Will the Circle Be Unbroken - Syzygyment - 本好きの下剋上 - 香月美夜 | Honzuki no Gekokujou | Ascendance of a Bookworm Series (2024)

Chapter 1: Starbindings (Updated)

Chapter Text

The First Starbinding of the Day

It was an exciting morning for Melchior. Today was a bonus temple day and the day of the Starbinding Ceremony. He had travelled with Kazimar to the temple the night before and so was awoken by Lothar’s gentle coaxing.

“Lord Melchior. There is much to do today.” He said. “It is time to wake up.” He continued. After a few minutes, the young lord slid blearily out of the blankets and sat before his attendants to be prepared for the day. Only Lothar and the apprentice Kirk assisted for most things. Sheila was down in the kitchen helping the chefs with breakfast while his two other attendants prepared reports and documents alongside Kazimar’s grey priests. The workload left behind by Hartmut and Rozemyne proved to be more than any normal person could manage so they were on near indefinite loan.

Kirk chirped energetically as he handed Melchior a moist towel then a toothbrush. “I learned how to fold the ceremonial robes yesterday. Lothar said I’m ready to learn all the accessories now!”

“That's great, Kirk.”

“Soon I'll be putting you in your High Bishop’s robes. I'll practice really hard so you can count on me to make it perfect.” This time he received only a nod and a yawn. It was like this most temple mornings. Lothar had attempted to curb his chatty apprentice but Melchior insisted he didn't mind and even that he wanted to know about their work. Now he just shook his head and continued combing out the tangles newly formed last night.

“Do you want me to cut your hair, Lord Melchior?” Lothar asked.

“No. Father said I should grow it longer so we can match.” Once he was more presentable, Melchior made his way to the bath and preemptively shivered. The cleansing with cold water was the worst part of performing religious ceremonies. Lothar poured the bucket over his head while reciting a short prayer then pulled him quickly into a warm towel. Only after Kirk helped him into his underlayers and Lothar began arranging the complicated ceremonial outfit did he start to feel warm again. He looked down at the white clothes and sighed. He hadn't needed them since the summer baptisms. Somewhere in that short time, they had gone from a little short to too short.

“I will inform Lord Zargerecht that you will need new robes as well,” Lothar noted. Melchior wasn't entirely sure how his temple and castle retainers communicated, but they seemed to all know the same things at the same time. His mother was already planning a fitting for his winter clothes when he returned to the castle next week. It was early this year because he needed extra for the Royal Academy. He could only assume ordonnanz were being exchanged but he never saw them and Lothar couldn't use them anyway. “The commoner Starbinding will be complete by third bell. We will then have an early lunch before you head to the castle. Brother Nikolaus will accompany you as guard knight. The high priest will be taking his attendants for the ceremony while we will remain here at the temple.”

“Why aren't my attendants going?” Melchior asked.

“As you are too young to have an estate, and already have attendants at the castle, we would have nowhere to go and nothing to do. Lord Kazimar's attendants are very skilled. You need not worry about any lack of help preparing the ritual.” Lothar continued while fixing the black and gold sashes in place. Kirk handed him the brooch and smiled once it was accepted. In addition to the traditional objects, he also hung a long chain with three large faestones around Melchior’s neck. It was created to hold the mana for blessings by Kazimar after fumbling around with loose faestones one too many times.

“Do you want to go to the castle?” Melchior asked.

“Yes!” Kirk said

“Our desires are irrelevant, Lord Melchior.” Lothar corrected and calmly looked at both boys. Melchior looked thoughtful while Kirk was a little sheepish.

“I'll ask what can be done next year. I'll definitely bring you along.” At this, Lothar could only smile. All of his masters had been stubborn in their own ways. Melchior was unwavering in his efforts to make others happy. Lothar finished adding the last few baubles and stepped away with a bow.

Just then, as though she were waiting for this moment, Sheila came in with breakfast. It was simpler than normal but still sizable in portions. Melchior ate as much as one would expect of a growing boy. He wasn't very picky and all his favorite foods happened to be the least expensive and time consuming to make. Lothar was sure it was an intentional response to finding out how expensive his life was compared to the orphans and other priests but he couldn't bring it up. The boy was a picture of health and insisted he was happy with his meals. While he ate, Kirk left to check on the preparations for the Starbinding and Melchior’s guard knights entered. Fonsel guarded the outside of the door while Nicholas stood inside so Dedryck could eat. After elegantly inhaling his food Dedryck switched with Fonsel. With Kirk gone, it was very quiet. The only sounds were the most polite eating noises and Melchior muttering the prayers to himself.

It was his first time conducting the commoner Starbinding. He’d been too exhausted from doing mana replenishment during the previous year's Archdukes Conference to study. After learning the Spring coming of age and Summer baptism rites only just in time, he only managed to memorize the Noble’s Starbinding. Everyone said he’d done well to learn as much as he had but he couldn't help but feel like he’d let Rozemyne down.

This year was different. He was ready and everything would be perfect. He steadied his heart, put on a noble smile and made his way through the temple.

They walked unhurried towards the chapel. Lothar led the way with the bible followed by Melchior, then Nikolous, then his other guards. Nikolaus was in the awkward position of being both an apprentice priest and an apprentice guard knight. His faestones armor formed over his blue robes seemed tailor made to highlight this contrast. This compromise had come after a surprisingly heated debate between Kazimar and Dedryck. Kazimar insisted that as a priest he had to wear blue robes in the temple to show respect for the gods while Dedryck held that guard knights needed their armor to properly do their jobs and an apprentice needed to wear their armor until it felt like a part of their body.

“A priest cannot irrelevantly flaunt the tools of war before the gods!”

“O God of Fire, Liedenshaft is not going to be offended by a man in armor. Neither are any of the rest of them!”

Kazimar had taken a liking to temple life. He was now as pious as he was knowledgeable about its history and inner workings. Dedryck, who was normally rather timid, was unflinching in all matters related to Sylvester’s son’s safety. No one would cede ground so the squabble had eventually reached the office of said Archduke Sylvester. The scholars in the office were mortified but he looked on with great amusem*nt. Melchior broke the stalemate himself by asking, “Couldn't he wear both?”

“Why do you say that, Melchior?” Sylvester asked. All eyes turned to Melchior and for almost a minute his brain refused to summon an answer. The only thing he could argue in the end was:

“It would look cool, I think.” Kazimar’s noble smiled slipped from his face while Dedryck simply blinked repeatedly.

Sylvester leaned back and very sternly replied “ It's flawless logic. Let it be so,” before smiling broadly and shooing them out of the office. To see them interact now, it would seem like such an argument never occurred but the proof walked behind Melchior with all the vigilance of an apprentice knight. His mana blade looked right at home beside the silver sash and seasonal decorations. The shining chestplate and sabatons gave an overall air of a miniature brown haired Leidenschaft. It did look cool. This was confirmed by the children of the summer baptism who whispered about the warrior priest nearly the whole ceremony.

Kirk was waiting outside the door when they arrived. “Everything is prepared.” He said while crossing his arms over his chest and bending at the waist. They waited a few more minutes until the High Priest called:

“The High Bishop shall now enter.” Lothar handed Melchior the bible. The doors were opened by a pair of grey priests. Melchior walked forward on his own. As he focused on ascending the altar without tripping on his robes, the young couples whispered and smiled.

“Oh how adorable. He's tiny just like my sister said.”

“I'm so proud. He’s back this year. It's like watching my little cousin grow up.”

One woman just squealed and pulled on her soon-to-be husband's sleeve. Melchior did his best to ignore them but a light blush still crept into his cheeks. This of course drew more sequels and whispers. When he reached the top, set the bible on the lectern, and stepped up on the provided riser, Kazimar silenced the assembly and began telling the story of the supreme gods. He wasn't as good at storytelling as Sylvester, and Melchior had heard the story before, but he enjoyed the tale nonetheless.

“They had disagreements about which responsibilities to bestow upon their children but they never descended into bickering or forgot to treat each other with respect”

“It is from their example that we form our own lasting partnerships, that two shall be joined in struggle and thus be delivered from loneliness and solitude to face the great work of building the heavens and mortal realm. Praise be to the gods!”

No matter how much one enjoyed the stories of the gods, it was still a long sermon. By the end, Melchior felt a little unsteady on his feet. He persisted though and delivered the prayer solemnly in his high pitched voice. “O mighty King and Queen of the endless skies, O God of Darkness and Goddess of Light, hear my prayers. May you grant your blessings to the birth of new unions. May they who offer their prayers and gratitude to thee be blessed with thy divine protection.” He touched one of the faestones and channeled their mana into his ring. Gold and black light shot into the air and rained sparkles over the newly weds. They then offered prayers to the gods and turned to leave the temple.

The men and women both pumped themselves up. Some pairs seemed ready to face the coming taus together while some husbands made grand promises of keeping their new wives dry on the run home. Melchior made his way down the steps with the bible. He breathed a sigh of relief and placed a hand to his forehead to calm his woozieness.

“Are you alright, Lord Melchior?” Kazimar asked the moment his hand reached his head.

“I’m just a bit dizzy is all.”

“Did you get good sleep last night? Did you eat enough for breakfast? You don’t seem to have a fever.” At the word fever, Lothar walked through the still parting doors, his face full of concern.

“I think I’ll be ok. I’m starting to feel better.” Melchior put on the smile his mother tended to wear to put him at ease and tried to walk on as though he felt perfectly fine.

“If you feel unwell, you must let us know. We cannot allow you to faint, Lord Melchior.” Lothar didn’t seem reassured by his smile and knelt before him to stare into his face.

“I bet he just forgot to bend his knees during your long sermon.” Fonsel said. Kazmiar shot him a glance but didn't deny it. Melchior tried to think about what he’d been doing during the whole ritual. He often had to remind himself to bend his knees and allow blood flow while standing for a long time. He couldn’t remember giving himself those reminders since he’d been listening and reviewing the blessing. He placed his fist into his palm.

“That’s it. I did forget to bend my knees.” He said this mostly to Lothar who looked like a great calamity had passed him by as he took the bible from Melchior’s hands.

“Well, that’s alright then. We must return to your chambers for lunch. There isn’t much time before you must head to the castle.”

Lunch was much like breakfast, but Melchior couldn’t eat nearly as much. It hadn’t been very long since then and he knew he was destined for an early dinner with his family as well. Nikolaus seemed to have no such reservations as he ate quickly then returned to his chambers to change out of his robes.

“Did you have fun, Lord Melchior? What is the Starbinding Ceremony like in the castle?” Kirk chattily served lunch and the tea Lothar had prepared while Lothar and Sheila carried the ritual implements to the carriages. By all rights, Kirk should have been on porting duty but he was neither as strong or as fast as the adults. Melchior also seemed to be in better spirits whenever he was around.

“I was too nervous to have fun, I think. The Starbinding in the castle is mostly the same except father tells the stories and a ton of extra people are in the hall at the time.”

“Extra people?”

“Single people and their chaperones or friends mingle to try to find wives. Our Dedryck will be trying his luck tonight too.” Fonesl broke in loudly while eyeing the door. “Be sure to give him Liebeskhilfe’s blessing today.” He whispered. Both boys nodded. “He’s sure to be a bit nervous.”

Melchior thought Dedryck did indeed seem nervous as they made their way to the Noble’s Gate. This time Nikolaus carried the high bishop’s bible. He handed it to Kazimar outside the carriages and returned to his place beside the other guards.

“I entrust the temple to you in my absence, Lothar.” Melchior said, as he’d been taught, before climbing into the carriage. He received a rare bow from all five of his attendants since Kazmiar was with them.

“Wasn’t Sigsnyr supposed to meet us here?” Dedryck quietly asked Fonsel.

With none of the same discretion, Fonsel replied, “Was he? Wouldn’t we normally meet at the castle?”

“Yes, but Nikolaus is already here. We could perform the hand off and I could go get ready.” Dedryck was looking more worried by the second.

“Well, as you say, Nikolaus is here with me. You can leave if you must.” Dedryck looked intently at the 12 year old apprentice knight.

“It's not enough protection with just you two.” He then opened the carriage door and gestured to Melchior inside. Kazimar also entered with them. Before getting in himself, Dedryck instructed Nikolous to go ahead of them to the castle. “Be sure that Sigsnyr is there when we get there.” The boy summoned his winged wolf with a sharp nod and flew off quickly.

Dinner and the Castle

Melchior looked out the windows at the large white buildings and manicured gardens. He was always amazed by how small the laynoble estates were compared to the castle. A particular enjoyment of riding through the Noble’s Quarter was searching for the discrete signs denoting the small stores some people had in side buildings. He’d always wanted to visit one but merchants came to the Archdukes family, not the other way around. His favorite sign was a metal bird with a chain in its mouth supporting a plaque. The plaque was unreadable from the road but he was sure it must be a wonderful place to have such a sign.

As they passed the mednoble and winter estates, there was less to be excited about. Only after the buildings gave way to crop fields and forest was his interest captured again. He had only been to two hunting tournaments so far and since he was going to the Harvest Festival starting this year, he was unlikely to visit another one until he came of age. They’d been a lot of fun, though he’d noticed that his family seemed less excited about the event. Wilfred, in particular, looked upset when he thought no one could see him. Since he went to so much trouble to hide it, Melchior didn't ask him about it.

Thinking about Wilfred's worries reminded him of Dedryck. Fonsel said he would be nervous too and looking at him in the dim carriage, it was clear to see he was stiffer than usual. Melchior thought about Liebeskhilfe’s blessing. He hadn't seen such a blessing in any of the bible’s transcriptions but he hadn’t found Angriff’s blessing either and he knew from stories about Rozemyne that it was effective. Perhaps it was in the High Bishop's bible. He didn't get very many opportunities to read it since his father only lent him the key on rare visits to the temple. He wondered when he would be fully entrusted with it like Rozemyne had been. In the meantime, he read the transcriptions in the book room and memorized the wooden boards. Just because he had never seen it didn't mean it didn't exist. Heilshmertz’s healing and Angriff’s blessing were almost the same. You said the god’s name and asked for their divine protection for whoever needed it. Surely Liebeskhilfe could be entreated in the same way.

He was lost in these thoughts as he went through the rote greetings to Zargerecht and watched his guards change over. He was only stirred by seeing Dedryck kneel and give his farewell

“Oh wait, Dedryck!” He said as the man was halfway between kneeling and standing up. Dedryck kneeled back down and recrossed his arms.

“Yes, my lord. Do you have parting instructions?”

“I just wanted to say good luck and to give you a blessing. O Goddess of Binding Liebeskhilfe, of the Goddess of Light’s exalted twelve, we pray that you grant Dedryck your divine protection.” He pushed a bit of mana into his ring and a bit extra seemed to come along with it to send a mote of golden light which burst and rained sparkles over the knight. Dedryck looked first stunned, then confused, and finally turned a bright shade of red. Fonsel held a hand to his mouth and failed to stifle a hearty laugh.

“Um… thank you.” He stood shakily and summoned his highbeast. “Oh… umm… Lord Melchior.'' In the blink of an eye he all but disappeared into the sky. At this, Fonsel broke down even more.

“Goodness, you actually did it.” He cackled. Nikolaus’s eyes were wide in amazement while Sigsnyr looked on with curiosity.

