Difference between revisions of "Daybreak:Volume 2 Chapter 6"
(Created page with "===Chapter 6 - War with Conviction=== With shortspear in one hand and partisan in the other, Kaleva tilted his skis into a sharp turn before zigzagging back into formation. I...") |
m |
||
(14 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown) | |||
Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
− | ===Chapter 6 - |
+ | ===Chapter 6 - The Third Wheel=== |
+ | Kaede loitered in the castle as the dusk sky dimmed outside. Sylviane had dragged Pascal off to the Emperor's privy council meeting. However unlike the war council earlier, the privy council was a much more limited affair. There also wasn't any tradition of bringing in junior lieutenants. |
||
− | With shortspear in one hand and partisan in the other, Kaleva tilted his skis into a sharp turn before zigzagging back into formation. It brought an opportune moment to gaze into the gentle flurry behind him, even as their column of hundreds continued their journey north. |
||
+ | ''Even Queens didn't usually attend privy council sessions,'' Kaede reflected from Earth history. ''It would be unusual if Pascal brought me.'' |
||
− | The twenty-three year-old had left his quiet, farming hamlet two days ago, after the village seer announced the Jarl's orders. His fellows had been on the road ever since, merging together with men from several settlements along the way. |
||
+ | Nevertheless, it made her feel like an unwanted outsider again. Pascal and Sylviane were a pair in more ways than one. Apart from being the next royal couple of Rhin-Lotharingie, they were both talented if not brilliant in their own way. Both of them were also willful and determined to shape the future of their countries. It was as though the two of them were fated to leave their mark on history. |
||
− | Kaleva felt uneasy about leaving his home behind, protected by only the older members of the militia. It was illogical that they should travel north to rally, only to ski back south for war. Would it not be easier to simply wait several days before meeting up with the brave army as they marched for glory? |
||
+ | ''Meanwhile... I'm just some average student from Japan.'' Kaede sighed. |
||
− | Skied. Not marched. Only a foolish heathen of the south would march in this weather. |
||
+ | Well, that wasn't exactly true. She could at least justify being 'above average'. She had been accepted by one of the best universities in the world, and she had spent her formative years debating history and international relations with her father, a university professor in history. |
||
− | But watching the snowfall did alleviate his worries by a hint. After all, the wisen seer was right. The war was timely and just. With the blessing of the Stormlord, the early snow had already piled knee-deep, transforming every field of land into the smoothest highway. In this realm of heavenly white, the imperialistic Trinitians shall flounder and perish while the true descendants exacted revenge for an age of humiliation. |
||
+ | While Kaede's friends indulged themselves in romcom fiction or action manga, she was consuming world history and treatises on geopolitics. Her celebrities were world leaders and statesmen. Her heroes were great thinkers who applied history to shape the world: men like the Cold War strategist George Kennan, the cultural-political scientist Samuel Huntington, and of course, the 'grand master' of geopolitics Lee Kuan Yew. |
||
− | After centuries of encroachment and expansion into the north, the impertinent southerners were dissolving into internal turmoil once more -- brother fighting against brother like the abyss-tainted demons they were. |
||
+ | It had always left her a bit of an outcast in pop-culture discussions. It was part of why while Kaede had plenty of acquaintances in school, there were few whom ''he'' could call a true friend. |
||
− | But this time, Skagen was not recovering from the scything death of epidemics, or preoccupied by the schemes of morally-corrupt traitors. This time, the Hyperboreans of the north shall seize the moment and recover what was rightfully theirs. |
||
+ | The Samaran girl sighed again as she strode up to yet another painting and examined it. The beautifully-detailed artwork had a frame as wide as a dining room and ran from hip-high to almost reach the ceiling. Like all the others found in the Oriflamme Palace, its focus was another paladin of Rhin-Lotharingie -- this time a lean-shouldered, handsome, if somewhat effeminate young man. Clad in mail armor, the paladin sprouted flame-feathered phoenix wings and glowed in a halo of white-blue flames. He flew above the ground with his armigers, leading far ahead of a massive charge of mixed cavalry and heavy, wagon-like chariots. |
||
− | The southerners might mock them as barbaric 'Northmen' whose only occupation was to raid and pillage; but to the Hyperboreans, the North Sea and its fertile coast was their promised land. It was here, in ages past, where the blood of their ancestors shattered the most cunning abyssal offensive of the Dragon-Demon War. The divine dragonlords may have long since departed, but their legacy -- their gift to humanity -- would live on through mythic champions of yore... |
||
+ | ''Are those... mongols with cannons?'' |
||
− | Kaleva saw the signaler raise his flag before tilting it to the right with a shake. Major Kaleva of Rimpi -- the name was proud and common -- called for the entire unit to bank right into a full stop. |
||
+ | Kaede examined the 'enemy' painted in ominous grey. The flanks were predominantly light cavalry, with many pulling back recurve bows. However the center was mostly infantry carrying wooden planks with small iron tubes affixed to them. Interspersed among them were wheeled, wooden platforms that carried a black, metallic tube. One of them even belched forth flames as the primitive bombard unleashed its shot. |
||
− | As over a thousand skis scratching against icy snow came to a halt, everyone's eyes and ears extended outwards to sense what the Major warily sought. |
||
+ | "Leslie Eachann Barclay of Tollaigh, Voivode of Dvina." Kaede muttered as she knelt down to inspect the label inscribed onto the frame's bottom. |
||
− | Then Kaleva heard it... |
||
+ | According to the Lotharin history books she read, Leslie the Paladin was a mercenary captain from the clans of Gleann Mòr. He joined the Grand Republic of Samara's predecessor state in repelling an invasion from the east. At the time, almost nobody knew of him back in the Rhin-Lotharingie lands, even though he clearly did well in establishing himself as a 'Voivode' -- which on Earth was an Eastern European name for a ducal-level military commander. |
||
− | A soft but frantic rhythm, as though thousands of feet stomping down upon hard sand... |
||
+ | His fame only spread to his homeland three centuries later, when it was Leslie's legacy which brought in a Samaran expeditionary force to aid the Lotharins during the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War. Today, Leslie's name was known even among children. Their rhymes sang of ''Leslie's blessing'' which brought hope during difficult times. |
||
− | No, not feet... |
||
+ | It was hard to tell if anyone on Leslie's side in the painting was a Samaran since they mostly wore helmets. However as Kaede combed through the allied ranks, she did spot a young lady with flowing white hair. The girl stood on top of one of the leading heavy chariots. Her hands steadied the scorpion-like light artillery affixed to the wagon-bed while her companion loaded the weapon. |
||
− | Hooves, of iron and steel... |
||
+ | "You like the painting?" |
||
− | "FORM SCHILTROMS! ANTI-CAVALRY!" screamed the Major. |
||
+ | Kaede turned as she stood up. Her eyes met the gaze of a smiling, elderly maid. The wrinkled old woman was thinly built and dressed in elegant black and white. Though the small, bejeweled hairpin that she wore in her french-bun showed that she was no common servant. |
||
− | ...But it was already too late. |
||
+ | "Yes. I'm no connoisseur of paintings, but its history fascinates me." Kaede answered before realizing that she had better identify herself, lest they treat her as an intruder in the palace. "Sorry, I'm Kaede, the familiar of Landgrave Pascal von Moltewitz of Nordkreuz." |
||
− | Kaleva was still kicking the skis off his snowshoes when the first black rider charged over the crest of nearby hills. Dozens... no, ''hundreds'' more followed along the length of the ridge -- a swarm of hungry black that surged over white slopes like a tidal storm. The forward ranks pelted javelins and spells alike before drawing swordstaves, soon leveled into glistening rows of charging blades. The ground itself began to tremble and quake under the thunder of a thousand hooves. Even the skies rained steel from crossbow volleys, sent by endless waves of horsemen peaking crests. |
||
+ | "Yes, I know." The matron replied warmly. "I'm Head Maid Rachel. Her Highness Princess Sylviane asked me to come find and bring you to dinner." |
||
− | The skiers never even had the time to finish reforming their ranks... |
||
+ | Kaede's stomach growled as if on cue. It brought a sheepish smile to the Samaran girl's lips. Apart from a few pastries that Sylviane had requested in the royal sitting room, Kaede hadn't eaten since breakfast back at the academy. The winter sun set early so they were only entering dinnertime. Nevertheless Kaede felt famished now that she was no longer distracted by historical artworks. |
||
− | Battle cries in Imperial soon echoed from the other side, and the entire column of leather-clad ski infantry found themselves pincered in between two opposing flanks. Surrounded by the blood-curling roar of thousands, Kaleva found himself shaking against the meaning of those foul words once told by veterans: |
||
+ | "I'm afraid the food isn't ''quite'' ready yet," Rachel smiled back. "Is there anything you would like to know about these paintings while we wait for a few more minutes? I happen to also serve as a curator in my secondary role." |
||
− | "Holy Father with us!" |
||
+ | Kaede's eyebrows rose. ''That... sort of makes sense, actually.'' |
||
− | But the young Kaleva would never see the panic that ensued, or the butchering that followed which dyed an entire field of snow in crimson death. |
||
+ | She had noticed that Emperor Geoffroi clearly did not believe in hiring many servants. Kaede wasn't sure if this was because of frugality or the need to reduce palace expenditures. However it definitely felt like the royal court had less attendants than Alisia Academy, and certainly less than any palace from Earth as shown in historical dramas. |
||
− | His last memory came when the weighted tip of a heavy javelin shattered his spine, just seconds after he retrieved the round shield that could have saved his life. |
||
+ | "I've read about Leslie the Paladin in books but... to see a scene of it depicted in such grand detail. It's... ''awe inspiring.''" Kaede tried to describe her feelings as she looked over the huge painting. "Was this an actual battle that Leslie commanded?" |
||
+ | "Commanded? No. This painting depicts the Second Battle of Desna River." Rachel explained as she pointed out the blue streak that could just be seen behind the friendly cavalry. "It's a visualization of the climatic moment, when Leslie the Paladin joined Lidiya the White Rose as they led the charge of the elite Polisian, and later Samaran, 2nd Guards Cavalry Brigade against the Great Khan's ''Divine Engine Division''." |
||
+ | The head maid then grinned proudly. "His Majesty always said that this battle forever changed world history." |
