn't require sharing his legendary notes passed down from the Second Wife. Not to mention, Sigsnyr was taking a speciality in Chambers while Kolteruze was wasting his potential on the bare minimum number of classes.

Kolteruze sighed. “I will require a very high quality jureve.”

Zipporah perked up at this. “You know we would help you for free,” she said.

“I would like to avoid hunting beasts since I will need to be present for the gathering,” Kolteruze added.

Zipporah and Sigsnyr made similar frowns. “That is a taller order,” she replied. “What will you offer me?”

Kolteruze looked back and forth between them. He assumed he would only need to bribe Sigsnyr since they would be visiting a series of trees and nothing more. Sigsnyr knight behaved as though Zipporah's inclusion was a given. He also didn't seem like he would offer help convincing her for the price of some tutoring.

“I’m not sure I have anything else to offer,” Kolteruze admitted.

Sigsnyr looked him up and down. Kolteruze had lots of mana, enough that he was difficult to sense. It didn't seem possible for his only valuable trade good to be knowledge of the Attendant Course. “You have lots of mana and make no small profit on selling information each year. Your father is a giebe. This claim is hard to believe.”

“I am an attendant. I spend my free time studying. It is not as lucrative as you imagine. Is there something of mine you want, Zipporah?” Kolteruze asked.

She spent a long while thinking. “There is information I want,” she said after a while.

“My methods are not subtle.”

“What are your methods?” Sigsnyr asked.

“I walk up and ask people what I want to know,” Kolteruze replied. No one would give up secrets easily but most people's preferred tea was freely exchanged. If people said more than he asked, it was a happy bonus.

“Other than that. I will accept mana,” she said simply.

“That's it?” Kolteruze asked. He’d expected a dearer price for the lifesaving potion.

“You don't know what information I want,” she said with a smirk.

Sigsnyr looked at her. “I can help ask around if you like?” he offered. They had very few secrets between them. If she needed help, she didn't need to trade Kolteruze for it.

“That would not be as fun. Besides, would you steal work from a poor attendant?” She teased.

She was not the only person to make such remarks but she was the only person who didn't mean them. It was her accepting nature as well as her incredible skill that maintained their friendship. Sigsnyr found himself working harder just to keep up.

“In that case. I will accept your tutelage. But what will you give me if your assistance fails to produce results? You will have your jureve by then.” Sigsnyr asked.

“Doesn't it take longer than that?”

“Do you think we would wait to begin? Do you need the highest possible quality? If so you will have to wait until you come of age,” Zipporah replied. She explained the normal ingredients and the higher quality options she knew. “Also, just because they come from plants does not mean the gathering will be without bloodshed.”

Kolteruze paled. “The fruits you seek are a delicacy to many faebeasts,” Sigsnyr added.

“I will prepare myself for the worst.” Kolteruze said. He then considered the initial question. “If you manage to fail despite my assistance, it will be your own fault.”

“Oh? Have you so little faith in your pedagogy that you won't bet on it?” Sigsnyr challenged.

“I have faith in your skills. I believe that with the bare minimum of training you would pass without effort. All that prevents your being heaped with honors is that you've had to learn everything on your own and have no one to sponsor you with work. With my help you will have to try to be mediocre.”

“You cannot flatter me into giving up assurances,” Sigsnyr said with a deep blush. He twirled a lock of his hair. “If I manage to merely pass, you must assist me in developing a magic tool,” he declared.

“Just one?” Kolteruze asked.

Sigsnyr nodded. “But it must have unique features,” he added hurriedly.

“I should have started with that deal,” Kolteruze muttered then walked off with a nod of confirmation.

“He seems to think that task is easy,” Sigsnyr grumbled to Zipporah.

“Perhaps, to his mind, it is,” she said.

It took Sigsnyr several minutes to process this phrase. Did she mean that Kolteruze did think it was easy or that it would be easy for Kolteruze? If the latter, why did she believe he was so talented?