“What does that mean, Fonsel? What have you been telling Lord Melchior?” Zargerecht began to guide the party inside.

“I only said he should bless Dedryck for luck at the Starbinding. I’m just as surprised as you that such a blessing actually exists. Ah, the look on his face was a blessing in itself.” He filled the entire hallway with this speech so it was no surprise to receive a question from Kazmiar as he rejoined the group.

“What are you on about? And keep your voice down.” Fonsel took the opportunity to loudly recount the previous scene.

“I know of no such prayer or blessings, but if you saw it then it must exist. Where did you find it, Lord Melchior? How does it go?”

Melchior was once again distracted by thoughts of his retainer’s obvious worry. He repeated what he’d said as asked and hoped in his heart his blessing had helped at least a little. He made no effort to push mana into his ring but a small bit was sucked out anyway and flew off through the ceiling.

“Fascinating.” Was the only response from Kazmiar. Meanwhile Fonsel was struck by a new laughing fit.

“If that makes it, he’s going to think you don't believe in his chances.” His mirth did nothing to slow their pace towards the Northern Building. They reached Melchior’s room quickly and began preparing him for a bath. Once he was washed and dressed in a light blue formal tunic and dark blue breeches, his hair was brushed and pulled into a tiny ponytail in imitation of Sylvester. Nearly all his clothes were blue. It matched his hair and eyes and men weren't obligated to follow seasonal colors. He was a little jealous of Wilfred's gold and yellow wardrobe in all honesty. He was also sad that Ferdinand wasn't around anymore so they could match.

“Do you think Mother will order me other colors this year?” He asked Zagerecht. His head retainer was serving tea while he and Sigsnyr continued their long running game of Go. They could only play in the pauses between other things for the most part and Sigsnyr was the only one of his retainers still willing to play against him. There were still his friends in the temple orphanage and Kirk to compete with at least.

Zargerecht didn't pause his work to ask, “Other colors of what, Lord Melchior. You must be specific.”

“Do you think Mother will order me different colors of clothes this year. I only seem to wear blue.” He placed down a piece and flipped over a line of tiles. It was rather annoying to flip tiles when many squares were close together. He thought it would be nice if they were smaller or a different shape.

“Do you not like blue?” Sigsnyr asked. He had grey hair and golden eyes and, though Melchior rarely saw him in anything but a Knight's uniform, he had never seen Sigsnyr in the same color twice.

“I do but I want to wear something else too.”

“You’ll get your cloak this year. Then you can wear ochre.” Sigsnyr played with the tile in his hand as though not putting it down would give him the stroke of genius needed to overcome his inevitable defeat.

“Men only need one good color anyway. I wouldn't sweat it.” Fonsel said from his place guarding the door. This earned a frown from everyone in the room.

“Don't listen to him,” Sigsnyr whispered then said at full volume, “He’s the least fashionable knight in the dorms.”

“That's not true. I'm plenty fashionable. We can't all be pretty boys like you.”

“That's enough, Fonsel,” Zargerecht interrupted. “It is inappropriate to speak that way before Lord Melchior.”

“My apologies. What I meant to say is we don't all have the clothes budget of an archnoble scion.” He said this with a smile and without a hint of jealousy.

Whatever Sigsnyr was going to say was cut short by a light knock followed by Nikolaus opening the door. Haldis came in and bowed. “It is time for dinner, Lord Melchior.” Haldis and the knights followed him out. The strawberry blond attendant had only recently joined his retinue and Charlotte always seemed surprised to see him. It was no different this time when she descended the stairs from the girls level and glanced into the hall. Her attendant nearly ran into her when she stopped abruptly. The smile returned to her face mere moments later and she greeted her brother.

“How wonderful to see you this evening, Melchior. How was the Starbinding in the temple?” She waited for him to catch up before they walked downstairs together. He told her that it had gone well and he had remembered all the prayers and gave the blessing without issue. “That is most encouraging to hear, dear brother. I have to say, if their hair wasn't a different color I would be sure Hartmut had returned for a visit. He looks just like Hartmut.” There was an unmistakable tinge of fear carried with that name. Melchior had only met Hartmut a few times and he was always very kind. He wasn’t sure why the thought of him made his sister shiver imperceptibly.

“If you would excuse the presumption of a mere attendant to speak, my lady,” Haldis said after a moment.

Without turning around Charlotte answered, “Yes, Har… Haldis?”

“Thank you, my lady. As Hartmut is my younger brother, I believe it is more accurate to say that he looks just like me though he wouldn't be happy about it.” Both archduke’s children missed the side eye from Charlotte's retainers but Fonsel laughed silently.

“Yes, that is true. I suppose the wording would be important. Older siblings do have their pride.”

“I would be happy to look just like you, Charlotte.” Melchior said. Charlotte gave him a radiant small and patted his head.

“You are growing into quite the flatterer.” She cooed but to Melchior it was not flattery. It was his honest opinion that Charlotte was the most beautiful girl in the world. He had never left the borders of Ehrenfest, but this didn't diminish his certainty and no one could really say he had poor taste. With her crown of large golden curls and ever smiling indigo eyes, she was rather eye-catching. Her delicate facial features in contrast with her towering height painted a picture both divine and powerful. However, it was her poise and grace, somehow exemplary in a world of well bred women, that set her apart. She seemed to have the right word and gesture for every moment. Some people still held that Rozemyne was the more beautiful of the sisters, but in Melchior's opinion they were beautiful in different ways and thus could not be compared.

By now they were crossing the bridge into the main building. Melchior took the moment to ask how her day had gone.

“Oh it was very normal. I practiced the harspiel then helped father with his paperwork. Then it was time to prepare for dinner. I'll do some studying this evening.”

“Can I study with you? I have to leave early from the Starbinding Ceremony so I’ll be back by this evening.” This would be a rare opportunity when they were both almost free so Melchior tried to seize it.

“It will be rather late and we won't be studying the same things. Perhaps another evening. We can plan a time for one of your castle days.” At these words, whispers began between Haldis and Charlotte’s attendant. Melchior could only nod mournfully. They had a sibling tea party every Sproutday but it always felt too short. Finding any other time to spend with his brother and sister generally required several days if not a week of preparation as well as a good reason. They weren’t even always at dinner. It couldn’t be helped though. Charlotte was always busy with socializing and administrative work. It was slightly easier to track down Wilfred only because he was always in and around the knight’s training grounds. If Melchior made the mistake of going there though, he would inevitably be roped into running until his legs hurt. He knew it would be rude to try to press and he didn’t get a chance. They had reached the dining room.

All three of his guard knights lined up along the wall behind his normal seat while Haldis pulled it out for him. He didn’t settle a napkin on his lap just yet since the arrival of his parents would force him to stand up again shortly. Wilfred arrived very soon after and took his seat across from his siblings. Beside Wilfred would sit Lady Florencia then Aub Ehrenfest at the head of the table and Charlotte on his other side. Melchior wished to sit closer to his mother but as the youngest he was of the lowest standing and so was placed farthest from the seat of honor. When Brunhilde ate with them he was often placed next to her since WIlfred wanted to be neither next too nor across from his father’s second wife. Melchior didn’t mind having her at dinner if only because it meant he could sit in a slightly more central location. She would also talk to him about how her and Charlotte’s faction was doing and what trends were becoming popular in the Sovereignty. He wondered what she would say about him wanting to wear other colors than blue.

Just as the siblings were finishing their greetings, Sylvester and Florencia entered arm in arm. The children stood and bowed in their direction and gave words of greeting in unison. Sylvester waved them off then helped Florencia with her chair himself. Dinner was served and everyone began talking about the varied business of the duchy. A paper workshop was being established in Gerlach. They couldn’t seem to make too much Ehrenfest paper to sell to Alexandria but there was growing concern about the effect on forests. Charlotte’s knight training was going well. She was ready to start learning highbeast maneuvers. Wilfred would be ready to take over teaching the youngest apprentices soon. Their little sister was healthy and enjoying her picture books from Rozemyne and miniature brewing tool replicas from Ferdinand (but also from Rozemyne they were sure). Melchior reported that the commoner Starbinding had gone well and the blue priests had left dinner at the temple for the orphans.

Just as the food was cleaned away Henrietta was brought in by her wet nurse. The little girl had dark gold hair, much like WIlfred, and the strong features of Sylvester. Everyone smiled at her and Melchior promised to visit soon.

“Melchior, you are returning to the temple for the next few days. You won’t be able to visit for a while yet.” Florencia said.

“It's only a couple days. Then I’ll be back and can visit.”

“A few days is an eternity for a small child. Don’t you remember how you were devastated when Charlotte said she wouldn’t talk to you for a week because you pulled her hair.” Sylvester chuckled. “You cried so hard she only lasted two days.”

Melchior tried to smile through his embarrassment but as his face turned red. He had to raise his voice a little when he responded, “You don’t have to keep bringing that up.” This only earned a look of greater amusem*nt from his father.

“Father, Melchior is always so sincere. It isn’t right to tease him.” Charlotte came to his defense.

They shared a few more giggles at his expense before Haldis stepped forward half a step. It was the signal he used to tell Melchior it was time to go. This time it meant he needed to go put his robes back on for the ceremony.

“Please excuse me, Father. I must go prepare for the Starbinding. I bid you all a good evening” Sylvester excused him and he rushed back to the Northern building.

The Noble’s Starbinding

He had done this perfectly last year so by all rights he shouldn’t have been nervous. Yet the longer he waited before the doors to the Grand Hall, the more his knees tried to shake.

“Just take a few deep breaths, Lord Melchior. You will do just fine.” Fonsel said with a few pats on the shoulder. His hand was slapped lightly by Haldis when he attempted to flick the mini ponytail too. Melchior's robes had been set in mostly the same way as this morning but a length of golden string had been added to keep his hair back. They also left a few hairs in the front free to heighten the similarity to his father’s hairstyle. Even though it wasn’t quite long enough yet, Melchior was sure it would please Sylvester.

When the door’s finally opened he did receive a genuine smile from the Archduke. He would never know that this was not because of his hair but because Florencia had whispered that he was just as adorable as Sylvester had been when they first met. She was not the only one remarking in this vein and Melchior wondered when he would outgrow such comments. “Some time in your late forties.” Sigsnyr would say when he brought it up later. It would be a crushing blow but for now he made it up the dias and sat down without tripping on his robes. Them being a bit too short was a boon in this respect.

Once they were all sitting and comfortable the single nobles and their chaperones began to mingle. Melchior looked for his attendant. He found Dedryck after some good searching. He was near a wall and would have looked every bit the dashing knight if he didn’t look so ready to bolt at the first whiff of rinsham. There were still a few women taking turns to speak with him.

“It looks like people like Dedryck. Why was he so nervous?” Sylvester was speaking to Lord Bonifiatus on his other side so Melchior directed his question to his mother.

“Finding love is always nerve racking. You’ll understand when it’s time for your own engagement,” she said then pointed out Wilfred. He was striding about like a golden Blaunfah, passionately shilling his friends and retainers and earning nervous glances from Brunhilde. Melchior thought he looked rather dashing but his growing admiration was cruelly struck down. “Wilfred is trying so hard to set up his friends because he’s nervous about his own prospects. I wonder if he even remembered the list Charlotte gave him.” She placed a hand on her cheek.

“Why would he worry, I’m sure any girl would want to marry him.”

Sylvester caught this stray comment and chimed in, “That’s part of his problem. The other part is that it isn’t his decision in the end. We will decide who he marries based on what’s best for Ehrenfest.”

“That sounds sad. Didn’t you choose father, Mother?”

Sylvester was caught between a smile and outrage. “I chose her,” he said quietly as he quailed under his wife's gentle smile. “It's the same for you so don’t go falling in love. And the five year moratorium will have elapsed by then so be prepared to marry into another duchy.”

This was fresh and terrifying information. Melchior’s voice cracked as he said, “I don’t want to live in another duchy. I don’t want to leave. Mother, you won't make me leave. Will you?” His parents exchanged a look but before they could reassure him that the sky was not falling, one of the blue priest's gestures indicated it was time to begin the ceremony. “You want me to stay don’t you?” His strangle cry was drowned out by the call for the engaged couples to enter. Florencia rubbed his back and reminded him to smile. He choked down his worry and took a few deep breaths. His emotional turmoil was causing his mana to shift about in disarray so he closed his eyes for a moment and imagined gathering a shattered faestone into a ball and squeezing it together. It was his standard method for calming himself down. Something about setting the imaginary problem right was soothing. He would think about this later. He had to perform the ritual and do the blessing. It was the responsibility left to him. He felt calmer once he opened his eyes.

The Archduke stood before the assembled nobles and began an elaborate speech while flashing worried glances at Melchior. He’d spent too long righting his emotions and failed to get up on cue. Melchior did his best to hide his panic and rose gracefully from his seat. He joined Sylvester at the lectern, the bible was already resting there. With a gesture disguised as part of his speech, Sylvester slipped him the key. He opened the bible quietly and began flipping toward the section for the Starbinding rituals. This was one of the pages with a few blank spots but the relevant prayer had been written in the margins. He couldn’t help but be a little cross when he considered how long he’d spent memorizing. Who had scribbled in the holy text anyway?

It was the second round of the same stories and though the Archduke told them with great panache, Melchior struggled to be excited this time. But he smiled as instructed and remembered to breathe and bend his knees. The couples walked forward one by one to sign their contracts. Sylvester and he gave words of congratulations as each sheet of parchment burned up in golden light.

When the moment came for him to offer the blessing he touched the second faestone on his chain and recited the prayer. The black and gold sparkles descended to a chorus of oohs and aahs. It didn’t feel like it took very much mana. He wondered if he would be strong enough to do the blessing himself next year.

Once his role was complete he bowed to the Archduke and the assembled nobles and made his exit. He returned to his room and took his third bath of the day. Fonsel sent Nikolaus back to the temple since he would be in his room for the rest of the night. Zargerecht was not there but his harspiel tutor was waiting.

“You were planning to study tonight, Lord Melchior?” Haldis gestured toward the chair prepared for him. Melchior couldn’t help but sigh.

“I’m glad we had this time, Lord Melchior. It's important to practice instruments everyday to maintain your skills,” said the kindly middle aged man. They began with a few warm up exercises and some basic scales. After becoming High Bishop, Melchior’s harspiel training had transitioned to follow Ferdinand’s plan for Rozemyne with a few minor changes. The principle change was that he was taking it at approximately 2/3rds the speed. He’d tried valiantly to keep up the same rigor but it briefly made him dread his lessons and also meant he had to practice alone. At the current pace, there were a few orphans and grey shrine maidens as well as Nikolaus and Gerianne who could join him for practice. The harspiel always sounded a bit sad when it was just him. Tonight was no different. The second change was that he was never asked to produce his own compositions. He’d also attempted this but found it more tedious than anything and also impossible to do within the given time frame to the level of quality Rozemyne had done. It was another one of his failings which no one faulted him for.

Once his lesson ended it was time for bed. Haldis turned off all the lights and left him to his thoughts. It was his practice to do a little bit of mana compression every night. He’d been hearing about how important it was for years and that it was one of the first things taught at the Royal Academy. At the same time everyone refused to teach him saying it was too dangerous and you had to push yourself to near death to make a lot of progress. His father said that he was developing mana at a good pace and would make plenty of progress once the time was right. But compared to the rest of his family, he felt very weak.