||
− | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
||
+ | Kaede frowned. It was strange to see a battle in Hyperion where large numbers of gunpowder weapons were employed. In all of Kaede's research for Pascal, she hadn't read a single one. |
||
+ | "I presume it has something to do with this ''Divine Engine Division'' and their gun... blast powder weapons?" |
||
+ | "Yes." Rachel confirmed Kaede's suspicions. "They were an experimental formation originally established by the eastern Dawn Imperium. The unit was later enlisted by the Great Khan after he all but vanquished that eastern superpower, having conquered it at least for a few decades. The Dawn Imperium has a tendency to bounce back as a superpower after every calamity, even if it takes them a century or two." |
||
− | Kaede had wanted to fight. It was an excellent opportunity to attune to the life that Pascal would live. She even spent every spare moment over the past day in preparation, adjusting the composition of the quicksilver bow she formed out of the 'morphic blade' Pascal gave her. |
||
+ | ''They're definitely the China of this world,'' Kaede concluded. |
||
− | 'Spring steel', actually, even if the enchanted alloy looked like mercury. Despite being a quarter short of her Yumi-Daikyu, the new bow was so strong she had to activate her runic ''Elemental Body'' just to shoot it. Pascal's willingness to refill those spells came a bit begrudging -- he thought she was wasting her time. |
||
+ | "The division was recorded to be armed with a variety of weapons including mortars, grenades, hand-cannons, bombards, and uhh... I think these were called 'rockets'." She highlighted the trails of smoke that flew over the battlefield, even as streaks of mana rushed up from the friendly forces to intercept them." |
||
− | He might even be right. Kaede's preference in weapons was, after all, rather obsolete. |
||
+ | Kaede could feel her curiosity growing more and more. "What happened exactly?" |
||
− | Hyperien bows had already evolved past their medieval equivalents on Earth. Rather than a traditional recurve composite bow, Weichsel's few -- and their far more preferred steel crossbows -- were of compound design. Like the bows of modern athletes, they used a levering system of cables and pulleys. The result bent steely limbs to store greater energy, yet required less of the draw strength that took traditional longbowmen years to build. |
||
+ | "Leslie had volunteered to lead the vanguard attack before the main charge." The Head Maid answered. "Since blast powder is volatile and an Oriflamme burns the very air around them, the soldiers caught fire one after another and their 'divine engines' exploded. The Polisian cavalry then poured through the collapsing center and broke the Easterners' battle line. It was a complete disaster for the forces of the Great Khan and it turned the tide of the war." |
||
− | Nevertheless, she felt compelled to wield it. With several ''Smiting'' spells in her runes, a few exacting shots to pierce the heads of lead officers could deliver devastating damage to organization and morale. |
||
+ | "Is that why the Emperor said the battle forever changed history?" Kaede asked, though she could already guess at the answer. |
||
− | But equipment and arsenal wasn't the real problem right now. |
||
+ | "No." Rachel shook her head. "His Majesty said that this battle was the first and last time blast powder would play a decisive role on the battlefield. After this, no army would rely upon such a volatile technology. Therefore despite their potential, blast powder weapons would, at best, be used in a supporting role." |
||
− | Kaede's hands were trembling. |
||
+ | ''Sounds like the Emperor is a student of history as well.'' |
||
− | In fact, her entire arm -- perhaps even the entire body -- continued to quiver lightly as she watched on from a hilltop, mounted alongside two other signal officers. |
||
+ | Kaede knew that on Earth, early gunpowder weapons were often considered questionably useful due to their low accuracy and tendency to explode. Even as late as the Napoleonic Wars, gunpowder's susceptibility to the elements meant exposure to rain could cripple an army. In a world where every mage was capable of conjuring fire and water, gunpowder weapons were never given the opportunity to evolve. Its innovation had been stifled long before sealed cartridges could be developed, which took centuries of use in warfare even back on Earth. |
||
− | The fighting across the fields was no skirmish. It wasn't even a bloody battle. |
||
+ | "Does His Majesty read many books?" Kaede inquired. |
||
− | ''It's a massacre.'' |
||
+ | "Oh yes, His Majesty is a voracious reader. Even back when the late Empress blessed these halls with her grace, his books would cost the palace more gold per year than her jewels and dresses." Rachel gave a nostalgic smile. "Would you like to see the library?" |
||
− | Nearly eight hundred Skagen ski infantry had been caught in the open by almost fifteen hundred cavalrymen. As though two-to-one odds weren't enough, Weichsel's forces managed to sandwich the enemy in-between, using the snow, the rolling hills, and some mirage arcana to remain unnoticed until the last minute. |
||
+ | "I'd sure like to know where it is. Though I probably shouldn't distract myself further before dinner." |
||
− | The defenders' few mages had tossed runes out by the handfuls, attempting to raise pillars and walls of icy stalagmites in the wintry fields. But the Weichsen officers never gave them a chance. Swarms of ''Ether Seekers'' shot out like a missile massacre to interdict the stones, disrupting their magic through the forced injection of hostile, unstable ether. |
||
+ | "Certainly. Please follow me." Rachel announced before leading Kaede down the hallway. |
||
− | The few obstacles that did form were not enough to break the charge. Experience cavalrymen in black partial plate leaped over them with ease, driving wedge formations -- their triangular tips led by spell-fortified officers -- into the gaps between incomplete spear walls. |
||
+ | "What kind of person was the late Empress?" Kaede added in curiosity of Princess Sylviane's mother. ''It's said that while fathers taught skill and determination, it was the mother who shaped a child's morale character.'' |
||
− | The results could not be more one-sided had a column of tanks plowed straight into a courtyard of assembling infantry. |
||
+ | "She was a kind and gentle woman, if a bit too... innocent, for the intrigues of the court," Rachel reminiscenced. "She had dedicated her life to bringing up her three children, to be upright, industrious, and dedicated. It's such a great injustice what happened to her and the two princes." |
||
− | From her vantage point and through familiar-enhanced senses, Kaede had a clear and far-too-detailed view of the grisly bloodbath. No less than five cavalry wedges had pierced into the loose column of Skagen ski infantry. Driven by momentum and muscle, the Weichsen chargers shoved through disorganized foot soldiers before trampling them underfoot. Meanwhile their riders sliced and stabbed with sabers and swordstaves, hacking limbs and severing necks even as bloody spurts dyed their armor and steeds in ghastly red. |
||
+ | Kaede had heard from Pascal that Sylviane had lost her mother and both elder brothers to Imperial Mantis Blade assassins. It was merely another example of the deep, blood-soaked hatred between the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie and the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea. |
||
− | Here and there a band of defenders rallied under the leadership of an officer, but these pockets of resistance were soon picked out by spotters. Mounted arbalesters and Reiters ringed the battlefield from higher ground. Like sickles through wheat, sudden hails of missiles quickly mowed down those brave enough to hold their ground. |
||
+ | "It's been over a decade since her death and His Majesty has never even shown an inkling of interest in remarrying." Rachel noted sadly. "He has even kept her old room exactly the way it was. Some say it's because her fae magic melded the Emperor's soul to her own, and when she left she took a part of him with her. I think it's simply because His Majesty loves her that much." |
||
− | Kaede had thought that this couldn't be much worse than watching the most gruesome of documentary videos. She thought that her practiced emotional detachment when observing history would suffice... |
||
+ | "Fae magic?" Kaede's eyebrows rose as they turned to another hallway. |
||
− | She couldn't have been more wrong. |
||
+ | It was the second time she heard the phrase spoken today. |
||
− | The scent of blood permeating every breath of air... |
||
+ | "Yes. The late Empress was a faekissed, the daughter of a minor earl from Ceredigion." Rachel began to explain, clearly realizing that Kaede had never heard of them before. "The faekissed are descendants of the faerie lords, whose rule over these lands is described in the ancient ''Book of Invasions''. During the height of their power, they had dominated all of Western Hyperion as far as the reaches of modern day Samara. However, for reasons unknown, they have since retreated through the portals back to their world. All that remains of them today are the stone rings, the faekissed, and the various artifacts that could be found throughout the land -- like the armor Her Highness wears." |
||
− | The crack of bones as ribs shattered under thunderous hooves... |
||
+ | "I would never have guessed," Kaede muttered in astonishment. "I mean... she looks so ''human!''" |
||
− | The sound of slicing metal as keen edge met flesh... |
||
+ | But then, perhaps Kaede shouldn't be surprised. After all, she herself had a Samaran body, yet the only way to tell from external appearance was her snowy-white hair. Meanwhile Cecylia was a dhampir, a heritaged shown only in her gaze. Even the Princess' purple hair didn't mean much, as many mages had tresses dyed by the color of their mana, for instance Ariadne's floral-pink hair. |
||
− | The splattering of blood as yet another sack of meat struck ground... |
||
+ | It was only then that Kaede realized that she was being rude. However Rachel at least took no offense as the old maid simply chuckled: |
||
− | ''This... is war.'' |
||
+ | "It's been several thousand years since the faerie lords left our world. That's several dozen generations, even with the longevity given by the blessing of magic. Most faekissed have but a drop of fae blood in them today. Though even that blood is enough to make a big difference from most humans." |
||
− | Kaede felt as thought she was stuck in a constant cringe. A faint sense of nausea rose up with every breathe. Her fingers tightened around the not-quite-longbow; but even under the firm grasp of her right hand, her left arm continued to shiver and shake. |
||
+ | "Could you tell me about some of those differences?" |
||
− | ''They said that only those who experienced battle firsthand knew hell...'' |
||
+ | The head maid looked back and smiled. "You're a real scholar aren't you? The questions just don't stop coming." |
||
− | Pascal had warned her that the first time often left a recruit shaken. It was why soldiers were repetitively drilled to perform their task with mechanical automation. But since she acted as an observer and not participant, there would be no such distractions for her. |
||
+ | "Ah, sorry..." |
||
− | His follow-up words were "''you will get used to it''". |
||