“Your wisdom is mysterious,” he muttered.

“What are you saying,” she huffed.

The Return Home

Melchior was anxious. He kept having dreams about ditter then waking up sure his knights were injured again. The feast had been a blur for him. Watching Sigsnyr smile and joke with the knight who knocked him out was surreal. Melchior wanted to pull him away and reassure him or perhaps he wanted to reassure himself.

The packing of his chambers proceeded without his assistance. He was parked in the common room and a book was forced into his hands. “Sit, read, do not worry, my lord,” Zargerecht said, then left to continue. Charlotte and Wilfred had a few last minute tea parties with close friends but Melchior hadn't planned anything.

The imperative not to worry was also an impossible task. Melchior had many worries not including his feelings about his knights. He had to talk about his last trip to the temple. There was the end of year discussion with the entire Archductal family. The reports for the temple needed to be calculated and turned in. So much awaited him back home. Principally, his painting which should not have existed was somewhere outside his knowledge and control.

The mystery wasn't immediately solved upon his return to Ehrenfest. He had to prepare with his scholars for the meeting then he was being sent back to the temple for the Winter Coming of Age.

“Are you certain, Father?” Melchior asked. His siblings waiting to welcome him in the teleportation hall were confused but didn't ask for clarification right away.

“Yep. You promised and I believe you. It's your job, yeah?” Sylvester said with a smile. Melchior also smiled though he didn't trust this calm return to the status quo.

The meeting was held in the Archduke's Office. Everyone had papers before them and a scholar beside them. Melchior managed to get both his scholars accepted. They worked best as a team after all. Because so many people were about, nothing overly secret could be discussed. The Archduke set the agenda and merely asked for confirmation and additional comments.

“Alright. This was an exciting year. Let's start with the good stuff,” he began. “Ehrenfest maintained our grades again this year, good job. We have quite a few honor students. I think we might need to reconsider the rewards going forward.” The faestones were not cheap it seemed. It was fine when one or two people over achieved but now they were rather small even with an increased budget.

The Archduke Candidates had technically won this year along with the first years. It didn't feel very motivating to award them two years in a row so the second place, the knights, would be awarded instead. Melchior felt bad for the attendants who put in so much work but never seemed to win.

The deal with Gausbuttel was moving forward, Wilfred was going to head the negotiations during the Conference to gain experience. There were a few other deals in the works with Vogtwerk and some other duchies.

“Hauchletze and Neuehausen expressed thanks for our assistance. Apparently we saved Neuehausen from losing their entire generation of knights,” Sylvester announced to awed murmurs and with a pointed look at Melchior.

“They only have three knights this year,” Melchior noted. He wondered why his father put it so grandly and why he made such a face.

“Charlotte says you’ve made some secret agreement with Bershmann,” Sylvester said suddenly. Melchior winced and glanced at his sister. She wore a smirk.

His mind raced. He couldn't lie and he didn't want to reveal anything. “It is only a secret from Charlotte. She is trying to use you to gain information. I will tell you in private,” Melchior replied. He looked back at her with his best impression of Lady Florencia, calm and unruffled.

Sylverster watched this minor feud play out between his children with an amused smile. Whatever it was, they were working awfully hard.

They discussed Charlotte's engagement in more detail. Florencia planned to get the Zent’s approval but they would not announce it until the following year. It was part of Torsten's trial to remove his competitors.

“When did this agreement happen?” Wilfred asked. “I remember telling him no.”

“At the Interdutchy Tournament, dear brother. Granduncle met him and gave his support to the idea,” Charlotte explained before anyone else could offer comment. Wilfred looked at Bonifatius skeptically but he couldn't argue against the elder man. Melchior felt happy to have provided assistance.

Once they’d covered the Archduke's notes he opened the floor to any further comments. No one had anything they hadn't disclosed beforehand.

“Very well. Onto the reprimands,” the Archduke said. His children all tensed behind forced smiles. Melchior certainly had things worthy of chiding. He wondered what his siblings could have done wrong.