Thankfully, it was a constant topic of conversation between his knights. Only Dedryck had managed to learn Rozemyne’s mana compression method but he wasn't able to tell anyone else about it. Sigsnyr had his own method which centered around the particular use of an obscure magic tool. His explanation was full of whooshing and popping sounds and completely useless. Rozemyne had explained the first stage of her method to Nikolaus since he was her half-brother. It involved visualizing stuffing fabric into a box and shutting it. That was easier to grasp but Melchior wondered why you wouldn't just get a second box once the first one was full and how you could fill a box with so much liquid in the first place.

Everyone seemed to have different ideas and were more than willing to discuss them in the abstract but no one would give him an exact lesson on how to do it. Thankfully Fonsel had been willing to say what it felt like. “It's like lifting something real heavy. You use your whole body and all your muscles accept it's all in your head. Your imagination muscles. It's just as tiring as using your meat muscles too.” It was also helpfully referred to as compression so Melchior figured that meant he had to make his mana smaller somehow. It was just that mana didn't really have a shape and wasn't in any sort of ready made container other than his body. It floated free and formless and trying to squish it was like trying to grab water. But it had to be possible if other people could do it.

He reached a breakthrough when he saw some grey priests drawing water. They normally used a metal contraption called a “pump” but on this occasion they were also lifting out buckets. No matter how much water they drew though, the water level never seemed to go down. When they returned the water from an unneeded bucket the water didn't get any higher either. It didn't make sense unless the water was being compressed by its own weight and only had enough strength to stand at a certain height. Perhaps mana was the same.

Now he imagined pouring water into his imaginary well. He liked to imagine the liquid getting more blue as it grew more condensed. The priests had allowed him to carry a full bucket a short distance and moving his mana made him feel similarly tired. Since his mana was taking up less space despite not being spent he decided he had succeeded in developing a mana compression method. Once he achieved this, he took up the habit of compressing a little before bed. He didn't want to endanger his life for more mana just yet.

Chapter 2: Temple Days

Chapter Text

Young Knights Request

Melchior awoke feeling well rested. He slipped out of bed only to remember that he was in the castle and therefore didn't need to wake up quite so early. He locked eyes with Haldis who was helping Zargerecht prepare his clothes and luggage for the day. The attendant smiled and made to come over but Melchior jumped back into bed and pretended to be still asleep.

“If you are ready to get up it's alright, Lord Melchior.”

“No, I think I'll get a little more sleep,”

“I'll wake you up when breakfast is due to be served.”

“Yes, that sounds wonderful. Please do.” He proceeded to stare at the far side of his bed curtains. Perhaps he actually nodded off in the end because it only felt like a short while before Zargerecht came to wake him.

They dressed him in another tunic in a shade of blue and prepared tea while he waited for breakfast to arrive. His family had once all had breakfast in the dining room. Now everyone was too busy to eat a full meal first thing in the morning. After a season of everyone popping in only long enough to greet Melchior and eat a few spoonfuls, the requirement was waived by Sylvester. As he was finishing, Fonsel, the night watch, was replaced by Dedryck and Sigsnyr.

They were returning by carriage again this morning. The personnel and attendants had departed earlier but Kazmiar was pacing before the doors.

“Oh good, we can depart.” He muttered then knelt in courtesy. “Good morning, Lord Melchior. I hope your rest was rejuvenating.”

“Yes thank you. Shall we return to the temple?” Kazmiar nodded then took the high Bishop's bible from his own attendant and bid them farewell.

By the time they set off, it was halfway to third bell. With the exception of Kazmiar, they all watched the familiar scenery outside. Sigsnyr eventually broke the quiet.

“I know I'm only an apprentice, but I'm also your only guard knight who doesn't get to visit the temple.” He wore his hair in a thick plait today and played with the end as he spoke. His hair was as long as most of the girls and it shone like polished silver in the morning sun. Sigsnyr used a more neutral scent of rinsham but a sweet, spiced scent was detectable if one was very close, such as when sharing a highbeast. Sigsnyr was a very good knight in Melchior's modest opinion. He always scored well during the hunting tournaments and Dedryck trusted him to be one of only two knights where he didn't yet trust Nikolaus. Melchior couldn't help but worry Sigsnyr felt like he didn't rely on him because he couldn't guard him in the temple.

“You're still an apprentice. You are only permitted to work within the Noble's Quarter.” Kazmiar responded.

Sigsnyr looked at Dedryck as he replied, “Nikolaus works in the temple.”

“He is a priest. He lives at the temple.” Kazmiar said with growing impatience.

“Just because he lives as an apprentice priest at the temple doesn't mean he should be allowed to do the work of an apprentice knight at the temple. Priests don't normally retain their noble duties.” He gave Kazmiar a pointed glance but didn't turn away from Dedryck.

Dedryck, for his part, simply looked out the window as though ignoring him. They had had this conversation before. Even if Sigsnyr had new arguments it wasn't going to change the rules.

“Why do you want to visit the temple, Sigsnyr? You can have the same food in the knights dorms now.” Both knights scoffed at Melchior's naive assertion then apologized.

“It has nothing to do with the food. I want to see the divine instruments.”

Kazmiar smiled but his eyes held rage. “The divine instruments are not toys for children to play with,” he snapped.

“I have unending respect for the divine instruments. I would treat them with the utmost care.” Sigsnyr placed a hand to his chest and made a show of looking wounded.

Before the discussion could get out of hand, Dedryck spoke up to end it, “You are an apprentice. There's nothing for it. You can wait two years.”

Melchior held his chin and thought out loud, “Rozemyne's apprentice knights were allowed to visit.”

“Those were special circ*mstances.” Kazmiar said quickly.

“They got to donate to the divine instruments and learned to form them.” Kazmiar was stunned and Sigsnyr’s eyes sparkled. “I think you just need fa… the Archduke’s permission. Shall I ask him?”

Kazmiar shook his head while Sigsnyr nodded enthusiastically. It was decided.

“Sigsnyr, ready an ordonnanz.” Melchior's words were barely out of his mouth before a white bird was presented to him.

“We cannot bother the Archduke with such matters out of the blue.” Dedryck said.

“I don't think father would mind but perhaps we should send it to Rihyarda instead. To plan a meeting to talk about it?” Melchior offered. Dedryck choked down further dismissal once he saw the pleading look Sigsnyr had plastered onto his face. His arm holding the bird out seemed to be shaking ever so slightly. Maybe it was the rocking of the carriage.

“You cannot be considering this.” Kazmiar kept looking back and forth between them all. Once the bird's beak opened he went silent.

“This is Melchior. Could you plan a time for me to meet with Father to discuss permission for my apprentice guard knight to work in the temple?” With a flick of Sigsnyr’s hand it was done. The whole carriage waited with different versions of apprehension. Melchior repeated the message to himself trying to find any problems with it. He did not want another lesson from Zargerecht on proper ordonnanz etiquette. It would sadly not be the first time Rihyarda had alerted his attendants to their failures to educate him properly. It had only happened once before but he could still remember the frozen, tired smile on Zargerecht’s face.

When the bird returned it landed on Dedryck’s arm. “He will need his father’s permission.” Said the bird, three times, in Sylvester’s voice. By the last repeat, Sigsnyr had a dour look. Kazmiar seemed like he was planning to comment but held his tongue. Melchior was going to rejoice but thought better of it. Only Dedryck chose to say, “Well, that's fair enough. Have courage.”

By then they had reached the temple so Melchior didn't have a chance to ask why one would need courage to ask for such a small thing. Sigsnyr greeted and passed his watch to Nikolaus then stared at the temple for a long moment before mounting his highbeast and flying away.

A totally normal day

Lothar and Kazmiar’s head attendants greeted them at the temple doors. Kazmiar disappeared with only the briefest farewell.

“Welcome back, Lord Melchior.” Lothar didn't look as calm as usual.

“Thank you, Lothar. Did something happen while we were away.”

“Yes. It would be best to discuss it after you have settled in.” He led them to the High Bishops chambers and Kirk helped Melchior into his white robes. These were also getting a bit too short but there was still space to let out the hem. Once he was situated at his desk with a cup of tea, Lothar began. “We had a guest yesterday after you left .”

“During the Starbinding ceremony?” Melchior asked.

“Yes. They were an older noblewoman, Lady Strieta. In her words, the binding of stars no longer had anything to do with her. She came to the temple without considering that it would be empty. Sister Philine hosted her in a receiving room.” He looked a bit pale, as though the ordeal had been trying. “She plans to return tomorrow, at fourth bell, for lunch.”

“She can't just do that, can she? Isn't Melchior the Archduke's son.” Kirk asked. Lothar smiled wider and looked pointedly at Kirk who seemed oblivious to him.

“He is to be addressed as Lord Melchior.”

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, Lord Melchior. I will not forget again.” He put on a proper smile and bowed as he spoke then resumed his relaxed posture.

Melchior smiled, nodded to reassure him, then said “Did she say why she was visiting?”

“Yes. Lady Streita intends to join the temple. It would seem that Lord Bonifiatus has spoken well of the food and attendants here. She wishes to retire from the Knights' Order.”

“I see. Normally Kazmiar meets with new priests. He’s always so busy though and preparing a lunch meeting on such short notice must be difficult.” Melchior gathered his resolve. Before he could declare that he would take on this burden, Lothar interrupted.

“You need not consider the preparations. It is our duty as your attendants to ensure such things progress smoothly regardless. In this case, Sister Philine agreed to meet with her and will provide lunch.”

“Doesn't she still need to make an appointment with proper notice?” asked Kirk who was annoyed by the rude request even if it wouldn't be his responsibility.

“Sister Philine is a Blue Shrine Maiden. Noble's may impose upon her time if they wish. Lady Strieta wished to meet with the High Bishop however Lord Melchior was appointed by the Archduke directly and has retained his status. Thus, Sister Philine has accepted the meeting in your stead to avoid insult to either Lady Strieta or yourself.” Lothar explained to both boys. He hoped to extinguish the look in his lord's eye that always proceeded the boy's efforts to take on unnecessary responsibilities. A solution had already been found after all. He only informed Melchior because the High Bishop had to be kept abreast of all temple happenings.

Unfortunately, one of the unnecessary responsibilities Melchior had taken on was helping to calculate the temple revenue and expenditures. He was therefore aware that even with the Orphanage Director’s salary, Sister Philine still had to use a large portion of her own funds to support herself. He also knew that hosting another noble for a meal incurred a sizable cost. Without a second thought to the gentle guidance of his head attendant he declared. “I shall host her.”

“That isn't necessarily, Lord Melchior.” Lothar said.

“I know but I want to show her how great life is here.” Lothar could only smile and resign himself.

The rest of the day was much like his temple days always were. He made his donation to the divine instruments. He had moved up to adding four small faestones worth and was concentrating on learning Flutrane’s staff. Then he went to the orphanage for the second half of morning lessons. He and Nikolaus sat with the other apprentice blue priests and shrine maiden and joined the math lesson in progress. Today's lesson centered around using the calculator. Dirk sent his beads clacking both quickly and accurately while Gerianne focused on moving her’s as quietly as possible.

Eventually they moved on to harspiel. The group of grey apprentices and pre-baptism children were beginning to practice for a winter recital. Melchior kept getting distracted listening to the large group play together. He and his practice partners frequently played at the same time but always played the same melody. He’d seen ensembles of professionals play at tea parties but hadn't considered that children such as himself could do something similar.

“Please focus, Lord Melchior.” Trude, the grey shrine maiden who now taught music, said with a light tap on his music stand. He sat up a bit straighter and picked up his dragging pace to match the others.

Once the lessons were done it was time for lunch. They parted ways with the other blues and Nikolaus resumed his guard duty. He was happy to be finished. Playing harspiel in armor was surprisingly uncomfortable.

Lothar served Melchior alone at his own table while the knights rotated eating at a small table to the side. After the meal he was changed into a lighter set of clothes and set out to walk around the temple to digest his food.

Every other afternoon he would train with Nikolaus and Gerianne. He began after lunch with the aforementioned walk then ran a few laps around the courtyard. By then the other two would join him. They seemed to do their conditioning on other days and so the three would practice sword forms under Dedryck's watch. As the one with the most practice, Nikolaus had both beautiful form and great stamina. He was given longer and more complicated sets to do while the other two continued the basic exercises. His mana blade looked slightly longer than last week though it could only just be called a short sword rather than a dagger. It glittered in the sun and left blueish white streaks in the air.

Gerianne had recently begun muttering during their training sessions. For weeks, Melchior thought she was repeating the names of the various movements to remind herself. Today he caught some of the actual words. “O Ew… Life… guide… praise.” He didn't pause his swings to ask, “Are you praying?”

She finished her set then stopped to answer. “Yes of course. I am praying to Ewigeliebe, the God of Swords, to accept my blade work as an offering now that it's finally good enough not to be an embarrassment.”

“But Ewigeliebe is the God of Life not the God of Swords.”

“He is the only god who wields a sword and is therefore for the God of Swords.” She declared.

“I guess that makes sense.” Melchior replied.

“It does not make sense.” Dedryck said. “Angriff is the God of War. His domain includes all weapons.”

“Don't Liedenshaft’s subordinates use spears.” Melchior asked but was drowned out by Gerianne saying, “I’ve never read that Lord Dedryck. Can you lend me the text that says that.”

“Why would anyone write that down? Weapons are for war so the God of War is the god of all weapons.” Dedryck responded.

“It has to do with the gods' power, that would make it important enough to record. And weapons are used for other things too like hunting and duels and ditter.” The large knight and tiny shrine maiden stared each other down. Her white hair and pale eyes made her look every bit the prophet of snow while Dedryck embodied fire with his blue hair and currently incandescent orange eyes.

Melchior went back to his sword practice and snuck stealthily closer to where Nikolaus had already tactically retreated. The argument continued until Dedryck put his head in his hand and groaned, “Why am I arguing with a child over nothing. Sing your prayers, summon winter for all I care. You can do 15 extra sets.” He then marched back to his spot and continued observing. Gerianne resumed her practice with a pout but did her extra sets. Melchior did them with her.

He was naturally tired and a bit sore after practice. He envied Gerianne’s lightweight wooden practice sword and Nikolaus's featherlight mana blade. He’d been given a decorated, metal training sword. “Generations of Archduke Candidates have learned from this blade,” Wilfred had intoned, “Is as old as Eisenrich.” It was heavy. Not at first but after more than a hundred swings it felt like lead in his hands. He was glad to put it down. At these times he thought that being an Archduke Candidate was not all that enviable. To add to his misery, as much as he wanted to trudge through the halls he had to stand tall and stride with grace. Thankfully, he had much to look forward to back in his chambers.

The warm bath waiting for him was a divine gift for his aching muscles. He sank deep into the water and held still while Kirk washed his hair while itemizing all the preparations for the lunch meeting that had been completed and yet needed to be completed. Then Lothar would give him a massage while explaining the process to Kirk. He only rarely trusted the task to Kirk as Kirk had a tendency to distract himself with conversation, apply uneven pressure, and pause intermittently.