+ | "No, I'm happy to answer. You're just not what I expected." Rachel answered as she turned back and kept on walking. "Just like her mother, Her Highness is an autumnborn. As the name implies, she was born in October, and Fall is her favorite time of the year -- she could spend hours just watching the leaves fall outside. She also has absolutely dreadful spring allergies, and tends to be moody and irritable during that season." |
||
− | ''Used to it... sure, once I'm properly desensitized to the killing.'' |
||
+ | ''So, walk on eggshells around her then.'' Kaede made a mental note. |
||
− | She wasn't sure if that was better, or worse... far worse. |
||
+ | After all, it wasn't like she was asking merely out of curiosity. Relationship building benefited from research and planning just like any other activity. Professionals like diplomats usually began their task by seeking an understanding of the other side's background and temperament. And while Kaede normally wouldn't go this far, she knew that as long as she stayed with Pascal, managing her relationship with the Princess will be one of her greatest challenges. |
||
− | "They didn't stand a chance," remarked one of the signal officers, a young, plain-faced Junior Lieutenant with flat blond hair, slate-blue eyes, and a tall, freckled nose. |
||
+ | "The autumnborn favor acumen," Rachel continued in the meantime, "though they're not as logical as their cold and stoic winter brethren. They also have a tendency to get jealous, though they're never as passionate as their summer kin. They dislike airheads above all, probably due to their rivalry with spring. Though I'd say you're in no danger of that." |
||
− | Given the wintry conditions, this should not have happened. Not even the lightest cavalry could ride unimpeded in knee-deep snow. Had it been any other country, the horsemen would have struggled to merely keep up with the cross-country skiers, let alone outmaneuver them. |
||
+ | ''And I thank every buddha for this small blessing.'' |
||
− | But Weichsel was different. More precisely, the Weichsen professional cavalry had a higher ratio of noble-to-commoners than any other. At least one in every four soldiers of the 'Weichsel Cavalry' formations was a trained battlemage, and the Reiters plus Phantoms were almost entirely spellcasters. |
||
+ | "And here we are, the royal library." Rachel announced as she pushed open a pair of wooden, double doors. "It's not quite as grand as the one at the Alisia Academy where you were living. But I'd say you'll find plenty to read here." |
||
− | This magical saturation gave them an overwhelming advantage in arcane support. Such utilities varied from ''Climatize'' buffs that kept the soldiers warm and their armor from locking up, to ''Snowskimmer'' spells that allowed horseshoes to gallop atop snow as though firm ground. Periodically recasting these effects for hours would prove a constant drain upon their ether supply, but a mage-dominated army could afford such luxuries while retaining enough reserves for combat casting. |
||
+ | For a brief moment Kaede stared in awe as she eyed the rows upon rows of bookshelves. There was enough here to make even a modern public library proud. Furthermore, unlike the massive collection at the Alisia Academy of Magic, this library was meant for the royal family's personal use. Its size and abundance certainly showed just how many rulers of the Gaetane dynasty were of erudite character. |
||
− | "Not even a single siphon," commented the other officer, a pale-skinned, lanky young man of the same rank who rubbed his nose with nonchalance. "Just a gaggle of dirty peasants from backwater villages; hardly a victory worth our time." |
||
+ | "You know, in all my years, you are the first individual who is more interested in His Majesty's library than his throne room." Rachel spoke with amusement as she watched the young girl's reaction. |
||
− | They had introduced their noble origins earlier. But Kaede merely remembered them as Werner and Karl. It wasn't really fair to the former, who paid his respects through solemn words. But the latter was just annoying, if not callous to the point of inhumane. |
||
+ | "The throne?" Kaede turned towards the head maid with raised eyebrows. ''It's just a fancy chair, isn't it?'' |
||
− | "Eight hundred lives and not worth your time, is it?" Kaede spoke bitterly. |
||
+ | Kaede had seen enough thrones on Earth to know that they were always magnificent and opulent and often downright excessive. From the Winter Palace to the Kyoto Imperial Palace to the Palace of Versailles, the thrones of Kings and Emperors were always purposefully set up to make anyone who stood before them feel awe and a sense of insignificance by comparison. |
||
− | "Whose side are you on?" Karl tossed back, his tone still uncaring. |
||
+ | However, when one peeled away all the unnecessary pomp and pretentiousness, the throne was always just a room with a seat. Everything else was just an illusion of grandeur, as even the most grandiose throne in the world provided little meaningful value to the well-being of a nation-state. The garish colors of the Chrysanthemum Throne was certainly less than worthless during Japan's ''Sengoku Jidai'', as it became a focal point of conflict inside a fracturing nation, torn asunder by a dozen simultaneous civil wars. |
||
− | ''Loyalty has nothing to do with ethics!'' |
||
+ | The same could not be said for a well-kept royal library, which was the physical manifestation of the ruler's breadth of knowledge and their capacity for learning. |
||
− | Kaede felt her brows twitch in anger, when she spotted a change in the slaughterhouse. |
||
+ | Nevertheless, Kaede merely shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. It seemed unkind to speak her thoughts to the head maid. After all, Rachel's whole career was to maintain the palace so that it could be presented to dignitaries in its most awe-inspiring state. |
||
− | "They're trying to surrender," she pointed out to a small group in the northeast, lead by an officer who raised a jury-rigged white flag stained by blood. They numbered no more than sixty... then suddenly halved as a hailstorm of already-airborne bolts, both steel and ether, cut them down in a crossfire from multiple vectors. |
||
+ | "I guess I just find this room far more practical, and telling of the Emperor's character." The young girl added. |
||
− | Kaede sent the same words to Pascal through their link, and received only a mental tap in reply. |
||
+ | Somehow, Rachel found this surprising as her eyebrows shifted upwards. "How much do you know about the throne of Rhin-Lotharingie?" |
||
− | Werner's preoccupied gaze identified that he was also communicating to the headquarters staff, except through a maintained ''Farspeak'' spell. The concentration required to hold it steady was what kept forward signal officers out of battle. |
||
+ | "Only that it's called the 'Burning Throne'," Kaede frowned with a perplexed tilt. ''But that's just hyperbole, isn't it?'' |
||
− | "Orders from Colonel von Konopacki," Werner turned towards Karl. "Tell Major Kempff he is in now in charge of accepting surrenders on the east flank. All officers and mages are to be executed..." |
||
+ | She remembered reading mentions of it on several occasions. But each time she simply continued on without a second thought. After all, just because the Japanese Emperor had the 'Chrysanthemum Throne' didn't mean he sat on an actual throne of flowers. It was all just symbolism and embellishment. |
||
− | "WHAT!?" Kaede instantly went to glaring at the 'better' Lieutenant. ''That's a war crime! Even here!'' |
||
+ | Her moment of silence was all the answer the head maid needed. Rachel smiled knowingly as she gently ushered Kaede from the library and closed its doors. |
||
− | Haunting images of Wehrmacht crimes passed through her mind, stamped into memories from the thoughtlessness of a father's hobby: showing his kid Russian WWII documentaries since the age of seven... |
||
+ | "Follow me," the head maid spoke before leading the familiar girl down a hallway. |
||
− | "--But disarm and release the soldiers if they kept their hands up. We have no room for prisoners." |
||
+ | They turned twice before reaching the main entrance hall. Yet after her single request, Rachel did not say another word and instead wore a playful little smile as though she had a surprise planned. The Samaran girl could only follow the elderly maid in silence before they reached a double-door that had an armiger guard on each side. It was the only place outside the Emperor's presence where Kaede had met stationary guardsmen in the palace, and she felt keenly aware of their wary gazes which both fell upon her. |
||
− | The implications were simple: kill their commanders in front of them. If their spirit lay broken enough to attempt nothing, then let them go. Otherwise, slay them all. |
||
+ | However neither of the guards said anything as they each grasped a handle and pulled the heavy, wrought iron doors open. Clearly the head maid's presence was enough to satisfy them that Kaede was not trespassing. |
||
− | "Got it. YA!" Karl urged his horse to gallop down the hill, towards wherever his commander was. |
||
+ | "Do you still think it's not practical?" Rachel spoke with amusement. |
||
− | As a student of history, Kaede had to accept wars -- they were simply an inevitable act of human conflict. She would even make leeway for accidental atrocities in the heat of battle, since the aggression of warriors, once unleashed, was not easily contained. |
||
+ | Kaede had to blink her eyes in disbelief as she took in her first view of the throne room. |
||
− | ''But this is deliberate... it isn't just awful, it's outright EVIL.'' |
||
+ | The chamber itself was not exceptionally large and certainly not opulent by the standards of Earth. It was built almost entirely of polished blue granite and little else. The royal seat took its customary spot on the far end, elevated above the rest of the floor by a stone pedestal three steps high. However, what instantly drew Kaede's attention and almost made her jaw hit ground was the chair itself: |
||
− | "This is wrong!" Kaede almost shouted. "The Articles of War require that surrendering troops must be taken prisoner and offered a fair chance for ransom or exchange!" |
||
+ | It was a blocky, heavy, uncomfortable-looking stone seat that was ablaze with blue-white flames. |
||
− | "The Articles of War wasn't signed by the Northmen," Werner replied, still solemn. "They certainly didn't adhere to it when they broke through our towns' defenses." |
||
+ | It did not escape Kaede's attention that the royal chair burned in the same color as Rhin-Lotharingie's phoenixes. The embers seemed to emanate from the stone itself, and they were so bright and hot that she could almost feel the heat emanating across the room from it. |
||
− | "So we're to lower ourselves to their ''barbaric'' standards? Like the damned..." |
||
+ | ''When Pascal said only an Oriflamme may inherit the throne, I didn't think he meant it physically,'' Kaede thought. |
||
− | She almost said 'Nazis'. |
||
+ | She did not even realize that in her awestruck state, she had whispered it audibly. |
||
− | "My job is to pass orders, not to interpret them for debate," the officer continued to survey the fields without any change in expression, never even bothering to meet Kaede's gaze. |
||
+ | "There's a reason why the 'Burning Throne' is famous throughout Hyperion," Rachel spoke with pride. "It was enchanted by one of the companions of the founding emperor -- the Oriflamme Queen and artificer, Gwendolen the ''Faerie Sword''. No man or woman whose character has not been vouched by the sacred phoenixes may sit upon it. Anyone else who attempts to do so will be burned to ashes within the minute." |