“Wilfred. Being subtle and being vague are two different things. Learn the difference.

“Charlotte, your reports were thorough and timely. You move with confidence but we would like a little more collaboration between you and your brothers. You didn't include Melchior in any of your important activities. This goes for you too, Wilfred. He won't learn if he isn't given responsibility.”

“I will improve,” Charlotte replied. Wilfred just had a scowl.

“And Melchior. We will have another discussion later. As for what I will say with those assembled, you need to learn what counts as important information. Every time someone talks to you they learn about some new fact you were keeping to yourself. It's better to report too much than assume we know more than we do.”

“I understand, Father.” Melchior said. He wasn't sure how to reconcile this with the counsel that he was too free with information but he would ask someone later on.

“Ok, prepare for our individual meetings over the next few days. Everyone is dismissed except for Melchior and retinue.”

Charlotte and Wilfred looked at him quizzically. Wilfred whispered something to Charlotte and her eyes grew wide. Melchior tried not to seem so nervous he was shaking. Everyone filed out and were replaced by Melchior’s other retainers. Once the door closed, he was left with every member of his retinue, his father's most trusted knights, and the Aub.

Sylvester took a deep breath. “First, Sigsnyr,” Sigsnyr stepped forward and kneeled. “I spoke with Geibe Haldenzel about his daughter working in the temple. During that conversation, your father was surprised to hear that you were already doing just that. According to him, he was giving his permission for a one time event.”

“If you would permit a mere knight to speak,” Sigsnyr said

“I would like you to explain why you haven't lied to the Archduke.”

“Thank you for your grace, Aub Ehrenfest. I asked if my father would permit me to serve Lord Melchior at the temple so that I might learn the Divine Instruments. I was clear that I should be engaged in work as an apprentice knight. I believe my father was not aware that learning the Divine Instruments takes a great deal of time and would require multiple trips,” Sigsnyr replied. “I conveyed his permission under the assumption that he did know it would take such a long time as to require continuous service until I came of age.”

Sylvester stroked his chin. This was precisely the kind of minutia a child would rely on. He didn't want to punish the boy. He was a quality knight and his father was an important member of the Knights Order. “Next time express the nature of things clearly and completely. Technicality will not always be enough.”

“Thank you, Aub Ehrenfest,” Sigsnyr said with another bow then returned to his place. “The rest of you have all received permission to perform your jobs at the temple as though it were an extension of the Nobles Quarter.”

Melchior smiled brightly. “Thank you, Father,” he chirped.

“Do not thank me. Giebe Haldenzel is very loud,” Sylvester said with a momentary lapse in his demeanor. He recovered swiftly and swept his eyes over the assembled retainers. “You are all aware by now that Melchior decided to seek the wilds’ embrace. He has promised there will be no repeat of this incident and I believe him. You are all quality retainers, through your combined effort I am certain there will be no opportunity for a repeat of this incident.

“Most of you were at the Royal Academy or the castle and thus unable to intervene. This will never again be a sufficient excuse.” He looked at Melchior as he spoke. “Should such avoidable harm befall my son again, I will have nor mercy left to give.” Since the Aub declared it publicly, he would have to follow through. Melchior knew this as well as everyone else. He nodded his understanding and locked the joy of that morning deep in the bowels of his heart. There would be no repeat of that adventure. “Is that understood?”

Everyone kneeled, crossed their arms, and bowed their heads. “Yes, Aub Ehrenfest,” they said.

“Good. Now tell me about this agreement with Bershmann.”

Melchior was still shaking by the time he returned to his room. His apprentices were given time off so he was left with his adult knights and Haldis. He sat across from them beside Sigsnyr who remained to keep his end of their bargain.

“We’ve had much time to consider this,” Haldis began. “We’ve also spoken with Lady Florencia and Zargerecht.”

“I will not do it again,” Melchior promised.