Then it was dinner. Food could not look better than it did after one was swinging a sword around. Tonight's meal was very standard. It was a variety of starchy plants including potatoffels layered with fatty meat stewed in its own juices and sprinkled with finely shredded herbs served with a roasted vegetable salad. There was no dessert because Melchior maintained the bold-faced lie that he didn't like sugar much. In truth, the price of sugar had doubled since it now had to be shipped from Glissenmeyer, on the other side of the country, whose Country Gate was closed for a third of the year. He tried to make it up to his retainers by requesting fruit and fruit juice sometimes and passing down a larger portion of his parue cakes. To maintain the quality of his meals, Sheila and the cooks enlarged his other portions and employed more artistic plating. They were currently competing to see how many types of vegetables they could squeeze into one meal.

“My mother says noble ladies prefer light fare but knights seem to like meat more than plants. What do you think we should serve for lunch, Shelia?” Melchior asked once his dishes were cleared away. The grey shrine maiden paused then handed the tray of dishes off to Kirk. She had a passion for cooking and always felt elated when she served the perfect meal to the right person. This was an opportunity to gather information on the preferences of noble women. Lady Streita had been light on information about her food preference, preferring to regale Sister Philine with grievances directed at her grandson.

“The chefs and I have been discussing it just this evening. Do you have any guidance?” Her eyes were bright and curious.

“Maybe she wants to eat something similar to Lord Bonifiatus. She came because he recommended the food, right?” They both sat thoughtfully. Lord Bonifiatus was neither picky nor chose favorites among the foods at the temple. They were all invented by his dearest granddaughter and so we're all of equally high merit in his eyes. “Maybe something both light and with meat?”

“Yes. Yes! Something with fresh herbs and apfelsige and lamb. We can shape it into little pastures. Ah but we also want to impress her. Another shrine maiden will mean more mana for the land.” Sheila said and stood ready to receive more ideas.

Melchior considered what foods he’d found impressive in the past. “Ice cream is impressive. The frozen treat you made with fruit juice was really good too.” At the mention of ice cream everyone looked excited. Dedryck nodded subconsciously.

“We can make both and serve them together. Cream and fruit are always a happy couple. Ah thank you, Lord Melchior. Your input has been most enlightening.” She disappeared without another word.

With the little bit of time left before bed, Melchior did some drawing. There wasn't much that interested him as a subject but he liked the act of making pictures. He drew Nikolaus practicing his sword and Gerianne arguing with Dedryck. He came to a problem when he tried to draw Gerianne's white hair on white paper so he set the page aside and planned to ask Wilma during morning lessons tomorrow.

Lunch with an Old Knight

The picture was forgotten much like he forgot he was spending his morning helping the High Priest today. He donated his mana and headed over with Kirk, Lothar, Fonsel, Dedryck, and Nikolaus. The first time Melchior had forced his help onto Kazmiar, Dedryck and Fonsel were surprised to be impressed into service. They knew Lady Rozemyne had forced her knights to work like scholars and prematurely counted their blessings to be serving a normal Archduke Candidate. However, the combined pressure of Kazmiar’s generally overworked aura and Melchior’s cheerful insistence that his retainers were useful even if he himself could only study in the corner had forced their hand. Nikolaus applied himself to calculating and transcribing without complaint.

Lothar was instantly consumed by the throng of grey priests. As one of the last remaining former retainers of Lord Ferdinand, he could complete the work of three others and his delegation sped up everyone else's work besides. Kazmiar had attempted to make him one of Melchior's retainers on a near indefinite loan but Lothar took advantage of his lord's accommodating nature to avoid that fate. All it took was smiling a little less brightly and the sentence, “I wish to serve you directly,” to form an impenetrable shield. Now he only had to assist on days Melchior came to help himself and two days while Melchior was at the castle. The days right after his departure and right before his arrival were dedicated to “overseeing his lord's chambers”.

In the ensuing months, Melchior had graduated from dead weight to a little better than nothing. He sat with Nikolaus and worked through a pile of paperwork. He was slow at calculations but his accuracy meant that his work didn't need to be redone anymore. Transcription he was better at. Years of writing notes for his studies left him with nice handwriting. It was also satisfying to turn the messily scrawled wooden boards into neat plant paper reports. The real impediment to his work was only being able to sit still and focused for half a bell. He was still a ten year old boy and could only abide the silence for so long. After this he had to stand up and tip toe around looking at everyone else's work. No one could stop him even if it made them nervous. And it did make the grey priests nervous even though he had been doing it for months and never leveled actual criticism. It was just that he very occasionally noticed an adding error or misspelling and would kindly point it out.

After making a few rounds he would sit back down and work for a while then do it again. It was all worth it to have an extra day of Lothar, they told themselves. Once he and Nikolaus finished their pile it was always just about time for lunch. Today they would need to leave early but their pile was still the right height. Melchior led his group away with a self satisfied smile.

Once back in his chambers, he welcomed a guest. The Orphanage Director, Sister Philine, was one of his sister Rozemyne's scholars. She would come of age this winter then move to Alexandria. Despite her youth, she managed the orphanage and workshop therein with very little help. She had only one attendant for general attendant work, one who served as her personal chef and also trained the other chefs, one who managed the workshop, and Wilma who managed the orphanage. She wore her straw blond hair in low pigtails accented with an understated flora hair pin. Her grass-green eyes had developed a calm confidence and seemed to flit lightly over any room she entered collecting minute details. Proudly displayed around her neck was a faestone inscribed with a crest that matched the one on her robes; a book and quill accompanied by flowers.

Philine entered the High Bishop's chambers and greeted Melchior formally.

“Once again Dergarnuhr the Goddess of Time has woven our threads together and blessed us with a meeting. Thank you for seeing me, Lord Melchior. I have come to discuss the lunch with Dame Streita.” She rose and took the seat and tea Lothar offered.

“Thank you for coming, Sister Philine. I know the orphanage is very busy this time of year.” Melchior said and took a sip of the tea and a bite of the fruit to prove they weren't poisoned.

“It is but it is by no means overwhelming. There is no need to be concerned for us. Indeed, I was looking forward to hosting Dame Streita as a change of pace. I think she will be rather satisfied to have managed a meeting with the High Bishop on such short notice, however.” Philine sipped her tea and smiled a noble smile filled with questioning.

Melchior contained his urge to fidget by eating a slice of prehre. “I didn't want to allow her to impose upon you so I decided to host her myself.”

“I am moved to the bottom of my heart by your generous consideration. You are such an admirable Archduke Candidate to have empathy even for lay-priests.” While she didn't look particularly reproving, Melchior still knew it wasn't a pure compliment. He thought back to Lothar's advice from the previous morning.

“As the High Bishop, it is my duty to oversee the priests and facilitate the acceptance of new members. I am only doing my duty as the leader of the temple priests,” he said. Playing it over in his head, it kind of sounded like he was trying to intimidate her with his rank. He paled.

Philine knew from the last few years that this was never Melchior's intention. He no doubt just wanted to help and was trying to find justification after already meddling. “The performance of religious ceremonies is the domain of the High Bishop while the High Priest is tasked with managing the blue and grey priests. Does that not make hosting potential clergy Kazmiar’s duty?” she asked.

He cracked under the pressure and confirmed her suspicions. “I…I…I just thought that since I have the fewest responsibilities and the most extra attendants and the highest budget it would be more convenient for me to host. I just wanted to help.” He had to set his tea down to keep from spilling as he wilted into his chair. Philine looked at Lothar then back at Melchior.

“I’m sure Lothar gave you advice on this topic already so I won't repeat his lessons. It isn't bad to be helpful but you must consider how your actions will look to outsiders. You are the son of Aub Ehrenfest. Your time is precious and those seeking it must follow proper etiquette. These rules are for your safety not just to impose arbitrary restrictions. Your attendants and all the priests follow your orders so you must be careful to consider their effects before handing them down.”

“Yes, Sister Philine.”

“You are forgetting your language, Lord Melchior.”

He sat up straight and tried to imitate his father's business voice. “I will treasure your counsel, Sister Philine.”

“You flatter me with such praise.”

“I have heard your counsel, Sister Philine.” When her smile took on an air of satisfaction he finally let out his breath. “If you would prefer to host, Dame Streita, we can have the lunch delivered to the Orphanage Director’s chambers or a reception room.” He offered.

“I could not presume to take the work of your chefs and pass it off as my own but I can accompany you to this meeting if you insist.”

“We will have to impose upon your time after all, Sister Philine. Your presence would be most appreciated.” He forced himself to smile but felt dejected. It had all been for nothing in the end and he’d earned a scolding for his troubles. He’d been useless once again. Philine could not hear these thoughts but she could see the disappointment and couldn't help thinking of her own little brother. Both Konrad and Melchior had industrious and considerate spirits. She felt she had to give a little encouragement.

“Thank you ever so much. I’m looking forward to lunch now. Your chefs are well known for their inventive dishes.” That was right. He’d still saved her the cost of providing a midday meal befitting a noble. He hadn't been completely useless this time. Melchior was able to smile a little more convincingly. “Now, Dame Streita is an archknight. Her house was a part of the Leisegang faction though not of strong Leisegang blood. They have since transitioned to the New Ehrenfest faction led by Charlotte and Brunhilde under her grandson's guidance. This, among other things, has led to friction between the head of house and his grandmother. Partly to spite him and partly to move to a more peaceful environment in her old age, she is considering retiring to the temple.

“She was a friend of Lord Bonifiatus at the Royal Academy. A few years his junior she was too young to be his first wife and too old to be his second. They have remained friends and it is because of his ceaseless raving about the wondrous changes Lady Rozemyne brought to the temple that she began considering it. She has a respectable pool of mana though less than the average for archknights of our generation. She also dislikes children and enjoys her tea on the weak side.”

The entire room was stunned to silence. Philine was cloistered in the temple, far removed from the intelligence of the castle and it had been barely a day since Dame Streita’s first visit.

“How…” Kirk muttered.

“I am friends with one of Lady Charlotte's scholars. I simply traded her information on a certain guard knight.” She looked over the rim of her tea in Dedryck's general direction. His ears turned very red. “At her first visit, she spent much time complaining about her life in the Noble’s Quarter. Her grandson is not actively cruel but he lacks the respect for his elders and his grandmother specifically that his father had. She feels increasingly that he ignores her advice and discounts her lifelong contributions to Ehrenfest.” She paused. She felt her next assessment was important but looking at the room of curious men and boys made her waver. Fonsel was guarding outside the High Bishop's Chambers today so she found some courage and continued.

“In my opinion, from what she said, her grandson supports Ehrenfest's rise in influence but resents that the generational shift is led by Lady Charlotte and Second Wife Brunhilde. He vents this dissatisfaction at his grandmother since he can't show it before those higher status women.” After his initial outburst, Kirk had retrieved his diptych and started taking notes. He continued recording without any reaction. Dedryck had an unreadable frown while Lothar remained as unruffled as always. Melchior looked as though he had personally been smacked in the face; confused and angry and unsure how to process the incident. It felt safe to continue. They were running out of time after all.

“With this information we can gather that she likely wants to escape her grandson's overbearing and perhaps is looking for a bit of luxury as well. We can trust that Lord Bonifiatus neglected to include information about the workload and expenses expected of blue clergy. I think she is looking to move as soon as possible now that she’s all but made up her mind.”

Melchior tried to process all this information. It was difficult to parse the most important bits according to the system Florencia taught him. You were supposed to sort what you knew into categories for interests, wants, needs, allies, enemies, and weaknesses and choose conversation topics based on the information you wanted to collect or hide. His mother made him write out lists before and after tea parties. At the moment he was too distracted from learning that Dame Streita’s grandson disliked Charlotte and that it meant he was mean to his grandmother. He hadn't met his own grandmothers. Wilfred said his father's mother was very nice but committed a serious crime while his mother's mother had died before he was born. If they were anything like his mother, he thought they should be treated kindly and respected. It was even more baffling that anyone wanted to be mean to Charlotte who was kind to everyone and worked hard for the duchy.

This thought spiral left him unprepared for the lunch meeting. He was shuffled off to a reception room where Sheila stood with a serving cart and a self-assured smile. Lothar sat him in the highest seat and reminded him not to rise when their guest entered. Sister Philine went to the Noble's Gate to greet their guest.

Dame Streita wasn’t as tall as Melchior expected. But what she lacked in towering aspect she made up for with intimidating solidness. Her arms and neck seemed to be the size of his head and her thick waist and large chest made for an expansive chestplate. Pastel green streaked through her deep emerald hair which was pulled back into a tight braided bun. Her ochre cloak swayed and billowed as she blew swiftly into the room and kneeled with a flourish before the High Bishop. Sister Philine, who always loomed large in Melchior’s eyes, looked tiny beside the old knight. “May I pray for a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting ordained by the vibrant summer rays of Leidenschaft, the God of Fire?” Her voice was gravelly but full of mirth.

“You may.” He responded.

“O Leidenschaft, may the small bishop be blessed. I am Dame Streita. I’ve come to the temple to see the many improvements they’re talking about these days.” She gave him a teasing smile and sat in the chair as Kirk pulled it out. She looked at Kirk for an extra second as he prepared a set of dishes for her. They’d expected her to bring an attendant and her own flatware for a pre-planned meal but she was without both. Kirk silently assumed the duty of serving her.

“Welcome Dame Streita. I hope the journey wasn't over-tiring. We are so far removed from the Archnoble estates here.” Melchior tried to express his displeasure at her ignoring the temple's schedule and inconveniencing Sister Philine but wasn't sure if he managed.

“Ah, you think I've overstepped some, young lord.” Melchior wasn't sure how to respond. It would be rude to agree but denying it wasn't what he wanted either. He chose to stay quiet like his mother recommended when people were accidentally discourteous. “It has long been the way in Ehrenfest to avoid or deride the temple denizens. Ordoshnelli often walks the same roads 1. ”

“The candle of Gebordnung has yet to burn low in our sconces2.” Philine returned. Dame Streita chuckled and began giving compliments.

“ You're a sharp lass. Lord Melchior, I’m glad you’ll get mad at insults to your shrine maidens. Old Bezewanst wouldn't blink twice before sacrificing a priest to an archnoble.”

Melchior smiled, still a bit confused. Lothar took a half step forward, the signal to move things along. “Let us begin our lunch. Sister Philine told me you’ve heard high praise for our chefs. They are excited to prove their expertise.” He led them in the pre-meal prayer then gestured for the meal to begin.

First was a clear vegetable broth decorated with laundeide3 flowers. It was becoming the fashion to serve such soups in oversized versions of tea cups. The soup could then be spooned up or the whole dish was gracefully lifted by the handle. Melchior used a spoon for his poison tasting sip as the oversized dish filled with liquid was too heavy to treat like a normal tea cup. Dame Streita lifted her's as though it were no different from its smallest counterpart. “That is quite special. It's different from the soup they serve for winter socializing these days.”

“We are ever so grateful for your generous praise.” Philine responded after Melchior only nodded his agreement.

“Yes, the method is the same but the ingredients available in summer provide for a unique flavor,” he tried to recover.

“Unique indeed.” She replied while dabbing lightly at her mouth. She seemed distracted by Kirk and Philine’s apprentice attendant preparing the next plate. “Your attendants are well trained for those so young. Sister Philine has also yet to come of age. Is the temple so lacking in adults?” She didn't mention Melchior himself but he felt a bit judged as well. Philine answered once again.

“Grey priests and shrine maidens are trained to serve nobles and are often purchased soon after coming of age. The temple has not yet recovered from the changes brought by the civil war so there is little work for older grey priests.”