||
+ | It was a sure symbol of what it took to wield the authority of the Emperor. Blood, charisma, power -- none of those were enough. Only those worthy enough to be chosen by the phoenixes could sit upon the throne of Rhin-Lotharingie. |
||
+ | Reflecting upon this, Kaede couldn't help but feel impressed by the legacy left by the nation's founders. Through a single item, they managed to create one of the most capable guarantors of their country's future. |
||
− | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
||
+ | ''At least in theory,'' she thought. After all, the succession of Rhin-Lotharingie had yet to be tested by a true crisis -- what political scientists called the <nowiki>'</nowiki>''acid test of reality''<nowiki>'</nowiki>. |
||
+ | ... |
||
− | "<u>WHAT!</u>" the mental shout left a buzz in his head. |
||
− | Pascal wondered if Kaede even realized that she just did that. |
||
+ | Kaede was far less impressed by the time she sat down at a crowded, long dining table. Apparently, the Princess had arranged for her to eat with the other servants. They also ate earlier than the usual dinner time, since many of the maids and footmen would have to serve dinner to the privy council. |
||
− | "Sir! That does not meet the operational guidelines of the Weichsel military!" He continued his firm intonation; his steely gaze locked onto two deep-brown orbs on a long, gaunt face stuck with a permanent frown. |
||
+ | ''Not that I've caught a case of contagious snobbishness, but...'' |
||
− | "There are many things in ''White Typhoon'' that does not meet our operational guidelines, and you would know them since this was your proposal in the first place! ''Captain!'' We must continue our advance at full speed, unburdened by any prisoners of war, nor divided by the need to guard over them." |
||
+ | Kaede looked through the doorway to the kitchens, where everything from roast pig to fattened goose had been prepared. The mouthwatering aroma wafted through the air and filled the servants' areas. It made the simple meat and cabbage stew she had look downright unappetizing by comparison. |
||
− | The counter was no less imperious. Its words came from Colonel Kasimir von Konopacki, once the commander of Nordkreuz forces in Marshal von Moltewitz's absence. |
||
+ | "What's wrong? Is the food not good enough for our little mistress?" A young maid who sat next to Kaede spoke. Her unfriendly tone elicited even a few jeering smiles from others. |
||
− | General von Manteuffel went ahead to personally lead the ''Phantom Gale'' company as a hunter-seeker vanguard. With Princess Sylviane's help, they roamed in advance of the main force, eliminating patrols and outposts to keep Skagen's field surveillance in the dark. In his absence, the Colonel was given command of the main body -- six companies of Weichsel Cavalry plus four more of Noble Reiters -- with precise orders of each enemy column to intercept and destroy. |
||
+ | "No, it's not that..." Kaede struggled to come up with an excuse as she pulled her eyes away from the kitchen. |
||
− | ''Apparently not precise enough,'' Pascal grumbled in his thoughts. |
||
+ | "Oh, you want your master's food. Don't worry about that. I'm sure he'll feed you some in bed later." Another maid remarked unkindly. |
||
− | At the moment, first echelon 'headquarters' was entirely mounted on horses, its officers watching the distant battle from a hilltop on the southwestern flank. Pascal had dispatched Kaede to the east side to observe, then overlaid her sight onto a corner of his own vision for a perfect view over the entire field. |
||
+ | The male servants said nothing. When Kaede caught one of the young men's gazes, he hurriedly looked away with a sudden and intense interest towards the wall clock. It was clear the handsome young footman found her attractive, which only further aggravated the maids who now took stabs at her with cutting phrases. |
||
− | ...Except right now she was staring at a signal officer. |
||
+ | "Ahem!" |
||
− | "<u>Kaede quit arguing with a ''Lieutenant'' and turn your focus back to the field,</u>" he ordered. |
||
+ | It was only thanks to Head Maid Rachel, who sat at the long table's other end, that Kaede gained a moment of reprieve. The eldly woman sent her an apologetic look before speaking to the gathered servants, who numbered just under two dozen. |
||
− | She did, but not without complaint: |
||
+ | "If you have time to chatter, you have time to eat. Be quick about it. His Majesty and the privy council will need their meal in ten minutes." |
||
− | "<u>Are you seriously agreeing to this?</u>" |
||
+ | "<Sorry about that.>" Rachel's voice then emerged in Kaede's mind. "<Her Highness is quite generous to the girls so they're very keen with her. I'm afraid they find your master's actions offensive to the Princess' honor.>" |
||
− | He didn't bother answering that; his focus was better spent against von Konopacki: |
||
+ | Clearly, the Head Maid was a mage. ''Or more precisely a yeoman,'' Kaede guessed. |
||
− | "Our orders are to ''neutralize'' each force..." |
||
+ | She reached over to her right forearm and pressed the first spell-storing rune. Her hand waved briefly at Rachel as the ''Telepathy'' spell activated. |
||
− | Pascal swung his fingers towards the slaughterhouse. |
||
+ | "<nowiki><I</nowiki> completely understand,>" Kaede replied, much to Rachel's astonishment as the old woman's eyes went wide. "<But please remember that His Grace was the one who summoned me as a familiar. I had no choice in the matter. Plus Her Highness already gave him a piece of her mind.>" |
||
− | "That enemy is broken, shattered, and ruined! They pose no threat to us now, and any survivors' morale will be shot for weeks at least. Within the objectives of this operation, we gain no benefits to killing them all, except to provoke the populace into greater resistance upon any assault." |
||
+ | "<nowiki><I'm</nowiki> glad to hear that.>" Rachel showed a satisfied smile. Clearly she agreed with the maids insofar as the Princess' honor was concerned. "<Unfortunately though, I don't think these maids understand how such magic works, nor do they care to listen. It may not be fair, but I'm afraid you'll have to bear your master's sins in this regard.>" |
||
− | The Colonel almost snorted, as though in disbelief that such rabble could constitute any worthy 'resistance'. |
||
+ | Kaede exhaled a quiet sigh. ''What else is new?'' |
||
− | "With all due respect, Sir. I quite agree with the Captain..." |
||
+ | "<When you finish, feel free to peruse the library.> Rachel then added. "<I'm sure His Majesty wouldn't mind, as he encourages us -- at least, those of us who can read -- to use it as well. I'll collect you after His Majesty's dinner is finished and show you to your quarters.>" |
||
− | The words were almost soft-spoken, yet they still contained a seeming font of conviction. They came from Lieutenant-Colonel Hans-Canaris Oster, a middle-aged commoner of moderate stature and, despite his large and balding forehead, a handsome yet unassuming visage. He was also the General's intelligence officer, left as the nominal second-in-command of the main body. |
||
− | "--The Jarls are at fault for those we kill in battle, but news of any field executions will be blamed solely upon us -- and their sons will hate us all the more for it in the years to come. Furthermore, our policies were created to encourage our enemies to surrender, instead of fighting to the last man and causing unnecessary casualties to our own. I'm sure the General would..." |
||
+ | ... |
||
− | "Fine, have it your way," the Colonel relented -- more like brushed it aside. "I've got an army to run; you can take care of the petty humanisms." |
||
− | Meanwhile, Pascal didn't waste a second. He began even before von Konopacki finished speaking, and all the better as he clearly felt Kaede's simmering anger: |
||
+ | "I realized you were bookish, but I didn't think you'd be this keen." |
||
− | "<u>Get down there and tell Major Walter Kempff to spare all officers who led a surrender. We should encourage the gutless wonders who willingly gave up their commands, not warn them off.</u>" |
||
+ | Kaede heard Rachel's amazement as she balanced the four heavy tomes in her thin arms. Her breathing was laden with exertion as she climbed up yet another rotation of the stone, circular stairway. She had already counted four stories from the second floor library. It was clear by now that Kaede's new quarters were just beneath the keep's roof. |
||
− | Lieutenant-Colonel Oster exhaled a faint sigh of relief. He turned towards the signal officers, but Pascal stopped him short. |
||
+ | ''If I knew I'd have to climb this much I wouldn't have taken so many!'' She thought. She had forgotten to bring her extra-dimensional messenger bag from the academy. It didn't help now that she couldn't see her own footing on the steep staircase, which made her take even longer than usual to climb. |
||
− | "I got it." |
||
+ | Unfortunately for her, Rachel also wasn't interested in helping like Pascal did back at the academy. Kaede couldn't blame the woman either. Stairs were treacherous and the head maid was already of elderly age. |
||
− | "<u>Surrendering isn't necessarily cowardi...</u>" Kaede's reactive backlash soon trailed off. |
||
+ | ''Finally!'' Kaede's mind cried out in joy as they reached the last landing. Rachel opened the heavy door for her as they walked into the hallway for the servants' bedrooms. |
||
− | ''About time.'' |
||
− | |||
− | "<u>Quit being emotional and use your head,</u>" Pascal reprimanded as he returned the Lieutenant-Colonel's appreciative nod. "<u>Inform them in Lieutenant-Colonel Oster's, and by extension, General von Manteuffel's name. Oster happens to agree with me.</u>" |
||
− | |||
− | "<u>Yes Sir,</u>" she replied. "<u>And thank you.</u>" |
||
− | |||
− | Although in Pascal's opinion, the decision had never been one of morality, nor did he feel strongly for the ethics involved. It was rational, even ''intelligent'' to spare those who surrendered. The total annihilation of an enemy force may look better on paper, but such shortsightedness was undoubtedly foolish in the long term: |
||
− | |||
− | "<u>Colonel von Konopacki may be a skilled tactician, but he is a political numskull and hence will never become a general. There is no purpose in igniting more anger when we could avoid it; only the Imperials would benefit from that.</u>" |
||
− | |||
− | |||
− | |||
− | <nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki> |
||
− | |||
− | |||
− | |||
− | "Atten-tion!" |
||
− | |||
− | Gerd Kessler snapped his heels together, alongside forty-six other officer cadets in black-on-burning-red uniforms. They made up two entire graduating classes of Phantoms-in-training from the Königsfeld Academy, newly arrived at Nordkreuz to be sent forth into battle. |
||
− | |||
− | The old man -- well, not actually as old as he looked -- who stepped up onto the podium was Colonel Sir Erwin von Hammerstein. Even with his wrinkled cheeks neatly shaved and wearing a spiffy uniform, the Colonel still looked like a bandit plucked out of the mountains: ferocious, bulging eyes that could scare a recruit by mere glance, a big mouth whose toothy grin wavered between contagious and frightening, and coarse, darkly tanned skin that belonged to a farmhand more than any aristocrat. The man was neither tall nor strongly built, but his homely face alone was more than enough to leave an impression. |
||
− | |||
− | He was also a legend in the Weichsel military, especially among the lower ranks. Had anyone asked for the bravest and most daring commander, no soldier would point their fingers anywhere except at him. |