“We are mostly certain of that. However, we would like to understand why you did this in the first place and what it has to do with you asking to be demoted to a commoner?”

This was new information to Sigsnyr. Melchior mentioned that he found being an Archduke Candidate difficult and oppressive but not that he'd already asked to be demoted to the lowest rank in society.

Melchior was shocked that so many people seemed to know something he'd only told Sylvester. “I… I did not intend to tell anyone about that.”

“We were informed by the Archduke,” Haldis said.

Melchior paled. His own father had disclosed his secrets. “I thought it would be better to be a normal priest. Then I could help Ehrenfest without embarrassing us as an Archduke Candidate.”

“You have never embarrassed Ehrenfest,” Sigsnyr said quickly. He twisted in his seat to look directly at his lord.

“I’ve done so several times,” Melchior argued. He listed his offenses to the growing confusion of all around.

“Those sound like extremely minor blunders,” Haldis remarked. “Not to mention. The opinions of archnobles from other duchies are fairly trivial. You seem to have a good reputation with other Archduke Candidates and the royal family.”

Melchior didn't feel sure of this. He remembered the furtive glances and whispers. The sharp words of Lehmbruck’s first year still played in his head at times. “But everyone looks down on me for being a priest,” Melchior muttered. He clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

They all sighed. “That is not something you can control. Are you ashamed of serving as the High Bishop?” Melchior shook his head. It was the only work he felt competent at. “Neither are we to serve the High Bishop of Ehrenfest. The opinions of the masses can shift very quickly. In time, they will accept and appreciate your skills.”

Melchior wasn't sure he believed that either. The looks and comments did not feel changeable.

“In any case, endangering your own life is not the way to combat these pressures,” Dedryck said.

“I’m sorry, Dedryck,” Melchior said. He’d wanted to apologize for such a long time. “I’m sorry I worried you, and put your life in danger, and made father reduce your pay, and…”

“That is not what matters,” Fonsel interrupted.

“I’m sorry, Fonsel. I know you're having a baby. Its all my fault, if you need help I’ll help, I…”

“Enough,” he grunted. “We do not need your concern. It is our job to help you and protect you. If you are feeling like you cannot go on, tell us.” Dedryck and Haldis nodded their agreement. Fonsel knelt to look Melchior in the eyes. He glanced at Sigsnyr. Previous discussions revealed that this apprentice was privy to many things they were not. “Tell us. We will help you and we will keep your secrets,” Fonsel promised.

At this, Melchior looked at Dedryck. He was in service to the Archduke. He would inevitably tell his father anything of note. “Your safety is most important. If it means you will stop hiding from me, I will keep your secrets as well,” he promised. That Melchior worked so hard to avoid his watch was a serious impediment to discharging his duty.

Melchior forced himself not to look sheepishly to the side. He met Dedryck's promise with a smile. “Let us work together in service to the Aub,” he said. He still liked Dedryck and didn't really mind his split loyalties. If he didn't have to hide his activities from him, that would be better.

The knight blushed slightly “And for Ehrenfest,” he replied. Fonsel laughed which helped to dispel much of the tension.

“Thank you, Lord Melchior, for trusting us,” Haldis said. “There is much to prepare for your meetings with the Archduke and First Wife. I worked with Kazmiar to create an outline for you to reference if you wish. Lady Florencia also sent an assignment.”

He and Fonsel stood and moved to resume life as usual. Melchior turned to Sigsnyr. “Thank you for staying with me,” he whispered.

“Of course. I promised I would,” Sigsnyr replied with a smile.

“Please go and enjoy your rest.”

Sigsnyr gained a far away look. “Back to the Playroom then,” he muttered and trudged away.

Footnotes

56. “Trusts and relies upon”^{^}

57. “Skirts death” different from looking for the whole stairway in that you don't intend to climb it^{^}

58. Public opinion^{^}

59. Not a euphemism. In my version of accounts, Zargerecht fled for his life on foot/highbeast from Frenbeltag because that's more interesting^{^}