Dame Streita shook her head. “That was awful business. Weakened the whole country.” She then watched Lothar place Melchior’s dish before him and smiled. “Seems there's still work for old priests here.” Lothar's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He was only into his mid twenties not old by any metric.

A cup of water with three precious ice cubes each was offered with the next course. Each person was presented with two boiled eggs cut into delicate fans, they're yolks replaced with minced bird meat mixed with herbs and poached in flavorful broth. Those same yolks were then mixed with mayonnaise and sweet vinegar and finely minced rigar then spooned elegantly in the center just overlapping the fans. For added crunch and visual style, thin curls of golden-fried potatoffel formed a nest on top. It was like a brilliant sun. The effect was most pronounced on Philine’s simple, blue porcelain plate.

“It's almost too pretty to eat.” Dame Streita said. With a heavy heart, Melchior dutifully cut into his masterpiece and took the first bite. In spite of their early trepidation, it disappeard quickly from everyone’s plates. Philine thought it was easy to eat but full of complex flavor. She resolved to acquire the recipe from Sheila to send to her lady. Dame Streita asked for a third fan and more fried curls. Kirk organized it to look like a blooming flower.

The anticipation for the main course showed openly on their faces. As Lothar assembled his plate according to Sheila’s direction, he admitted to himself she’d achieved “little pastures”. He placed a chiffonade of various herbs and leaves in an organic blob. The greens had been tossed in some fragrant oil and clear, sweet vinegar with salt. He then placed five or so intact clover leaves as artistically as possible. He’d never seen a herd of sheep and so could only approximate the proper arrangement for the little pieces of meat. Each one was composed of thinly sliced lamb rolled around a bit of cheese then brushed with some pale sauce before being covered in toasted breadcrumbs. It gave the impression of a herd of golden sheep grazing in lush meadows.

Melchior smiled brightly at the adorable scene. He thought back to the fluffy herds he’d observed while flying to Hasse and felt warm thinking about his upcoming trip there in the autumn. Of course it was good. Sheila made sure there were plenty of extra “sheep” as well so everyone ended up rather full.

They were not too full for ice cream. Who could be too full for ice cream? The chefs hadn’t slacked on the presentation of this either. Softened ice cream was dolloped into bowls and shaped to include a void in the middle. Once refrozen hard the half spheres were removed from their forms and filled with frozen sweetened fruit and fruit juice carefully shredded with a rasp. Melchior’s chef had had to bundle into winter layers and stand in the cold room to keep the mixture from melting in the summer heat. But maybe it was worth it to achieve the fluffy red snow now provocative piled in the ivory bowls. Only three edible bowls were made but there was enough ice cream to spoil an Archduke's retinue waiting for Melchior’s retainers. Sadly none of it would make its way to the orphanage as divine gifts but no one was going to tell the orphans what they missed.

Dame Streita looked initially confused by the dish. It seemed strange to put a bowl onto a plate in this way but all three attendants couldn’t be wrong at once. She resolved to ignore it and waited for Melchior to do his tasting. When his spoon sliced easily into the solid dish she had to withhold a gasp. She looked to Sister Philine who similarly consumed an impossibly ductile piece of stoneware and noticed the look of delight and nostalgia playing at her eyes. It seemed safest to begin with the red snow. It wasn’t unheard of to serve flavored ice if one had the cold room to store snow or a magic tool to create it. There was something fundamentally different about this flavored ice. Both the texture and taste were more refined. In the stuffiness of summer, the tart sweetness proved perfectly compelling to eat. She was nearly finished with the ice when she noticed a layer of pale liquid forming on her plate. Melchior took a moment away from his own dessert to notice that she hadn’t touched her ice cream yet.

“Dame Streita the bowl the ice is served in was carefully constructed from frozen and whipped cream. We thought it would pair well with the shaved berries.” Melchior realized that in his excitement he’d neglected to introduce the dish. He hoped that by only speaking up now he hadn't made it seem like he thought Dame Streita didn't know how to eat it.

Dame Streita first tasted the pool of liquid. It was indeed cream sweetened with honey. She tried the mysterious flatware next. It gave way to the smallest pressure and melted instantly on the tongue. Kirk materialized at her elbow to offer more flavored ice and she accepted after tasting the combination. After years of socializing and tea parties, Dame Strieta had tried nearly every variation of cake and tart. Even the new desserts becoming popular lately couldn’t compare to the experience of freezing cold cream and berries. It seemed so simple but was so effective. It also made perfect sense that it wasn't served at larger socializing functions. Serving all the portions before the first started to melt after transporting it from a distant cold room would ruin the effect. This was a dish for intimate gatherings between close friends. She thought in spite of herself about how few of her intimate friends remained and how she wished to share all the new things in Ehrenfest with them. She thought of Sister Philine's look of nostalgia and wondered if ice cream had some mystical power to call up old memories.

“Lord Bonifiatus was not exaggerating when he praised the food served here.” Dame Streita said once the dishes were cleared away. Each attendant prepared tea according to each Noble's taste. Kirk offered several lightly flavored options and four kinds of milk.

“Granduncle is most generous with his praise. We are proud simply to have met your expectations.” Melchior responded. He sipped his tea instead of fidgeting and tried to broach the topic of work and expenses. “We consider the fine cuisine to be a small reward for the invaluable contributions of our clergy. Blue shrine maidens are a vital part of religious ceremonies and mana offerings to the land.”

“Of course there's work to be done everywhere. I’m not expecting to retire into slothful luxury just yet.” Dame Streita chuckled. Melchior was going to begin a more detailed explanation but Philine made a gesture for him to begin the tour instead.

Footnotes

1. My attempt at a euphemism for "old habit die hard" or "I fell into old habits". ^{[^]}

2.We only just got our act together. ^{[^]}

3.The onion equivalent. ^{[^]}

Chapter 3: Learning New Things with an Old Knight

Chapter Text

Exciting Plans

“Would you accompany us on a tour of the temple. We can show you our work first hand," Melchior invited. Streita enthusiastically agreed and they began showing her around.

Since it was after lunch, Nikolaus was excused to his knight training. A portion of the lunch was sent to his room as well as enough ice cream for his attendants. They would just have to be disappointed about their lack of golden sheep. His chefs had to make lunch anyway so there could be Divine Gifts to send to the orphanage. Melchior and Philine and the knights made their way around the temple while explaining the architecture and layout to Dame Streita. They quickly arrived at the stairs to the shrine maiden’s quarters on the second floor. Melchior and his knights waited while the women went upstairs. He could theoretically go anywhere in the temple and bring whoever he wanted there but he wanted to set a good example so he avoided the women’s areas.

“I think I’ll use the former occupant's furnishings. No reason to waste solid wood with such fine carving,” they heard from the top of the stairs. Next they visited the shrine where the divine instruments were normally kept. Melchior explained that only the staff and chalice were regularly used and what for. “I know about trombe hunts. The pouring mana into buckets sounds rather amusing.”

They took the scenic route around the outside areas which lead them past the courtyard where Nikolaus and Gerianne were doing their knight training. The pair paused their running to kneel as the group passed by. Dame Streita suddenly stopped before them.

“You may.” They each performed a blessing then Nikolaus introduced them both. “The son of Karstedt. A pity for a subordinate of Leidenschaft to be caught by Shneeahst,"4Dame Streita replied.

Nikolaus remained kneeling as he spoke, hiding his reddening face. “Lady Rozemyne invited the children staying in the winter playroom over spring to contribute to the duchy as blue priests for a few seasons. I and three of my fellows were most fortunate to accept her generosity.” It was hard to decide whether he was more annoyed that people assumed they were being punished or that his father had all but abandoned him.

“You may rise.” Dame Streita declared. The two apprentices didn't stand but Gerianne turned her head the smallest bit towards Melchior.

“You may rise and continue training,” he said. There was something indiscernible in the air between Dame Streita and Nikolaus. It felt right to separate them.

“They continue their training without the embrace of Erwachlerhen?5” Dame Streita continued before either Philine or Melchior could move their tour along. She watched the running children with interest.

“Sir Dedryck assists with their lessons and Lord Bonifiatus occasionally graces them with pointers,” Philine answered, causing the old knight to move her gaze to Melchior's guards. Dedryck shuffled a bit. She glanced him up and down then lingered on his face for a few moments before recognition dawned.

“Oh yes. Lord Dedryck you were the young knight who kneeled before Aub Ehrenfest and promised ‘your son will come to no harm so long as I draw breath’ while crying.” A man could not turn more red were he doused in blood. Melchior, who had never heard this story and could not see his guard knight, asked with great curiosity.

“Why cry about something like that?”

Philine answered quickly. “Official appointments are often great milestones in a retainer's life. Naturally there can be strong emotions.” It made a certain amount of sense but Melchior still wasn't sure why an adult noble would be so free with their emotions. He concluded that Dedryck was very passionate about being a guard knight. “We still have much of the temple to see. We could not trouble Dame Streita to travel home in the dark,” she said and gave Melchior a look that encouraged him to begin leading them away. But as they walked, Dame Streita seemed unable to let the matter go entirely.

“Those apprentices have good potential, they just need strict training. I can easily see to that at least.”

“Do you train the apprentice’s in the Knights Order?” Melchior asked. Fonsel stifled a laugh with a cough.

“I used to train the older girls. Then they merged all the new knights into one class. I made sure the young knights knew their stuff well enough not to be a burden. After Lord Ferdinand left the order they seemed scared of strict instruction. We almost had a whole generation of springtime Ewigeliebes. Lord Bonifiatus had to leave retirement just to remind them how to raise a shield.” She shook her head as she spoke, her voice echoing through the cold hallways. Any gray priests around were kneeling long before they turned the corners.

They walked past Kazmiar's chambers but didn't go in. Melchior knew he would be busy and might give him a second lecture about having more dignity as the Archduke's son. They looked at the orphanage from afar just to assure her she wouldn't be disturbed by the children. Dame Streita made no effort to get a closer look and praised Philine for being able to manage it all. They ended in the chapel and gazed at the altar together. It wasn't as impressive without the Divine Instruments but it still had grandeur. It naturally inspired a quiet. Melchior said a little prayer to Geduldh who he thought always looked a bit uncomfortable sitting by herself.

Once the tour was over they returned to the reception room. The tea was served and tasted, then Melchior began brightly, “How do you like the temple? Do you think you'd like to join.” It was not what Sister Philine and Lothar had meticulously prepared for him to say. They could not have known he was completely distracted by thoughts of grandmothers during their hurried instructions.

“It seems very nice, High Bishop. I only have a few small things to bring over. They will all fit in the carriage tomorrow.” Dame Streita said with a smile. Everyone else stiffened. Tomorrow was far too soon to move in.

“It will take us a bit of time to prepare to welcome you properly.” Melchior tried to recover.

Philine quickly began to elaborate with a forced calm in her voice. “Indeed your new chambers must be cleaned and aired, your blue robes prepared, candidates for your attendants selected, the fealty ceremony prepared, and all the little things a woman of your status no doubt understands arise during changes of residency. We ask for your understanding for any delay.”

“Yes of course. Though I am so excited you must excuse my lack of patience.” They smiled more intensely over the rims of empty tea cups but hadn't put them down so no one could refill them. Melchior felt the same tension from earlier.

“One week, that sounds most agreeable. Steifebrise and Gebordnung might rarely meet, yet who can deny the other's skill.” 6 Dame Streita finally rested her tea cup and swiftly took her leave before anyone could say anymore. Kirk left to lead her to the Noble's Gate.

Melchior was feeling disoriented but satisfied until Sister Philine placed her cup in its saucer with an audible clack. “Lord Melchior, I distinctly remember the conversation we had this morning where you were advised on possible ways to broach the final invitation to join the temple. You did not express dissatisfaction with the options presented at that time. Would you humor me to ask why you chose that particular phrasing just now, Lord Melchior?” Lothar uncharacteristically moved to stand in his field of view but said nothing. Melchior naturally only had a passing memory of that conversation. Had he known such important things were being told to him he would have given it more focus. Alas, the only way to know was to listen. He thought it best to admit his mistake and share his reasoning.

“I was distracted by my thoughts during that time. I failed to collect your advice. Absent your guidance, I chose to emulate the way Rozemyne invited the noble children.” He looked steadily ahead as he spoke if only because everyone was always telling him not to look down.

“You know I have great respect for Aub Alexandria, and always have, so you may take my next assertion as one grounded both in admiration and experience: emulating Lady Rozemyne is a mistake. You may attempt to emulate her genius and empathy but in all other things it is her nature to bring uncertainty to every situation.” Philine placed her hands on her chest, gripping the crested faestone resting there. “What's more, you do not have Lord Ferdinand to arrange things for you. We are not so capable as him to solve problems after things are set in motion.”

Melchior hung his head. It seemed he also wasn't capable enough to handle situations on the spur of the moment. “If one week isn't enough time I can apologize and say we need more time,” he offered.

“You can't go back on your word. We will ensure everything is prepared. Worry not, Lord Melchior.” Lothar said. “You may rely on us to see this through.” Philine nodded her agreement.

Melchior looked back and forth between them and choked down his tears. “I thank you ever so much,” he said.

Commitment to the Next Generation

After a satisfying morning of studying ancient text, Melchior and Nikolaus parted from their fellow blue apprentices for lunch. Gerianne looked on jealously as she gave her promise to meet them for training that afternoon. In the middle of his after lunch walk, a grey priest strode up quickly and kneeled before him.

“Has something happened?” Melchior asked while gesturing for the priest to stand.

“High Bishop, we’ve had a visitor from the Nobles Quarter. She insisted on being guided to a certain courtyard.” Lothar thanked him for the reports and led the group quickly to the training area.

Nikolaus and Gerianne were waiting instead of warming up and stretching. Before them, Dame Streita, dressed in riding clothes, was giving an explanation on the use of the training weapons she’d brought. The high necked green suit with generous fabric about the legs matched wonderfully with the Ehrenfest gold cloak in Melchior’s opinion. This observation delayed him noticing the arm length wooden rod in her hands even as she gestured with it.

When the group of knights noticed Melchior they all kneeled in greeting. Only Dame Streita stood after the greeting. “Lord Melchior, I’ve come to fulfill my promise to see to the training of these apprentice knights.”

“We are once again honored by your presence, Dame Streita. Please excuse our woeful reception. We did not expect to see you again so soon,” Melchior responded.

“Such a polite lad,” Dame Streita cooed. “While my change in profession is delayed I did not want to lose any days of instruction. Mammutbaum, the God of Trees,7dwells on a mountain of sticks. Each one is precious in its own way. I said I would see to their instruction as part of my work here and I intend to do just that.” She looked back at the still kneeling students.

“You may rise.” Melchior said while trying to formulate a solution. Could they realistically send her away now? Had he truly agreed to have her teach Nikolaus and Gerianne? Why was she so impatient to begin? He looked to the two apprentices. They looked a bit nervous but not upset. “Dame Streita, Dedryck has been in charge of our instruction for some time. Perhaps you’d like to discuss with him our regimen thus far,” he offered. If Dedryck could stall her for a moment he could speak with everyone else about solutions.

“That would be most helpful. Sir Dedryck, I have a few questions.” She made to approach the entire group, seemingly wanting to involve them all but Dedryck noticed his lord’s intention and blocked her entrance. Everyone else withdrew a little.