||
− | |||
− | ...But it wasn't all a compliment. |
||
− | |||
− | Erwin von Hammerstein was known for his fearlessness, not only towards the enemy, but also to his own superiors. It was why that despite his thoroughly impressive battle record over a century of service, the man was still a mere Colonel. To him, leading a charge came as easy as whipping a subordinate or disobeying an order. If it weren't for the chestful of medals he collected, his equivalent number of demerits would have sent him to court martial long ago. |
||
− | |||
− | "Talk about a bunch of scrawny-ass dew-dripping sprouts..." |
||
− | |||
− | The lines across his brow easily tripled while his big mouth turned into a deep, downward curve. |
||
− | |||
− | "I'm sure you all know me -- Colonel Erwin von Hammerstein here. People call me anything in-between the 'daredevil' and the 'pillory celebrity', and chances are everything you've heard about me is true, except I don't have any extra heads or digits..." |
||
− | |||
− | A few cadets lost their composure and chuckled. Two of them even snorted; one of them being Reynald. |
||
− | |||
− | Gerd could almost see little glittering stars in his friend's eyes. The boy worshiped way too many heroes. |
||
− | |||
− | "I'm here today on a simple matter," von Hammerstein continued in his gruff voice. "The late Marshal, Father bless his soul, had assembled a new unit of Phantoms two years ago. Problem is, they're no knights, not even cadets... Yes son?" |
||
− | |||
− | A fourth year that Gerd didn't recognize lowered his upright hand and spoke out: |
||
− | |||
− | "By the laws of Weichsel, only the King may create a formation of Knights Phantom." |
||
− | |||
− | "Yes I've got your permission and paperwork right here, ye damn lawyer," the Colonel waved the stack in his hand before putting them back down. "And Holy Father forbid that you should listen; I said they ain't no knights. They're trained in the Phantom's ways, but not to your standards. Reason is a simple one: the last war showed that we could always use more Phantoms, but we don't have enough nobles to go around. So these fresh greens are all yeoman instead..." |
||
− | |||
− | Some of the cadets started murmuring in discontent, and Gerd could feel his blood-flow speeding up. Like any other branch of the Weichsel military, there were officers of yeoman origin -- commoners blessed by magic -- in the Knights Phantom. But they had to earn the lowest rank of nobility, a Knight's Cross at least, to be accepted for training. Gerd himself was a rare exception, 'recognized' only due to Parzifal's insistence and his own top scores. |
||
− | |||
− | "But our shortage in officers is even worse, hence why I'm here to ask for your support. We need platoon leaders, and I need a sidekick, all ranked straight up to Junior Lieutenants." |
||
− | |||
− | "Sir!" Another fourth year spoke up, rather smugly too: "we're officer cadets. We're guaranteed Junior Lieutenants or higher upon the campaign's completion, which is also the lowest ranking for any ''proper'' Knight Phantom. Why should we devaluate ourselves to a lesser unit?" |
||
− | |||
− | "...Especially one that probably won't see any action this war," a third-year girl named Hannah von Gerd-couldn't-give-a-damn chipped in. |
||
− | |||
− | "All you vainglorious, ladder-climbing bastards can get out of my face," von Hammerstein growled. "I want you punks no more than cowards and deserters." |
||
− | |||
− | Most of the cadets paid just enough respect towards the authority of his Colonel rank to wait out his last syllable before strutting away, insulted and angry. Knowing about the man's foul mouth was one thing; experiencing its receiving end? Something else entirely. |
||
− | |||
− | "And this is the so-called elitest of the elite, all fracking five of you," he scanned over them like a lion observing gazelles, then snorted as he came across Ariadne. "A blood-be-damned Manteuffel too. I'd thought you'd be first to clear out." |
||
− | |||
− | "My pride isn't so cheap to be insulted by meager and ungrounded provocation, Sir!" |
||
− | |||
− | Yet there was definitely anger in her voice, buttressed by a staunch refusal to leave the battleground. It was apparent enough that even Gerd -- who Reynald often mocked as 'oblivious to barnhouses' -- could sense. |
||
− | |||
− | The girl might exemplify many virtues, but having rhinoceros skin wasn't one of them. |
||
− | |||
− | "So why'd you stay? Why join up?" |
||
− | |||
− | "Any soldier could join a famous unit, Sir!" Ariadne stared back with unerring challenge. "It takes a true knight to ''forge'' one themselves. As green as these troopers may be, I highly doubt any unit assembled by the Marshal and drilled by yourself lacks potential!" |
||
− | |||
− | And then, it happened. The famous one-eighty, as Colonel von Hammerstein's mouth went from downward half-circle frown to upward half-moon grin in an instant. |
||
− | |||
− | "Spoken like a true man!" He lauded, despite facing someone who was anything but male. |
||
− | |||
− | Ariadne looked like her facial muscles had been petrified, but the Colonel already went on to his next target: |
||
− | |||
− | "What about you Gerd? After fighting tooth and nail to jump on the bandwagon? What would your benefactor say now?" |
||
− | |||
− | The young man smirked back. It was a pleasant surprise that the Colonel knew his name and background without ever meeting him. Whatever roughneck image von Hammerstein might like to cultivate, the man certainly did his homework. |
||
− | |||
− | But if bluntness was how the old geezer liked it, then Gerd would gladly play ball by the same rules: |
||
− | |||
− | "I never gave a rat's ass about prestige to begin with, Sir! I just want a cavalryman's opportunity to prove myself, and nothing better than to do it alongside others of my own kind!" |
||
− | |||
− | Colonel von Hammerstein settled for a toothy nod this time, before moving down the line: |
||
− | |||
− | "And you, Reynald?" |
||
− | |||
− | "Not to burst your bubble, Sir, but I don't frankly care for the unit," the short redhead shrugged, oddly uncaring for one whose eyes were lit by idolatry just moments prior. "I'm just joining up to watch my friends' backs." |
||
− | |||
− | "Good reason as any!" the Colonel boomed. "Lydia?" |
||
− | |||
− | Gerd had never paid attention to the petite girl before, other than knowing that she was in fourth-year and held a demure yet thoughtful look. At one-sixty-four (5'4") and of fragile appearance, she was probably the smallest of the Knights Phantom cadets. Her pale skin and cute nose almost resembled a plainer version of Cecylia, except with hazel-brown eyes and wavy, chocolate-brown hair, its short tips just barely draped over thin shoulders. |
||
− | |||
− | It was actually rather hard to find a girl with short hair in the academy, where flowing long tresses were considered both a sign of femininity and wealth. Gerd found that to be a personal shame -- short hairstyles were so much cuter. He even had many heated debates with Reynald over the topic, although his friend often childed his tastes as 'bland'. |
||
− | |||
− | "To learn from one of the best unit commanders in the history of Weichsel, Sir." |
||
− | |||
− | "Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere, but accepted!" |
||
− | |||
− | Ever though Colonel von Hammerstein said that, his grin still stretched from ear to ear when Lydia offered her response. |
||
− | |||
− | "Last up, Kayeten!" |
||
− | |||
− | Kayeten was one of those young men who lacked even a single impressionable feature. He was of average height, modest build, with an utterly plain face where not even faded-green eyes managed to stand out. Yet, if Gerd's memory served, the name 'Kayeten von Krupinski' consistently made the top six ranks in performance among the fourth-year class. |
||
− | |||
− | "I agree with both Ariadne and Lydia, Sir!" |
||
− | |||
− | "So long as you're agreeing with them and not skirt-chasing." |
||
− | |||
− | "Not a chance Sir," Kayeten answered without even a second of pause. "I already have a fiancée back at home." |
||
− | |||
− | Both Gerd and Reynald stared at him with gaping expressions that went "''seriously''?" |
||
− | |||
− | ''Stupid noble blood,'' Gerd thought bitterly. ''What does that generic man have that I don't?'' |
||
− | |||
− | "Well I hope you kids are up to the task," the Colonel continued. "Ariadne, you're promoted to full Lieutenant as my second. Gerd and Kayeten, you two are raised to full L.T. as well; take charge of second and third platoons. Lydia, you'll be Gerd's second. And Reynald, you'll lead the recon squad. Any questions?" |
||
− | |||
− | Gerd smiled cheerily. ''Rank and half of promotion; too bad for those picky highborns who left early.'' |
||
− | |||
− | Meanwhile the ladies' hands shot up, and Lydia was picked first. |
||
− | |||
− | "Why am I under him?" |
||
− | |||
− | ''Well, at least you didn't straight up say 'the commoner''', Gerd decided to give her some credit. |
||
− | |||
− | "Take it up with your meh grades," the thuggish-looking commander answered simply before pointing towards Ariadne. |
||
− | |||
− | "If you're lacking support officers, I'd like to request a transfer for Parzifal Sigismund von Seydlitz der Chevallerie. He's the best healer in our class and will gladly accept." |
||
− | |||
− | "Who is this, your lover?" |
||
− | |||
− | Ariadne looked like she just bit into a rock. But before she even had a chance to say anything, it was Reynald who countered: |
||
− | |||
− | "He's my best friend. I'd prefer that you do not insult his character and honor, Sir. Otherwise I'd be forced to challenge you to a duel." |
||
− | |||
− | "And you think you'll win?" Colonel von Hammerstein sent a half-derisive half-amused smirk. |
||
− | |||
− | Which the young man returned in kind: |
||
− | |||
− | "I have a perfect record." |
||
− | |||
− | The old commander made an odd snorting sound. |
||
− | |||
− | "Don't forget those words when I take you up on it. But we've got a war to win right now, son, so save it for the enemy." He then turned to Ariadne: "I take back my comment, Miss von Zimmer-Manteuffel, and I'll see what I can do." |
||
− | |||
− | Ariadne merely nodded back, her meadow-green eyes still burning with the fury of a prairie fire. |
||
− | |||
− | ''Well, aren't we off to just a peachy start,'' Gerd thought. |
||
− | |||
− | |||
− | ... |
||
+ | "This hallway is for the maids only. Men are not allowed up here, and that includes your master." The head maid explained the rules. "I will be turning the hall's lights off by eleven, though you may use a candle after that if needed. Breakfast is at six tomorrow morning. I suggest you get up early if you're interested in the leftovers from the privy council's dinner -- the boys have voracious appetites and will devour the remnants faster than carrion. You may plan tomorrow's day as you like otherwise." |
||
+ | Clearly, Princess Sylviane was intent on treating Kaede like any other servant. However, Rachel also didn't know what to do with her since she wasn't a palace maid. This unfortunately left Kaede in limbo, where she would have to live with the other servants, yet couldn't find acceptance among them through working together. |
||
− | Kaede glanced at the contemplative Pascal in the 'Instant Cabin' they shared. The tiny room deployed from a cube that could fit in her... well, his palm. She didn't even complain about sharing a bed again, since it was infinitely better than any tent in this snowstorm. |
||