“What do I do, Lothar? Should I send her away?” he asked. His panic was slowly rising causing a minor spike in his mana. He tried to focus both on finding solutions while employing his normal coping strategy of imagining squishing stray chunks of faestone together like clay. He might have used his magic tool but always felt childish relying on it to regulate his emotion.

“It would be rude to order her out and unwise to create friction so early in your dealings,” Lothar counseled.

“I say throw her out. She keeps coming here without a proper appointment. That says she doesn't respect the temple or you,” Fonsel countered. Melchior considered this perspective. She seemed to always give proper greetings and show deference even though he was a child. She seemed rather aggressive in negotiations but so was Sister Philine and he didn’t think she didn’t respect him.

“Please excuse me, Sir Fonsel. I don’t think that's necessarily true. She did not attempt to see Lord Melchior today but came to train the apprentice knights which we tacitly agreed to allow when we did not speak out against it.” Lothar said.

“Maybe not this time but she walks around like she’s in charge even in front of Lord Melchior. Who gave her the idea that Dedryck needed help training the kids anyway.”

“I’ve already learned many things Sir Dedryck didn’t teach us,” Gerianne added.

Fonsel seemed to ignore her and continued. “I think this is a good opportunity to remind her that you’re the highest authority in the temple before she takes advantage of you.”

“I don’t think she would take advantage of Lord Melchior and she seems very knowledgeable about knights,” Nikolaus broke in.

“You're a kid. How would you know she’s knowledgeable?” Fonsel snapped. All three children scrunched their noses.

Melchior decided such questions of respect and advantage could be considered later. He needed to ask his mother more about socializing to understand, he figured. He turned to the apprentices to clear up a more pressing issue. “Do you want to train with Dame Streita?”

Nikolaus and Gerianne looked at each other. They had only had about twenty minutes of instruction so far. Gerianne considered that she’d been given a pretty new training sword which was more comfortable than the one her scholar parents bought her if not quite as pretty. Nikolaus was thinking about his half-answered question which Dedryck hadn’t had any insight on and no one else would take the time to answer. They both nodded.

Fonsel shook his head. Almost nothing would dissuade his lord against fulfilling such an easy request. He swallowed his further criticisms for the time being but wondered how Lord Karsted would feel about some old lady training his son.

When they rejoined Dedryck they didn’t expect to find the same determined and satisfied look on his face that everyone but Fonsel shared. “... that would be effective. It's clear to see that you’ve trained many knights before. I have a question about… oh Lord Melchior.” He seemed prepared to launch into a glowing recommendation when Melchior said:

“Thank you for your dedication to training the temple’s apprentice knights. We hope to benefit greatly from your instruction.”

“Are you also training here at the temple, Lord Melchior?” she asked with a look of surprise.

“Yes.” She looked at Dedryck who had evidently neglected to share this fact and smiled.

“I see. That changes some things but not a lot. Gerianne, would you be so kind as to lend Lord Melchior your training sword for today?”

“Lord Melchior already has a sword.” Fonsel said and held it out towards Melchior. Dame Streita looked at the ornate sheath and chuckled.

“That old thing is a touch too heavy for our purposes. A wooden one will be better.” She took the wooden sword Gerianne normally used and offered it. With two sword hilts before him, Melchior suddenly felt like a different question was being posed but couldn't guess what it was. Gerianne nodded her encouragement and looked proud to lend her beloved weapon, and the metal sword was heavy, so he took the wooden blade. “Well let's line up then.” Streita said with a gesture of her stick. The apprentices lined up along with Dedryck. “Will you be joining us, Sir Fonsel?”

“Someone has to do the actual guarding.” He said and stood near the entrance to the courtyard with Lothar.

They began with 15 laps of running around the courtyard followed by two laps of skipping. “Try for 3/5ths jump height.” Dame Streita called from the center. This was 12 laps more than Melchior was accustomed to. He was also used to running by himself and quickly fell behind running at his normal pace. When he tried to speed up, she told him not to. By the end he finished after everyone had already begun their sword forms but was so exhausted he was happy to have finished at all. Skipping was a new movement and very tiring. He accepted a few sips of water from the tray of cups Lothar brought out at some point before rejoining the others.

“Good persistence, Lord Melchior.” Dame Streita praised. “I will show you the practice motions we are doing from now on. Gerianne come watch again.” Melchior looked over at Dedryck and Nikolaus. They were doing something rather complicated together, the tapping of their wooden blades echoing across the compacted dirt. “Don't worry about them. Watch me now.” She used her stick rather than summoning her schtappe. They were mostly the swings he was used to but they seemed to have a totally new feeling.

While swinging a “sword”, Dame Streita seemed like a different person; her motion quiet and restrained. Each strike was crisp while also flowing gracefully from one to the next. She looked absolutely relaxed yet perfectly precise. The basic set was for one handed sword and she repeated it again for her left hand. In the brilliant sunshine, Melchior could almost see her shining plate armor and glowing blade. Once she’d demonstrated, she began teaching them each part starting from the first motion.

They only got as far as the third swing when Lothar reminded them it was time for dinner. They all lined up before their new teacher. Dedryck and the apprentices crossed their arms over their chests and lowered their heads. Melchior was about to do the same but remembered just in time that he was not supposed to show deference to archnobles. Instead he said “Thank you for your instructions. I will not forget your lessons.”

“Now , now. You don't all need to be so formal,” she said. “It's good to have eager students.” Then she gave a formal goodbye and began walking back to the Noble's Gate. A grey shrine maiden materialized out of nowhere to escort her along with Gerianne.

Melchior was tired but didn't feel as weak as normal. He was able to walk with the necessary poise with only a little effort. Dedryck looked as though he hadn't done anything even mildly strenuous while Nikolaus still bounced with energy. For the first time in a long time Melchior had something exciting to tell Kirk. Lothar had to remind him several times to be still in the bath as he attempted to augment his tale with reenactments using his arms. The excited pair were finally calmed by reassurances that Melchior could just demonstrate his new skills after his bath. They skipped entirely over the massage so he could perform using a scroll stick from his desk.

“Alright, alright. It's time for dinner now.” Fonsel called from the door. Everyone's dinner would be delayed if Melchior continued for too long. The boys sadly put away their pretend blade so Sheila could carve a whole roasted bird and float pieces over a stew of poms. He ate heartily.

That night he drew Dame Streita doing the sword demonstration while Gerianne watched and remembered that he hadn't asked Wilma how to depict white hair. He decided to shade it in only very lightly and add fewer shadows. He was unhappy with the result so decided to draw Dame Streita by herself as accurately as he could remember. He showed his drawing to Dedryck to make sure he’d gotten it right.

“This is well detailed but it's still easy to see the form. Can you draw the motion between these two?” Dedryck asked, pointing to his sketches of the first and second motion. He considered what would be the halfway point then thought it was better to use the moment one transitioned into the other and did another sketch. “You learned a lot today,” Dedryck said. He asked if he could keep one of his attempts and encouraged him to complete drawings of the whole basic set once he’d learned it. “Won't it look amazing seeing them lined up all together?” Melchior couldn't argue against that logic and began considering it.

Before bed he felt motivated to compress an extra couple of buckets before falling into a deep sleep.

Work in the Castle

His entire body ached the next morning. He tried to hide it but couldn't help but wince when asked to raise his arms so Kirk could adjust his sleeves.

“Is something the matter, Lord Melchior?” Lothar asked with a touch of worry in his placid expression.

“I hurt all over, especially when I move. I don't know what it is,” he confessed. Lothar considered how a perfectly healthy boy could suddenly get full body pain.

“I will alert your guard knights and have them summon a doctor,” he said and walked through the door to the servants quarters. Sheila came in as he left with a confused expression on her face. Kirk and Melchior were left feeling uneasy but proceeded to begin breakfast so Melchior could leave for the castle on time. It was hard to enjoy the warm fluffy bread and eggs. He worked through the pile of sweet shredded vegetables without complaint but for once it was clear he didn't like them equally as much as everything else.

Eventually, Lothar returned looking sheepish and followed by Fonsel laughing. Fonsel pulled out a chair and sat across from Melchior.

“You will not ascend to the distant heights today,” he began. Melchior scowled. He didn't think he was going to die. He was just uncomfortable. “When you exercise vigorously, your muscles can feel painful the next day.” He took a piece of bread without really noticing until he'd almost taken a bite. “You can prevent it with a massage the night before but it's also helps to stretch in the morning. Do you want me to show you how after breakfast?”

“Yes. Thank you, Fonsel.” Fonsel smiled and took his ill-gotten toast to switch with Dedryck.

Nikolaus appeared as Fonsel was finishing his breakfast. After the meal was cleared away, everyone but Lothar did a few stretches together before heading to the Noble's Gate. This time Sigsnyr was waiting for them.

“Why are you here?” Dedryck asked.

“I thought you wanted to begin meeting at the temple instead of the castle.”

As he kneaded his temples, Dedryck groaned, “That was only for the Starbinding.”

“It was just because he was nervous about getting ready.” Fonsel called from the other side of his highbeast.

“Forget it,” Dedryck said. “Lord Melchior can ride with you.”

Sigsnyr smiled and offered a hand to help Melchior onto his horse shaped highbeast. Melchior still struggled to mount. The wings always seemed to get in his way but he refused to still be lifted onto them like a child. If anyone but his own retainers were around, whoever he was riding with would have their animal kneel but otherwise they allowed him to practice. His three temple attendants watched them rise into the air.

At the castle, they were greeted by Zargerecht and Haldis. Dedryck gave some final instructions before he and Fonsel left for their day off. His clothes and hair were redone but Haldis said Kirk was getting better at dressing. Melchior said he'd pass the praise along. Once he was ready he sat while Zargerecht told him his schedule for his days at the castle.

“Lady Florencia has requested that you store additional mana in your storage feastones and magic tool rather than the Divine Instruments. Next week you will be learning highbeast creation to make travel during the Harvest Festival easier,” Zargerecht delivered this information as though it weren’t the most incredible thing he’d ever said. Melchior could barely contain his excitement. He resisted the urge to say a prayer and took out his magic tool instead to begin storing mana immediately. “Tomorrow you have your clothes ordering for winter. Your autumn wardrobe will be brought for its final fitting at the same time. Your sibling's tea has been postponed for one day. Wilfred will be going on the highbeast feastone hunt but didn't want to go a second week without meeting with you and Charlotte.”

“Wilfred's going on a hunt?”

“Yes. He comes of age this summer so Aub Ehrenfest agreed to let him attend. This hunt only happens once every few years.”

“I would like to see him off. When is he leaving?” Melchior kicked his legs in spite of himself.

“You must be still, Lord Melchior.” He stopped his kicking and sat up straighter. “The hunt is leaving very early in the morning. Are you certain?”

Melchior nodded. “I get up early at the temple all the time. It will be fine.” Nikolaus couldn't stop a slight frown. He had to commute from the temple. If Melchior wanted to leave his rooms at first light he would have to get up before dawn. Haldis gave Zargerecht a nod. He was often up at that time and could handle getting Melchior fed and ready. Though Melchior wanted to ask more questions about the nature of the hunt, he was already going to be the last of his siblings to arrive for whirling practice. They finished their morning meeting and hurried away.

Dedication whirling couldn't be called difficult, strictly speaking. Melchior could whirl successfully but felt his own efforts lack something he couldn't pinpoint when compared to his siblings’ whirling. Wilfred had been selected to whirl as the God of Fire for the graduation ceremony. He seemed intent on delivering a powerful performance and gave his whirling an explosive feel somehow. Charlotte was determined to be selected as the Goddess of Light. The only other female archduke candidate of similar standing was from Drewanchel the fourth, one place above Ehrenfest. The only way she could be chosen was to be an overwhelmingly superior whirler. Melchior couldn't say what made her more exciting to watch then Wilfred but he found it difficult to look away.

Wilfred had long since given up on being better than his sisters. They had either an inexplicable passion for the art or incredible motivation to win. He was content to give a good supporting performance but Rozemyne had all but begged him on her hands and knees to give a blessing at graduation. She knew she was going to explode with blessings on the bittersweet occasion and didn't want to be the only one. He tried to back out by saying he didn't know how but Lady Hannalore of Dunkedelger had managed it so he felt he had to as well. Therefore, towards the end of practice his whirling would suddenly change. Both their instructor and his siblings had an agreement not to mention it for fear of embarrassing him but his efforts to develop a powerful, masculine whirl were all but erased. He became as nimble as flickering fire while blue light flowed from his outstretched hands and bathed the room in sparkles. It was a beautiful sight, more so now, in the summer, when Liedenshaft's powers were at their peak. Though the display was enough to take anyone's breath away, Melchior thought it a shame he couldn't watch it under the blue sky.

For Wilfred's final practice round he always summoned a spear to practice the pre-ditter ritual version so their instructor could give notes. For several months now there was nothing to say. It was perfectly executed with so much grace. The glittering golden spear spun in perfect sync above his glittering golden hair. Wilfred occasionally tapped it to the floor, punctuating his performance with a bell-like ringing that was normally impossible to hear outdoors but rippled the air in the ivory building. It was just a shame that almost no one else would ever see it. Wilfred generally led the pre-ditter ritual and offered his mana while standing still like Rozemyne tended to do. He said he didn't get a chance to practice as much as the knights and would embarrass himself. Charlotte thought he just didn't want to dance in front of other people if he had the choice. Melchior felt that even among a hundred whirling knights, Wilfred would stand out as the most beautiful and skilled.

As they all prepared to leave, Melchior shared his observation. “Wouldn’t your blessing whirl look beautiful outside?”

Wilfred looked at him quizzically. “Do you mean the spear-whirl? We do that outside all the time?”

“I think Melchior means the one you are practicing for graduation, dear brother.” Charlotte said.

“You think we should practice whirling outside. I guess we could but why?”

Alas, Melchior might have achieved his dream had he simply agreed with a casual excuse. Instead he said with a twinkle in his eyes, “I mean as a performance or a ritual. It's a shame only we few get to see it and always inside where the ceiling blocks your prayers from reaching the gods!”

“Ro… Melchior, I'm not whirling randomly for no reason. I just don't want to embarrass Ehrenfest. I'm not taking it up as a hobby like you.” He shook his head and quickly disappeared in a cloud of guard knights leaving his younger brother speechless.

“Don't listen to him, Melchior. Whirling is a beautiful art and a perfectly fine hobby.” Charlotte consoled him before leaving as well.

A shadow hung over his Magecraft lesson. He was studying simple magic circles. The return to a more rigorous curriculum meant this was now first year content. He had every intention of passing all his first year classes on the first day with perfect scores. He intended to come First in Class but would settle for being an honor student if someone were genuinely smarter than him. So he drew each circle carefully, aiming for an exact replication of the examples Lord Ferdinand left behind after teaching Rozemyne. He had a harder time creating his own new circles. He tended to space his glyphs and runes awkwardly. They still worked most of the time but lacked a beautiful symmetry. His instructor assured him it was normal to struggle in this way and encouraged him to take pride in his progress.