+ | ''This sucks.'' Kaede complained to herself, just before Rachel opened the door to her assigned bedroom. |
||
− | "What is it?" She asked, less from curiosity and more an attempt to distract herself from brooding thoughts. |
||
+ | "I thought it would be best to give you your own bedroom, instead of sharing with one of the other maids. Unfortunately this room hasn't been used in a long time, and we've had no time today to give it a cleaning." |
||
− | "Parzifal, Ariadne, Reynald, and Gerd all signed up under one command," Pascal turned towards her with his soup bowl in hand. "It is the new Grenadiers Phantom unit father created in secret, probably to avoid opposition from the Knights Phantom until they were ready. Colonel von Hammerstein was shrewd enough to put Ariadne as his second-in-command, which stopped any lingering doubts from General von Manteuffel over its deployment." |
||
+ | The room was simple enough: two single beds, two small dressers, two chairs, and one desk by the window. However the stifling air supported Rachel's words that this room had laid empty for far too long. The furniture and windowsill even collected a layer of visible dust. The beds also lay buried under boxes and various assorted items as the place had been used as a storage room. |
||
− | "Well... of course. He'd want to give Ariadne the chance to excel, being head of her clan and all." |
||
+ | "Not a problem. I can clean it up. Thank you." Kaede said as she laid the books down on the desk's only empty corner. |
||
− | Pascal nodded back as he took another bite of 'beef stew'; more like jerky and spiced vegetables boiled in snow. |
||
+ | She had forced a smile to her lips. However it was difficult to sound enthusiastic when she felt so disappointed inside. |
||
− | "Yes. But von Hammerstein also requested a company name to boost morale -- that is standard for Knight Phantom companies, except they are not knightly. Command seemed hesitant to hand one down, so I am trying to think up of something for them to push." |
||
+ | ''What did I expect? That the Princess would let me use one of her guest rooms?'' Kaede tried not to scowl, as Sylviane's message in these arrangements was not lost on her. ''She clearly wants me to know my place -- that I'm just a servant.'' |
||
− | Kaede gave it a quick thought. Given the Phantoms' modus operandi, the answer seemed quite simple: |
||
+ | "Her Highness also found you a more ''appropriate'' outfit." Rachel stressed the word as though she didn't agree at all. She gestured towards a frilly dress that had been laid out on the bed's only available surface. "One of the maids can help you with any adjustments you need to it tomorrow. Though I expect you'll find it a perfect fit. You do have the exact same height and build as Lady Vivienne whom this dress was originally made for." |
||
− | "In my world, there was once a famous formation that advanced so quickly through enemy lines that neither friend nor foe could keep track of it. They called it the ''Ghost Division''..." she paused briefly as dark clouds descended upon her thoughts once more. "Think this unit could live up to that name?" |
||
+ | ''So 'Vivi' really is Vivienne,'' Kaede thought. It was ''almost'' enough to confirm her hypothesis: that the girl whom Sylviane treated as a dress-up doll was none other than Rhin-Lotharingie's youngest Paladin. |
||
− | "With that madman in charge? Not a single doubt," Pascal's grin stretched across his face. "''Ghost Riders'' it is then." |
||
+ | "Thank you. I appreciate it." The Samaran girl tried to sound like she meant it, but she doubted that Rachel was fooled. |
||
− | She forced a wry smile back. It would take time for her to make peace with a different type of ghost -- the haunting sight of over seven hundred dead and wounded strewn across snowy plains dyed a bloody red. |
||
+ | "I believe that is all." The Head Maid concluded. "I've told the other maids not to bother you, so you shouldn't be disturbed as long as you're in here. You may need one of us to help in getting dressed tomorrow though. I live just down the hallway, first room from the entrance to the right. Knock if you have any further needs." |
||
− | True to what Parzifal spoke of the Healers' Oath, the Weichsel medical squads attached to every company did their best for friend and foe alike once the battle was over. Even Kaede contributed where she could, but they were only given limited time before the army had to move on. |
||
+ | "Thank you." Kaede nodded. "And have a good night." |
||
− | In the midst of winter and far from the nearest settlement, those who sustained major injuries would soon join the dead. |
||
+ | "Good night Miss Kaede." Rachel smiled warmly before she exited the door and closed it behind her. |
||
− | ...The field of corpses. |
||
+ | Kaede's forced smile vanished instantly as she collapsed onto the bed where her new outfit had been placed. She sighed deeply as she exhaled all of the dejection she felt inside. |
||
− | "Something has been bothering you," Pascal stared with worry. "You have barely touched your dinner." |
||
+ | ''Pascal... you idiot.'' She thought. ''Why'd you have to summon me into a girl's body?'' |
||
− | "It's nothing, don't worry about it," Kaede replied without looking. |
||
+ | Everyone spoke of the Princess' kindness, except Kaede didn't feel an ounce of it thanks to Sylviane's apparent jealousy. |
||
− | There was no such thing as being 'underhanded' in war, for what were 'tactics' and 'strategy' but ways to cheat the system? |
||
+ | It took her a few minutes before she finally forced herself to stand. It took even longer for her to clear out her bed and move all the miscellaneous items to the spare. The room was still cluttered and messy but that couldn't be helped. She would have to air and dust the place tomorrow, but for tonight she would just have to manage. |
||
− | But 'ethics' weren't the same thing. |
||
+ | Returning to sit upon her bed, Kaede lifted the one-piece dress that had been prepared for her. It was lavender with soft-pink accents, and had an extravagant amount of frills and laces which gave it a 'lolita' feel. Its tiered, ankle-length skirt alone contained over a half dozen layers with all its petticoats, including a crinoline. Meanwhile the frilled top was an off-shoulder design, held up by halter straps and translucent chiffon-lace that connected to a wide choker around the neck. |
||
− | ''We can't cheat conscience.'' |
||
+ | None of that though was intolerable. Instead, it was the built-in corset that filled Kaede with dread and made her groan. |
||
− | A soldier needed not just the conviction to win, but also the will to achieve victory through correct means. |
||
+ | ''So the Princess can strangle me with it.'' The familiar girl mulled as she tugged at the laces. |
||
− | ''Pascal did his best today,'' she decided. ''The rest are my own problems.'' |
||
+ | With another sigh, Kaede decided there was nothing to do but sleep. She wasn't in the mood for much reading tonight. And she did want to wake up early tomorrow so there was still sumptuous food to be had. |
||
− | Kaede knew it would be yet another long and sleepless night. |
||
Latest revision as of 21:35, 27 February 2022
Chapter 6 - The Third Wheel[edit]
Kaede loitered in the castle as the dusk sky dimmed outside. Sylviane had dragged Pascal off to the Emperor's privy council meeting. However unlike the war council earlier, the privy council was a much more limited affair. There also wasn't any tradition of bringing in junior lieutenants.
Even Queens didn't usually attend privy council sessions, Kaede reflected from Earth history. It would be unusual if Pascal brought me.
Nevertheless, it made her feel like an unwanted outsider again. Pascal and Sylviane were a pair in more ways than one. Apart from being the next royal couple of Rhin-Lotharingie, they were both talented if not brilliant in their own way. Both of them were also willful and determined to shape the future of their countries. It was as though the two of them were fated to leave their mark on history.
Meanwhile... I'm just some average student from Japan. Kaede sighed.
Well, that wasn't exactly true. She could at least justify being 'above average'. She had been accepted by one of the best universities in the world, and she had spent her formative years debating history and international relations with her father, a university professor in history.
While Kaede's friends indulged themselves in romcom fiction or action manga, she was consuming world history and treatises on geopolitics. Her celebrities were world leaders and statesmen. Her heroes were great thinkers who applied history to shape the world: men like the Cold War strategist George Kennan, the cultural-political scientist Samuel Huntington, and of course, the 'grand master' of geopolitics Lee Kuan Yew.
It had always left her a bit of an outcast in pop-culture discussions. It was part of why while Kaede had plenty of acquaintances in school, there were few whom he could call a true friend.
The Samaran girl sighed again as she strode up to yet another painting and examined it. The beautifully-detailed artwork had a frame as wide as a dining room and ran from hip-high to almost reach the ceiling. Like all the others found in the Oriflamme Palace, its focus was another paladin of Rhin-Lotharingie -- this time a lean-shouldered, handsome, if somewhat effeminate young man. Clad in mail armor, the paladin sprouted flame-feathered phoenix wings and glowed in a halo of white-blue flames. He flew above the ground with his armigers, leading far ahead of a massive charge of mixed cavalry and heavy, wagon-like chariots.
Are those... mongols with cannons?
Kaede examined the 'enemy' painted in ominous grey. The flanks were predominantly light cavalry, with many pulling back recurve bows. However the center was mostly infantry carrying wooden planks with small iron tubes affixed to them. Interspersed among them were wheeled, wooden platforms that carried a black, metallic tube. One of them even belched forth flames as the primitive bombard unleashed its shot.
"Leslie Eachann Barclay of Tollaigh, Voivode of Dvina." Kaede muttered as she knelt down to inspect the label inscribed onto the frame's bottom.
According to the Lotharin history books she read, Leslie the Paladin was a mercenary captain from the clans of Gleann Mòr. He joined the Grand Republic of Samara's predecessor state in repelling an invasion from the east. At the time, almost nobody knew of him back in the Rhin-Lotharingie lands, even though he clearly did well in establishing himself as a 'Voivode' -- which on Earth was an Eastern European name for a ducal-level military commander.
His fame only spread to his homeland three centuries later, when it was Leslie's legacy which brought in a Samaran expeditionary force to aid the Lotharins during the Rhin-Lotharingie Independence War. Today, Leslie's name was known even among children. Their rhymes sang of Leslie's blessing which brought hope during difficult times.
It was hard to tell if anyone on Leslie's side in the painting was a Samaran since they mostly wore helmets. However as Kaede combed through the allied ranks, she did spot a young lady with flowing white hair. The girl stood on top of one of the leading heavy chariots. Her hands steadied the scorpion-like light artillery affixed to the wagon-bed while her companion loaded the weapon.
"You like the painting?"
Kaede turned as she stood up. Her eyes met the gaze of a smiling, elderly maid. The wrinkled old woman was thinly built and dressed in elegant black and white. Though the small, bejeweled hairpin that she wore in her french-bun showed that she was no common servant.