They didn't tell him he’d already begun second year material and could afford to take the lessons more slowly. His history and geography teacher had made that mistake. Both Melchior himself and Lady Florencia on his behalf had expressed that he had to stay ahead of his lessons in order to finish his later years classes in time for the Dedication Ritual and not to slow his lessons any slower than Charlotte’s had been, respectively. They’d been too afraid to point out that Charlotte’s syllabi had been easier or that Melchior had several years to acquire that more complicated material.

After each lesson, his Magecraft teacher had to spend the better part of a bell sanding clean dozens of practice boards. Once he’d accidentally energized a circle that summoned a small but long lasting flame and nearly burned down his quarters. The use of mana blocking gloves made the task just a bit more time consuming. Still a diligent student was better than one that tried to escape at every opportunity.

With his lessons out of the way he was free to enjoy lunch. Everyone had lunch in their own rooms or as part of socializing. Charlotte was often off visiting or hosting her friends. Wilfred generally ate in his dorm at the Knight’s Order.

“Do you think Wilfred was offended I said he should perform his dance for everyone?” Melchior asked no one in particular over lunch. Sigsnyr seemed like he wanted to answer but had to focus on elegantly eating as fast as possible. After a few moments, Haldis walked over and tried to reassure him.

“I think he was just surprised by the request and embarrassed by your passion. Perhaps if you ask in a more indirect way and have a good reason he would change his mind,” he offered though, thinking about the young man in question, he was less than certain. Melchior thought this over. That it would have to be during summer was the only thing he could come up with. Sigsnyr finished his meal at this point and said between standing up and switching places with Nikolaus outside, “Tell him you think it would look flashy and cool. That always gets him into things.” Had that been his mistake; calling Wilfred’s whirling beautiful?

When he’d still failed to come up with a solution by the end of lunch, he resolved to consider it later. It wasn’t all that important, was it? Zargerecht stayed behind while everyone else made their way to Lady Florencia’s office. While in the castle, he would help either his mother or his father with paperwork. Which was decided at some point by conversations between retainers. The usefulness of his retinue was much diminished without many working adults since Haldis insisted on doing his attendant duties of keeping the entire office topped up on tea and ink and paper and such. Thankfully he’d acquired an apprentice scholar last winter.

Isolde waited for everyone outside Florencia’s office. Her pale mint hair was always set in a tastefully elaborate style. Today, several braids were pinned into swags, one of which fell close to her powder pink right eye for a demure effect. Whoa be to anyone who thought she was a quiet beauty. Her primary skills so far were coaxing secrets out of reluctant people and looking incredibly stylish at all times. Her dress today was light blue with royal blue accents with an ochre cape of several yards of ultra-thin fabric from Alexandria cut asymmetrically and hung from both shoulders. Among her braids was a matching royal blue and gold, flower hair pin in an understated design. She was a true believer in a new, progressive Ehrenfest and followed Brunhilde’s trends and all the information Bertilde brought back about Sovereignty fashion. Her skills were sadly wasted on Lord Melchior who had little need for juicy gossip and women’s fashion.

Isolde wanted to be Charlotte’s scholar and follow her to fancy tea parties to record battles of wit but, as the heir apparent, Charlotte was overloaded with scholars. The apprentices were assigned year round to joint research projects to present at the Interdutchy Tournament while the adults assisted with preparation for the Archduke’s Conference, the printing industry, and information gathering for her faction. Rather than disappear into an army of scholars, and because she’d been declined, Isolde offered her services to the young Melchior. He did his best to show his appreciation for her efforts. He always read her reports and formulated a few questions to ask but could never think of any assignments to give her. She was also only a bit faster than Nikolaus at paperwork though her handwriting was much nicer. The most he could do was pass the more interesting bits to his mother or Charlotte, an outcome which seemed to satisfy Isolde for the moment.

He was excited to have something to ask her for once. “Isolde, what sort of men’s fashion is popular at the Royal Academy?” Just as she was about to begin expositing, Nikolaus jumped in.

“You need to be more specific if you want to have time left to help Lady Florencia.”

She gave him a terrifying smile and he went back to pretending to be an object in the background. “What do you have in mind, Lord Melchior? Men’s fashion moves rather slowly but preferred cape placement seems to change in waves every year. Last year it was the thing to hang one’s cloak over just one shoulder so I predict it will switch back to both shoulders this year.” She explained. “If you’d like to create a new trend, I have some ideas.”

He shook his head. He really had been too vague. “I want to wear more different colors. I know the uniform is mostly black and we wear yellow cloaks but besides that…” He didn’t want a repeat of Sigsnyr’s teasing so he mentioned what he knew about his imminent fashion changes.

Isolde also glanced pointedly at Sigsnyr but considered the question nonetheless. “I believe some of Wilfred’s uniforms will be altered for you.” Haldis offered.

“If you give me some time I can come up with some ideas. When will you be fitted for your Royal Academy uniform?” she asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” Sigsnyr said nonchalantly. She paled.

“Lord Melchior, why didn’t you inform me sooner? One day is not enough time to plan a wardrobe.”

“Is it not a scholar's job to collect information? Do you really need to be told about so important an event?” Sigsnyr prodded again. Her smiled didn’t falter but her indignation was clear in her eyes.

“I will endeavour to be better, Lord Melchior. No longer will your activities escape my notice. I will have the information you seek ready by tomorrow morning,” she said. Melchior wasn’t sure he liked the implication.

“It was my fault for not informing you sooner, Isolde. Whatever you can provide will be helpful. I will be sure to inform you of important events so there’s no need for you to increase your notice,” he assured her.

“I thank you ever so much but, my lord, what kind of scholar would I be if I could not remain updated on my own lord’s schedule without his assistance. You can be sure I won’t be caught unawares on you or your retainers schedules again.” She looked at Sigsnyr as she spoke. He smiled while Nikolaus retreated further into the ivory walls.

They were a touch late entering Lady Florencia’s office but work had gone on without them. Melchior greeted his mother and asked Lord Leberecht what they could help with. A stack of papers was already prepared on a table. One of the younger scholars currently rushing about ceded his place to Haldis and began working on his own collection.

Their pile consisted mostly of transcription. Melchior and Nikolaus set about reformatting some data about shipping in Leisegang and farming in Blon. A standard format was used for such records but the scholars that made these particular notes saw fit to ignore it. Melchior thought they should expand the use of the preprinted forms used in Ehrenfest and Groschel. For now he used a ruler to add the preferred lines to a short stack of papers. He kept this stack very close to his work space as it was liable to walk away otherwise.

Isolde spent her time reformatting and transcribing scrawled minutes from various meetings. Whoever had written them included their original notes. Somehow the revised version was more difficult to understand despite the minor improvement of having all the information written in the same direction. She puzzled through several sets of the same person's arcane scrawl before standing up with her newest attempt and its reference sheets. She walked to a particular scholar's desk and began to politely interrogate him. She came back several times to retrieve more of his work and only finished her consultation after Nikolaus and Sigsnyr switch guarding duty.

Sigsnyr was passably good at math and had neat handwriting. He was also the oldest apprentice and therefore the most educated. His only real problem was that he was more fidgety than Melchior. He had to switch sitting positions frequently and was the most likely to knock over something. Thankfully, he had quick hands and a suspiciously endless supply of handkerchiefs. Despite consistent refusals, he still occasionally tried to get Haldis to swap places.

Melchior found it easier to remain seated in the castle offices. They were much more lively and he could talk to his seat mates without ruining an oppressive silence.

Soon their time came to an end. Melchior said farewell to his mother. “I think you’ll be able to beat Wilfred soon. Be sure to give him a good game,” she said.

Footnotes

4.“How’d you end up here” or “what did you do to end up here” I think she’d be curious that a baptized son of the knight commander was an apprentice priest. Maybe it's more “What is a person like you doing in a place like this?”^

5.Without a proper environment or instruction^

6.“If you can't be fast be perfect” or “At least you do good work if not fast work”. Maybe derogatory or just not a compliment, I don't know.^

7. Mammutbaum God of Trees. God of my invention. Euphemism means “Skill is built up slowly over time.” or more precisely “Every opportunity to build skill is valuable and can’t be wasted because each one is unique and necessary for optimal growth.^

Chapter 4: Gewinnen and The Hunt

Chapter Text

Gewinnen and the Hunt

There was a multipurpose room on the boys level of the Northern Building. It was generally prepared to host small Gewinnen tournaments between Wilfred, Melchior, and their retainers. The current reigning champion was Dedryck. His position was so entrenched that the seasonal prize, some junk feastones or potions or something, now went to the second best and extra dessert was awarded to anyone that beat him. It was Dedryck's day off, so the competitive spirit was thick in the air. Alexis and Wilfred most frequently vied for second place. Lamprecht could beat either one on his best days but wasn't very motivated. Melchior was most closely competitive with Ignaz and Haldis though he suspected Haldis was more concerned with teaching everyone Gewinnen than decimating a room of children.

For the most part they played 2 or 3 stone games. Melchior still found it hard to wrap his mind around the number of units in 3 stone or above games. He’d been completely lost watching Sylvester and Karstedt’s 5 stone game a few months ago. Perhaps in deference to him or just for a more relaxed day, they were playing with 2 stones and 15 pieces. All types of pieces were allowed but no modifications could be added. Isolde had come along and was the only girl in the room. She and Nikolaus sat at a side table, playing a 1 stone practice game and talking about something while his face alternated between red and white.

Melchior sat across from Wilfred. They checked each other's pieces for residual mana but found none. Wilfred took each of his green pieces and lovingly placed a selection on the board. He favored a collection of attack pieces and one support. He almost never selected a scholar in low stone games. His style of play was aggressive. It was so aggressive that Melchior had a hard time predicting his moves. When he led his guard knights in hunts he always prioritized safety and cooperation. This made it all the more baffling to Melchior that he was so willing to sacrifice pieces in board games. Melchior often lost his treasure to Wilfred despite having a 3 or 4 piece lead. Today was no different but he felt he was in a better position than normal by the end.

“Ah! Just wait, my Flutrane will arrive one day8, Wilfred.” Melchior cried at the end.

“I expect Schneeahst will endure for some time9.” Wilfred said with a smile. “You won't beat me until Gebordnung’s candle has all but burned out10.”

“I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I just can't predict your moves very well.” Melchior said as he withdrew the mana from his pieces. He’d graduated from using a faestone recently.

“I think it's more that it's too easy to predict your moves. I can see everything you're thinking on your face.” Melchior covered his face and peaked out through his hands.

“No you can't.”

Wilfred laughed goodnaturedly. “That isn't it either. You look equally sad when you lose a piece as when you take a piece.” Melchior couldn't refute this. All the pieces were carved with smiles and looked like they enjoyed playing. He felt bad ending their good time.

“How can you leave your archer all alone like that? He must've been so scared.”

Wilfred grimaced. “They’re pieces, not people. They don't feel anything.” He said. “You won't win if you treat them like real people.”

“Isn't it a miniature version of ditter?” Melchior asked

“It's really nothing like ditter. It only pretends to be like a ditter. You have to separate people from things, Melchior.”

After the ranked matches, they only had time for a quick practice game. They had odd numbers so he gave his place to Nikolaus and sat with Isolde. Nikolaus gave him a look like Verdreos had personally descended. Isolde handed over her pieces to be checked. She was borrowing a spare set from the castle's collection. It was carved from wood and set with yellow stones and so old no one knew where it came from. “How was your game, Lord Melchior?”

“I lost again,” he said sadly and placed his first piece.

“It's nothing to worry about. Wilfred's five years older than you and practices against Archduke Candidates from other duchies. When you get more experience you’ll beat him for sure.”

“He says I’m too nice to my pieces. That I treat them too much like real people so I’ll never win.”

“That's silly. I reward my pieces with little names when they do something well.” She held up a lancer. “This one looks just like Fonsel, don't you think?” He took the piece and nodded. “Empathy generally isn't a bad thing,” she said.

They played a few more moves. Isolde seemed to have picked up the general flow of a strong opening which made Melchior curious.

“Do you think Rozemyne's good at Gewinnen?”

“I doubt it. Only men generally play.” Isolde began twirling a piece of her hair.

“But she's Aub now. She does a lot of things only men do.”

“Nothing an Aub does is something only men can do. Still, I don't think she has time to pick up anymore hobbies. Unless there's a book on Gewinnen, I doubt she even learned how to play.” They both giggled. Something about her answers sat with him though.

“Do you think Charlotte would want to play with us? She started doing knight training.”

Isolde looked around. “I'm not sure she’d be comfortable in this room so rich with the fire of Leidenschaft11.” Melchior glanced at Isolde, she was a girl and she was here. He hadn't considered that she would be uncomfortable. Wilfred and his retainers were always polite to her. “Before you ask, I’m just fine. If I'm to attend you during Royal Academy socializing I need to be used to this anyway.”

“So it is uncomfortable,” he muttered to himself. Isolde wanted to be Charlotte's scholar after all. Here he was dragging her to places and activities she had no interest in.

“You don't have to come to things like this. I’ll find a male scholar.” She gave him the same withering smile she’d given Nikolaus earlier.

“I can do my job. You needn’t worry.”

He wasn't quite sure why he’d been mistaken this time but knew asking was also mistake. Their game finished quickly and turned out rather close.

Once the games were complete and the two sets of retainers said farewell it was time for dinner. Isolde also said goodbye and renewed her promise to deliver her ideas about his clothes.

He had a leisurely time preparing for dinner and made his way to the dining room before anyone else. Wilfred was nearly vibrating with excitement. He blew in with confident steps. Charlotte seemed more tired. Melchior wasn't sure what she’d been up to during the day so he asked.

“I’ve had a very productive day, dear brother. Brunhilde and I had a tea party with some friends who went to the Starbinding. We also prepared reports on the printing industry and trade in Haldenzel for Father.”

“Does Haldenzel even get lots of trade?” Wilfred asked.

“It's mostly poorer commoners from Klassenberg but it's been increasing since we revived the ritual for summoning Spring,” she answered. Melchior wanted to ask more questions but Lady Florencia arrived at that moment. They greeted their mother and inquired after her day. She wore her ever present smile and looked much the same as always. “Didn't Melchior help in your office today, Mother?” Charlotte asked after exchanging pleasantries.

“Indeed he was quite diligent in completing transcriptions. Lord Tancred had such a lively exchange with your scholar about his note taking style,” she said. “I imagine he’ll be talking about it for some time.” Melchior beamed and resolved to inform Isolde but Charlotte interrupted his reverie.

“Is he really so upset, Mother? Many people have discussed this with him before.”

“Who’s upset?” Sylvester entered just then, a look of amusem*nt fighting with his exhaustion.

“Lord Tancred received some advice about his note taking.” Florencia answered.

“That old scholar of yours who takes bad notes?”

“I wouldn't call him my scholar. He merely works in my office since you were kind enough to loan him to me.”

“You are most welcome to make use of him for as long as you need. Though the Archduke's Office feels his loss most keenly, I could never retrieve him while he is yet of use to you.”

“He won't be terribly useful for a little while. He will likely need several days to digest Efflorelume’s advice to Angriff,” her voice took on a little pointedness.

Charlotte looked taken aback. “Surely he wouldn't say such things in your office, mother?”

“No, not in those words.” Sylvester answered. He kneaded his brows and took another bite of food. Both Melchior and Wilfred looked puzzled. Melchior knew it was his duty to ask, “What is Efflorelume's advice to Angriff?”