"Yes. I'm no connoisseur of paintings, but its history fascinates me." Kaede answered before realizing that she had better identify herself, lest they treat her as an intruder in the palace. "Sorry, I'm Kaede, the familiar of Landgrave Pascal von Moltewitz of Nordkreuz."
"Yes, I know." The matron replied warmly. "I'm Head Maid Rachel. Her Highness Princess Sylviane asked me to come find and bring you to dinner."
Kaede's stomach growled as if on cue. It brought a sheepish smile to the Samaran girl's lips. Apart from a few pastries that Sylviane had requested in the royal sitting room, Kaede hadn't eaten since breakfast back at the academy. The winter sun set early so they were only entering dinnertime. Nevertheless Kaede felt famished now that she was no longer distracted by historical artworks.
"I'm afraid the food isn't quite ready yet," Rachel smiled back. "Is there anything you would like to know about these paintings while we wait for a few more minutes? I happen to also serve as a curator in my secondary role."
Kaede's eyebrows rose. That... sort of makes sense, actually.
She had noticed that Emperor Geoffroi clearly did not believe in hiring many servants. Kaede wasn't sure if this was because of frugality or the need to reduce palace expenditures. However it definitely felt like the royal court had less attendants than Alisia Academy, and certainly less than any palace from Earth as shown in historical dramas.
"I've read about Leslie the Paladin in books but... to see a scene of it depicted in such grand detail. It's... awe inspiring." Kaede tried to describe her feelings as she looked over the huge painting. "Was this an actual battle that Leslie commanded?"
"Commanded? No. This painting depicts the Second Battle of Desna River." Rachel explained as she pointed out the blue streak that could just be seen behind the friendly cavalry. "It's a visualization of the climatic moment, when Leslie the Paladin joined Lidiya the White Rose as they led the charge of the elite Polisian, and later Samaran, 2nd Guards Cavalry Brigade against the Great Khan's Divine Engine Division."
The head maid then grinned proudly. "His Majesty always said that this battle forever changed world history."
Kaede frowned. It was strange to see a battle in Hyperion where large numbers of gunpowder weapons were employed. In all of Kaede's research for Pascal, she hadn't read a single one.
"I presume it has something to do with this Divine Engine Division and their gun... blast powder weapons?"
"Yes." Rachel confirmed Kaede's suspicions. "They were an experimental formation originally established by the eastern Dawn Imperium. The unit was later enlisted by the Great Khan after he all but vanquished that eastern superpower, having conquered it at least for a few decades. The Dawn Imperium has a tendency to bounce back as a superpower after every calamity, even if it takes them a century or two."
They're definitely the China of this world, Kaede concluded.
"The division was recorded to be armed with a variety of weapons including mortars, grenades, hand-cannons, bombards, and uhh... I think these were called 'rockets'." She highlighted the trails of smoke that flew over the battlefield, even as streaks of mana rushed up from the friendly forces to intercept them."
Kaede could feel her curiosity growing more and more. "What happened exactly?"
"Leslie had volunteered to lead the vanguard attack before the main charge." The Head Maid answered. "Since blast powder is volatile and an Oriflamme burns the very air around them, the soldiers caught fire one after another and their 'divine engines' exploded. The Polisian cavalry then poured through the collapsing center and broke the Easterners' battle line. It was a complete disaster for the forces of the Great Khan and it turned the tide of the war."
"Is that why the Emperor said the battle forever changed history?" Kaede asked, though she could already guess at the answer.
"No." Rachel shook her head. "His Majesty said that this battle was the first and last time blast powder would play a decisive role on the battlefield. After this, no army would rely upon such a volatile technology. Therefore despite their potential, blast powder weapons would, at best, be used in a supporting role."
Sounds like the Emperor is a student of history as well.
Kaede knew that on Earth, early gunpowder weapons were often considered questionably useful due to their low accuracy and tendency to explode. Even as late as the Napoleonic Wars, gunpowder's susceptibility to the elements meant exposure to rain could cripple an army. In a world where every mage was capable of conjuring fire and water, gunpowder weapons were never given the opportunity to evolve. Its innovation had been stifled long before sealed cartridges could be developed, which took centuries of use in warfare even back on Earth.
"Does His Majesty read many books?" Kaede inquired.
"Oh yes, His Majesty is a voracious reader. Even back when the late Empress blessed these halls with her grace, his books would cost the palace more gold per year than her jewels and dresses." Rachel gave a nostalgic smile. "Would you like to see the library?"
"I'd sure like to know where it is. Though I probably shouldn't distract myself further before dinner."
"Certainly. Please follow me." Rachel announced before leading Kaede down the hallway.
"What kind of person was the late Empress?" Kaede added in curiosity of Princess Sylviane's mother. It's said that while fathers taught skill and determination, it was the mother who shaped a child's morale character.
"She was a kind and gentle woman, if a bit too... innocent, for the intrigues of the court," Rachel reminiscenced. "She had dedicated her life to bringing up her three children, to be upright, industrious, and dedicated. It's such a great injustice what happened to her and the two princes."
Kaede had heard from Pascal that Sylviane had lost her mother and both elder brothers to Imperial Mantis Blade assassins. It was merely another example of the deep, blood-soaked hatred between the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie and the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea.
"It's been over a decade since her death and His Majesty has never even shown an inkling of interest in remarrying." Rachel noted sadly. "He has even kept her old room exactly the way it was. Some say it's because her fae magic melded the Emperor's soul to her own, and when she left she took a part of him with her. I think it's simply because His Majesty loves her that much."
"Fae magic?" Kaede's eyebrows rose as they turned to another hallway.
It was the second time she heard the phrase spoken today.
"Yes. The late Empress was a faekissed, the daughter of a minor earl from Ceredigion." Rachel began to explain, clearly realizing that Kaede had never heard of them before. "The faekissed are descendants of the faerie lords, whose rule over these lands is described in the ancient Book of Invasions. During the height of their power, they had dominated all of Western Hyperion as far as the reaches of modern day Samara. However, for reasons unknown, they have since retreated through the portals back to their world. All that remains of them today are the stone rings, the faekissed, and the various artifacts that could be found throughout the land -- like the armor Her Highness wears."
"I would never have guessed," Kaede muttered in astonishment. "I mean... she looks so human!"
But then, perhaps Kaede shouldn't be surprised. After all, she herself had a Samaran body, yet the only way to tell from external appearance was her snowy-white hair. Meanwhile Cecylia was a dhampir, a heritaged shown only in her gaze. Even the Princess' purple hair didn't mean much, as many mages had tresses dyed by the color of their mana, for instance Ariadne's floral-pink hair.
It was only then that Kaede realized that she was being rude. However Rachel at least took no offense as the old maid simply chuckled:
"It's been several thousand years since the faerie lords left our world. That's several dozen generations, even with the longevity given by the blessing of magic. Most faekissed have but a drop of fae blood in them today. Though even that blood is enough to make a big difference from most humans."
"Could you tell me about some of those differences?"
The head maid looked back and smiled. "You're a real scholar aren't you? The questions just don't stop coming."
"Ah, sorry..."
"No, I'm happy to answer. You're just not what I expected." Rachel answered as she turned back and kept on walking. "Just like her mother, Her Highness is an autumnborn. As the name implies, she was born in October, and Fall is her favorite time of the year -- she could spend hours just watching the leaves fall outside. She also has absolutely dreadful spring allergies, and tends to be moody and irritable during that season."
So, walk on eggshells around her then. Kaede made a mental note.
After all, it wasn't like she was asking merely out of curiosity. Relationship building benefited from research and planning just like any other activity. Professionals like diplomats usually began their task by seeking an understanding of the other side's background and temperament. And while Kaede normally wouldn't go this far, she knew that as long as she stayed with Pascal, managing her relationship with the Princess will be one of her greatest challenges.
"The autumnborn favor acumen," Rachel continued in the meantime, "though they're not as logical as their cold and stoic winter brethren. They also have a tendency to get jealous, though they're never as passionate as their summer kin. They dislike airheads above all, probably due to their rivalry with spring. Though I'd say you're in no danger of that."
And I thank every buddha for this small blessing.
"And here we are, the royal library." Rachel announced as she pushed open a pair of wooden, double doors. "It's not quite as grand as the one at the Alisia Academy where you were living. But I'd say you'll find plenty to read here."
For a brief moment Kaede stared in awe as she eyed the rows upon rows of bookshelves. There was enough here to make even a modern public library proud. Furthermore, unlike the massive collection at the Alisia Academy of Magic, this library was meant for the royal family's personal use. Its size and abundance certainly showed just how many rulers of the Gaetane dynasty were of erudite character.
"You know, in all my years, you are the first individual who is more interested in His Majesty's library than his throne room." Rachel spoke with amusement as she watched the young girl's reaction.
"The throne?" Kaede turned towards the head maid with raised eyebrows. It's just a fancy chair, isn't it?
Kaede had seen enough thrones on Earth to know that they were always magnificent and opulent and often downright excessive. From the Winter Palace to the Kyoto Imperial Palace to the Palace of Versailles, the thrones of Kings and Emperors were always purposefully set up to make anyone who stood before them feel awe and a sense of insignificance by comparison.
However, when one peeled away all the unnecessary pomp and pretentiousness, the throne was always just a room with a seat. Everything else was just an illusion of grandeur, as even the most grandiose throne in the world provided little meaningful value to the well-being of a nation-state. The garish colors of the Chrysanthemum Throne was certainly less than worthless during Japan's Sengoku Jidai, as it became a focal point of conflict inside a fracturing nation, torn asunder by a dozen simultaneous civil wars.
The same could not be said for a well-kept royal library, which was the physical manifestation of the ruler's breadth of knowledge and their capacity for learning.
Nevertheless, Kaede merely shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. It seemed unkind to speak her thoughts to the head maid. After all, Rachel's whole career was to maintain the palace so that it could be presented to dignitaries in its most awe-inspiring state.
"I guess I just find this room far more practical, and telling of the Emperor's character." The young girl added.
Somehow, Rachel found this surprising as her eyebrows shifted upwards. "How much do you know about the throne of Rhin-Lotharingie?"
"Only that it's called the 'Burning Throne'," Kaede frowned with a perplexed tilt. But that's just hyperbole, isn't it?
She remembered reading mentions of it on several occasions. But each time she simply continued on without a second thought. After all, just because the Japanese Emperor had the 'Chrysanthemum Throne' didn't mean he sat on an actual throne of flowers. It was all just symbolism and embellishment.
Her moment of silence was all the answer the head maid needed. Rachel smiled knowingly as she gently ushered Kaede from the library and closed its doors.
"Follow me," the head maid spoke before leading the familiar girl down a hallway.
They turned twice before reaching the main entrance hall. Yet after her single request, Rachel did not say another word and instead wore a playful little smile as though she had a surprise planned. The Samaran girl could only follow the elderly maid in silence before they reached a double-door that had an armiger guard on each side. It was the only place outside the Emperor's presence where Kaede had met stationary guardsmen in the palace, and she felt keenly aware of their wary gazes which both fell upon her.
However neither of the guards said anything as they each grasped a handle and pulled the heavy, wrought iron doors open. Clearly the head maid's presence was enough to satisfy them that Kaede was not trespassing.
"Do you still think it's not practical?" Rachel spoke with amusement.
Kaede had to blink her eyes in disbelief as she took in her first view of the throne room.
The chamber itself was not exceptionally large and certainly not opulent by the standards of Earth. It was built almost entirely of polished blue granite and little else. The royal seat took its customary spot on the far end, elevated above the rest of the floor by a stone pedestal three steps high. However, what instantly drew Kaede's attention and almost made her jaw hit ground was the chair itself:
It was a blocky, heavy, uncomfortable-looking stone seat that was ablaze with blue-white flames.
It did not escape Kaede's attention that the royal chair burned in the same color as Rhin-Lotharingie's phoenixes. The embers seemed to emanate from the stone itself, and they were so bright and hot that she could almost feel the heat emanating across the room from it.
When Pascal said only an Oriflamme may inherit the throne, I didn't think he meant it physically, Kaede thought.
She did not even realize that in her awestruck state, she had whispered it audibly.
"There's a reason why the 'Burning Throne' is famous throughout Hyperion," Rachel spoke with pride. "It was enchanted by one of the companions of the founding emperor -- the Oriflamme Queen and artificer, Gwendolen the Faerie Sword. No man or woman whose character has not been vouched by the sacred phoenixes may sit upon it. Anyone else who attempts to do so will be burned to ashes within the minute."
It was a sure symbol of what it took to wield the authority of the Emperor. Blood, charisma, power -- none of those were enough. Only those worthy enough to be chosen by the phoenixes could sit upon the throne of Rhin-Lotharingie.
Reflecting upon this, Kaede couldn't help but feel impressed by the legacy left by the nation's founders. Through a single item, they managed to create one of the most capable guarantors of their country's future.
At least in theory, she thought. After all, the succession of Rhin-Lotharingie had yet to be tested by a true crisis -- what political scientists called the 'acid test of reality'.
...
Kaede was far less impressed by the time she sat down at a crowded, long dining table. Apparently, the Princess had arranged for her to eat with the other servants. They also ate earlier than the usual dinner time, since many of the maids and footmen would have to serve dinner to the privy council.
Not that I've caught a case of contagious snobbishness, but...
Kaede looked through the doorway to the kitchens, where everything from roast pig to fattened goose had been prepared. The mouthwatering aroma wafted through the air and filled the servants' areas. It made the simple meat and cabbage stew she had look downright unappetizing by comparison.
"What's wrong? Is the food not good enough for our little mistress?" A young maid who sat next to Kaede spoke. Her unfriendly tone elicited even a few jeering smiles from others.
"No, it's not that..." Kaede struggled to come up with an excuse as she pulled her eyes away from the kitchen.
"Oh, you want your master's food. Don't worry about that. I'm sure he'll feed you some in bed later." Another maid remarked unkindly.
The male servants said nothing. When Kaede caught one of the young men's gazes, he hurriedly looked away with a sudden and intense interest towards the wall clock. It was clear the handsome young footman found her attractive, which only further aggravated the maids who now took stabs at her with cutting phrases.
"Ahem!"
It was only thanks to Head Maid Rachel, who sat at the long table's other end, that Kaede gained a moment of reprieve. The eldly woman sent her an apologetic look before speaking to the gathered servants, who numbered just under two dozen.
"If you have time to chatter, you have time to eat. Be quick about it. His Majesty and the privy council will need their meal in ten minutes."
"<Sorry about that.>" Rachel's voice then emerged in Kaede's mind. "<Her Highness is quite generous to the girls so they're very keen with her. I'm afraid they find your master's actions offensive to the Princess' honor.>"
Clearly, the Head Maid was a mage. Or more precisely a yeoman, Kaede guessed.
She reached over to her right forearm and pressed the first spell-storing rune. Her hand waved briefly at Rachel as the Telepathy spell activated.
"<I completely understand,>" Kaede replied, much to Rachel's astonishment as the old woman's eyes went wide. "<But please remember that His Grace was the one who summoned me as a familiar. I had no choice in the matter. Plus Her Highness already gave him a piece of her mind.>"
"<I'm glad to hear that.>" Rachel showed a satisfied smile. Clearly she agreed with the maids insofar as the Princess' honor was concerned. "<Unfortunately though, I don't think these maids understand how such magic works, nor do they care to listen. It may not be fair, but I'm afraid you'll have to bear your master's sins in this regard.>"
Kaede exhaled a quiet sigh. What else is new?
"<When you finish, feel free to peruse the library.> Rachel then added. "<I'm sure His Majesty wouldn't mind, as he encourages us -- at least, those of us who can read -- to use it as well. I'll collect you after His Majesty's dinner is finished and show you to your quarters.>"
...
"I realized you were bookish, but I didn't think you'd be this keen."
Kaede heard Rachel's amazement as she balanced the four heavy tomes in her thin arms. Her breathing was laden with exertion as she climbed up yet another rotation of the stone, circular stairway. She had already counted four stories from the second floor library. It was clear by now that Kaede's new quarters were just beneath the keep's roof.
If I knew I'd have to climb this much I wouldn't have taken so many! She thought. She had forgotten to bring her extra-dimensional messenger bag from the academy. It didn't help now that she couldn't see her own footing on the steep staircase, which made her take even longer than usual to climb.
Unfortunately for her, Rachel also wasn't interested in helping like Pascal did back at the academy. Kaede couldn't blame the woman either. Stairs were treacherous and the head maid was already of elderly age.
Finally! Kaede's mind cried out in joy as they reached the last landing. Rachel opened the heavy door for her as they walked into the hallway for the servants' bedrooms.
"This hallway is for the maids only. Men are not allowed up here, and that includes your master." The head maid explained the rules. "I will be turning the hall's lights off by eleven, though you may use a candle after that if needed. Breakfast is at six tomorrow morning. I suggest you get up early if you're interested in the leftovers from the privy council's dinner -- the boys have voracious appetites and will devour the remnants faster than carrion. You may plan tomorrow's day as you like otherwise."
Clearly, Princess Sylviane was intent on treating Kaede like any other servant. However, Rachel also didn't know what to do with her since she wasn't a palace maid. This unfortunately left Kaede in limbo, where she would have to live with the other servants, yet couldn't find acceptance among them through working together.
This sucks. Kaede complained to herself, just before Rachel opened the door to her assigned bedroom.
"I thought it would be best to give you your own bedroom, instead of sharing with one of the other maids. Unfortunately this room hasn't been used in a long time, and we've had no time today to give it a cleaning."
The room was simple enough: two single beds, two small dressers, two chairs, and one desk by the window. However the stifling air supported Rachel's words that this room had laid empty for far too long. The furniture and windowsill even collected a layer of visible dust. The beds also lay buried under boxes and various assorted items as the place had been used as a storage room.
"Not a problem. I can clean it up. Thank you." Kaede said as she laid the books down on the desk's only empty corner.
She had forced a smile to her lips. However it was difficult to sound enthusiastic when she felt so disappointed inside.
What did I expect? That the Princess would let me use one of her guest rooms? Kaede tried not to scowl, as Sylviane's message in these arrangements was not lost on her. She clearly wants me to know my place -- that I'm just a servant.
"Her Highness also found you a more appropriate outfit." Rachel stressed the word as though she didn't agree at all. She gestured towards a frilly dress that had been laid out on the bed's only available surface. "One of the maids can help you with any adjustments you need to it tomorrow. Though I expect you'll find it a perfect fit. You do have the exact same height and build as Lady Vivienne whom this dress was originally made for."
So 'Vivi' really is Vivienne, Kaede thought. It was almost enough to confirm her hypothesis: that the girl whom Sylviane treated as a dress-up doll was none other than Rhin-Lotharingie's youngest Paladin.
"Thank you. I appreciate it." The Samaran girl tried to sound like she meant it, but she doubted that Rachel was fooled.
"I believe that is all." The Head Maid concluded. "I've told the other maids not to bother you, so you shouldn't be disturbed as long as you're in here. You may need one of us to help in getting dressed tomorrow though. I live just down the hallway, first room from the entrance to the right. Knock if you have any further needs."
"Thank you." Kaede nodded. "And have a good night."
"Good night Miss Kaede." Rachel smiled warmly before she exited the door and closed it behind her.
Kaede's forced smile vanished instantly as she collapsed onto the bed where her new outfit had been placed. She sighed deeply as she exhaled all of the dejection she felt inside.
Pascal... you idiot. She thought. Why'd you have to summon me into a girl's body?
Everyone spoke of the Princess' kindness, except Kaede didn't feel an ounce of it thanks to Sylviane's apparent jealousy.
It took her a few minutes before she finally forced herself to stand. It took even longer for her to clear out her bed and move all the miscellaneous items to the spare. The room was still cluttered and messy but that couldn't be helped. She would have to air and dust the place tomorrow, but for tonight she would just have to manage.
Returning to sit upon her bed, Kaede lifted the one-piece dress that had been prepared for her. It was lavender with soft-pink accents, and had an extravagant amount of frills and laces which gave it a 'lolita' feel. Its tiered, ankle-length skirt alone contained over a half dozen layers with all its petticoats, including a crinoline. Meanwhile the frilled top was an off-shoulder design, held up by halter straps and translucent chiffon-lace that connected to a wide choker around the neck.
None of that though was intolerable. Instead, it was the built-in corset that filled Kaede with dread and made her groan.
So the Princess can strangle me with it. The familiar girl mulled as she tugged at the laces.
With another sigh, Kaede decided there was nothing to do but sleep. She wasn't in the mood for much reading tonight. And she did want to wake up early tomorrow so there was still sumptuous food to be had.
Back to Chapter 5 | Return to Main Page | Forward to Chapter 7 |