“It's much too crude for the dinner table. Wilfred tell us about your hunt tomorrow.” Sylvester said, stopping Charlotte from beginning to explain. Melchior gave Haldis a discreet look. Haldis smiled and came forward to refill his water. He’d meant to communicate that he wanted an answer later but maybe he was too subtle. They would need a new signal.

“Well, we’re traveling to Kirnberger then on to Huber the next morning. I'll be escorting the faestones back the same afternoon.” Wilfred began happily.

“Won't you be tired after the hunt?” Melchior asked.

“Well yes, but it's more important to get the feastones as far away as possible as quickly as possible or the adlerbrise try to steal them back.”

“Why do the birds want the faestones?” Charlotte asked.

“We have no idea. But I heard a story that Lord Justus went to hunt some and didn't believe the rumors. Lord Eckhart and Uncle had to race through the night to save him.” Wilfred answered excitedly.

Sylvester brightened at the mention of his little brother. “It isn't that he didn't know but he had to see for himself. He underestimated how tenacious alderbrise can be. They chased him halfway back to the capitol.” He paused to clutch his stomach as he doubled over with laughter. “Those three showed up at the Knights Order covered in feathers, almost collapsed, and in the end only brought back two stones.”

Charlotte and Florencia also laughed politely, their hands covering their mouths in near identical gestures.

“Have you ever hunted alderbrise, Father?”

“Yeah. It was kind of boring when I went though. It should be for Wilfred too if everyone does their jobs.” He smirked and he glanced at Wilfred who's fervor was mildly shaken.

“You always say hunting is boring but the knights seem very excited about it. The Knight Stories all seem fun too.” Melchior said.

Sylvester seemed to mull this over. “Eh. Knights mostly hunt in big enough groups that it's not all that dangerous.”

Florencia looked at him. “Would you want it to be dangerous, dear?” He scratched his ear and looked a bit sheepish.

“No, no. It's good that it isn't.” He searched for more to say. “I went hunting in the commoner forest once. That was very safe and also a great time.” The moment he said this he realized it was a mistake.

“I remember that as well.” Florencia said and sipped her wine. All three children had wide eyes. Charlotte and Melchior looked amazed and delighted respectively while Wilfred looked taken by jealousy.

“Why haven't I ever been to the commoner forest?” he cried.

“Because you haven't yet had to fight a trombe. You need only wait another year. Until then there's a perfectly dangerous and exciting forest here in the Noble's Quarter.” Florencia said with a smile to end conversations. Melchior was still very curious but knew it was best to follow his mother's lead.

“Can I visit the Noble's Forest? I’d like to do some drawings outside,” he asked.

“So long as all your guard knights are available to accompany you. But are the castle gardens not beautiful in the summer?” The castle gardens were beautiful but as they consisted mostly of flat lawns and rows of nearly identical hedges, they left much to be desired as an artistic subject.

“Yes, but I’ve drawn them many times.” He knew this was a poor excuse. He’d drawn Zargerecht and Sigsnyr a great many times too but never really tired of portraits. “There are no flowers in the castle gardens,” he ventured.

“There are many flowers in the greenhouse, though,” Charlotte began then thought better of it. The greenhouse was a very popular place for tea parties. With Melchior spending so few days at the castle and with even fewer free hours, it might be half a season before it was empty at a time he could visit. “I can lend you my hairpins. They are very realistic and you can draw them from the comfort of your chambers.”

It was a kind offer and one that would satisfy his mother's worries so he thanked her and accepted. She turned to her attendant who made a note on her diptych. Dinner ended with a bit more talk about Charlotte's plans for her autumn and winter accessories. She reminded Melchior that she would see him tomorrow at his fitting since she was taking the opportunity to order things while the Gilbertta Company was at the castle. It was the first Melchior had heard of this but he kept that to himself.

The first set of hair pins were delivered after his evening harspiel practice. He spent his evening sketching them then drawing the individual flowers in new compositions until he found one he liked. It would have red, orange, and yellow ruelle blossoms arranged to look like fire on a curling brown branch. He resolved to color it tomorrow and went to bed.

Morning Blessings

After his nightly compression, he snuggled into his blankets. Seemingly a few minutes later Haldis called him to wake up. Even before he opened his eyes, he could sense that his room was still dark. The sun wasn't shining into his windows. He was terribly annoyed to be gotten up just as he was falling asleep. “It is morning, Lord Melchior.” Haldis said, as though replying to his thoughts. How could it be and for what arcane purpose did he need to be awake before the sun. “You wished to see Lord Wilfred off on his hunt. Have you changed your mind?” Haldis almost sounded hopeful but Melchior was not in the mindset to notice such subtleties.

He sat bolt upright, suddenly energized, and flung his sheets aside. “I’m up. I’m ready. Let's go see the knights.”

“You must be dressed first.” Haldis said. He picked up a candle he’d placed on a nearby table and began lighting the sconces near the vanity.

“But I’m just coming back to bed right after?” It seemed like a waste and a hassle to change twice before the break of dawn.

“You cannot be seen in the halls of the castle in your bedclothes.” Haldis said as he coaxed him into fresh underwear and a tunic. He then sat him in front of the mirror and brushed his hair.

“Won't it just get tangled again?” he asked.

“Then we will brush it again.” It was one the greatest battles of his life to remain still and dutifully wash his face. When all the endless preening was finally complete he made to race out of his room. “We must wait for your guard knights.” Melchior could have screamed. He ended up merely grunting and flopping into a chair. “Even when you feel frustrated, you must not forget good etiquette.” Haldis stared down at him. He stood up and sat back down properly. At least Haldis said nothing about him kicking his legs. When he heard the night guard give a salute he rushed to the door himself and threw it open. Dedryck looked down at him in surprise.

Dedryck grabbed his charge by the shoulder and steered him back inside. “Why are you opening the door. You have attendants for a reason.”

“We’re going to be late,” Melchior cried.

“That doesn't matter. It's our job to keep you safe and take care of you. What if I were here to kill you?” Dedryck asked, his voice threatening to raise. Melchior stopped to ponder this. He looked at Haldis who nodded gravely.

“If you wanted to kill me then if Haldis opened the door you would kill him?” he wondered aloud. Dedryck was confused but nodded. “Then wouldn't it be better for me to open the door? Then you could kill me and leave Haldis alone.” In response it was quiet, almost peaceful, for the first time that morning. Dedryck's eyes flashed several different colors while his face bloomed an angry red.

“Our lives cannot be compared, Lord Melchior.” Haldis said. He stepped between the boy and his guard knight. Then he knelt and crossed his arms. “It is my duty to protect you even at the cost of my own life. That is part of my pride as an attendant.”

“Father says it's our job to keep the people of Ehrenfest safe. I don't want to let more people die.” Melchior whispered. He looked down at Haldis.

“That isn't what he means,” began Dedryck. Haldis cut him off again.

“I am already an adult, Lord Melchior. I’ve obtained my schtappe. Even against a trained knight I would not be useless. There is a much higher chance that both of us survive if you allow me to protect you.” He smiled. “Please allow us to do our jobs.” There was another greeting from outside the door and Nikolaus stepped in. He looked at the scene before him, his lord close to tears, his boss looking irate, Haldis looking the same as usual and decided it was best to relay the message he’d been given and ignore the tension in the room.

“Lord Wilfred is setting off for the Knights Order momentarily. He invites us to accompany him,” he said. All eyes turned to him and each person fixed a noble smile to their face.

“Thank you, Nikolaus. We should be ready to depart.” Melchior answered and looked at Haldis again who nodded.

They waited for Wilfred's group at the landing for the stairs quietly.

“Feeling tired, Melchior?” Wilfred asked as he joined him. He glanced at Dedryck. “Not one for early mornings?”

“I’m ok. Are you ready for the hunt?” Melchior tried to conjure the enthusiasm from a few minutes ago. They walked through the castle, quickly leaving the Northern Building for the launching balcony the knights tended to use when commuting to and from their dorms. Wilfred summoned his lion then lifted Melchior onto it. Several knights seemed to want to say something about it but who could argue with two Archduke Candidates before first light. They flew quietly through the dark. Wilfred spent their journey talking to his guard knights about the upcoming days. The low rumbling of his voice and warm security of his arms made for a comforting flight despite the morning chill. Melchior almost fell asleep but knocking his head against faestones armor woke him back up.

When they landed he was groggier than when they’d left but he martialed his smile and forced a bounce into his step. The other hunters seemed surprised and amused to see him. “Are you to accompany us as well, Lord Melchior?” asked one of the younger knights. Another knight came over to tousle his hair. “Of course not, you fool. This is the High Bishop of Ehrenfest, surely he’s here to bless the hunt.” A few women mingling as a group walked over together. One chimed in, “Little Lady Rozemyne used to bless the Lord of Winter Hunt every year. If Little Lord Melchior blesses us, we’re sure to have success.” Dedryck and Nikolaus quietly adjusted their position to give him a bit more space as more and more knights rotated in to give their greetings and make kind-hearted jokes.

He wasn't the only kid there to see off their sibling or parent. After a few minutes of milling the children were corralled together. “Good morning, Lord Melchior,” his friend Adaire greeted him brightly. He seemed fairly lively.

“Greetings, Adaire. Greetings, Pepin.” Pepin gave a very quiet reply. He was hiding towards the back.

Adaire fluttered around and began pointing out his older sister and brother and their friends and sharing stories about their many accumulated accomplishments. “Oh, Lord Melchior! Teach me a blessing for hunting. I want to bless Emery,” he begged.

“Of course , Adaire.” Melchior thought for a moment then created a prayer like the one for Leibeskhilfe. “O God of Hunting Schlageziel, of The God of Fire Liedenshaft's exalted twelve, we pray that you grant Emery your divine protection.” A blue sparkle disappeared into the crowd followed by grumbles and a very loud “Why me!” Adaire quickly chased it down to explain and layer on his own blessings. Some of the other kids took inspiration and mixed back in as well. Pepin took the opportunity to move closer and hide behind Melchior. He shrank even smaller under Dedryck's watch.

“Do you want to bless Lamprecht?” he asked Nikolaus. He’d been friends with Nikolaus before the Winter Purge and renewed their acquaintance at the Royal Academy by frequently taking refuge in the young knight’s shadow. Thankfully for him, he was fairly small while Nikolaus was large for his age. Nikolaus didn't answer but Melchior added, “You can if you like,” and Dedryck added “Be quick.” through gritted teeth. He went over and quickly gave a blessing then returned without a word. Lamprecht scratched his head and looked after him. He followed Wilfred over.

“Melchior, why Schlageziel?”

“You're going on a hunt.”

“Yes, that's true but it would make anyone feel like you don't have faith in their hunting ability.” Both he and Nikolaus went a bit pale.

“That's not what I meant at all.” Nikolaus whispered.

“I think he's joking.” Pepin said much too quietly for anyone to hear.

“Well what kind of blessing do you want!” Adaire flung himself into the conversation.

Wilfred gave a performance of thinking deeply. He smirked. “No one could be offended by a blessing from Greitechan or Steifebrise. One always needs more luck and speed.”

“Aren't you hunting Steifebrise’s pets? Would she really bless you for that?” Adaire said. Melchior was already pale and thus had no more blood to drain from his face.

His voice cracked as he asked, “Are you really?”

Wilfred looked at the boys with exasperation. “They are not her pets. Just because they're names sound similar doesn't mean there's any connection. Besides, it you want a highbeast, don't you?”

“I suppose.”

“Just count it as one of the thousands upon thousands of lives you consume. Don't worry about it.” Now both Melchior and Nikolaus frowned. Melchior never skipped his premeal prayers even when he was the only one saying it. He would still give them a blessing but he felt almost more sure that they shouldn't invite Steifebrise’s attention.

He poured mana into his ring and intoned “ O Goddess of Luck. Greifenchan, of the Goddess of Water Flutrane's exhaled twelve, we pray that you grace the hunters of Ehrenfest with your divine protection.”

It was a rather large hunting party. Hunting anglebrise wasn't hard, per say, but not every house could furnish knights strong enough to secure stones by themselves. Not to mention that every noble child needed a highbeast faestone. It was very common to both call in and promise future favors to secure hunters for one's house. The cost of joining or adding a knight to the duchy’s hunt was far less than buying a highbeast faestone at any other time. This was partly due to the danger but mostly because the population of alderbrise was strictly controlled. The last thing anyone wanted was to have to import such an expensive and important material. All this to say that the blessing consumed a fair bit of mana and shone brilliantly in the predawn. A few lights flashed on in the dormitories. Wilfred directed a couple apprentices to run and reassure the people inside then spun on his heels to tower over his brother

“Aren't you supposed to be saving your mana for the highbeast I’m so generously bringing back for you,” he said. Melchior smiled sheepishly.

The leader of the hunt arrived and ordered everyone to form up. Once instructions were given the kids all gathered and waved the knights goodbye and shouted well wishes.

Melchior returned to the castle, his bedclothes, and his bed. Haldis also shuffled Nikolaus into a spare room and put him down for a nap. Once Dedryck was dozing calmly near the door, Haldis sat down himself. He was used to waking early but normally spent his time eating and dressing and preparing his lord’s room at his leisure. It was surprisingly tiring to stare down an angry knight first thing. He looked at the desk beside him. Melchior’s hairpin studies were neatly stacked in two piles; one for recreations and another for original compositions. He found it hard to reconcile the delicate lines with the young man who'd suggested braving a sword to save his retainers. It was a kind sentiment but one he must be rid of as well.

Footnotes

8. The power to defeat you will be mine one day. ^

9. A response to “Ewigeliebe in Spring” style comments. “I'm not without power just yet.” Using a subordinate god instead of Ewigeliebe himself implies you don't think your opponent is much of a threat. ^

10. “You need more experience playing properly.” or “Luck won’t help you against experience.” ^

11. Full of dudes or masculine energy. ^

Chapter 5: Blue Fitting and a Day off

Chapter Text

New Designs and Blue Clothes

Zargerecht was the one to wake and dress Melchior on his second rising. He put his lord in a thicker undershirt and socks. They were a bit too warm for summer but would better protect the wearer's modesty. He also pulled his hair up, away from his neck, for easier measuring.

After a quick breakfast, Melchior traveled to the Main Building. Haldis carried Isolde’s report. It wasn't very long due to the time constraints. Melchior would have time to read it while waiting for Florencia to discuss with the tailors. When they arrived the discussion was already on going but didn't show any sign of slowing down. Haldis gave his greetings and stood by to speak for Melchior while he moved to a different room with everyone else to be measured.

The tailors held rulers up and wrapped tapes around him. He tried to peak at their notes to see if he’d grow much but had to remain relatively still. Uncharacteristically, Zargerecht seemed to ignore his obvious curiosity, opting to smile calmly but say nothing. His feet were also measured for new shoes. Then, three sets of breeches and tunics were tried on. The short pants were all the same dark blue while the tunics were three different shades. The embroidery was done in a similar shade to his bottoms with a sprinkling of yellow details. The stitching method would allow them to be expanded in the hopes of them lasting through to next year. He’d have his cloak by then and these accents would coordinate with it. It was a tasteful selection. Even his new socks would have elegant bits of navy blue embroidery. He could barely keep his smile on as he thanked the workers, put on his regular clothes, and joined his mother in the other room.

He felt even less enthused when he saw the many bolts of blue wools and pale linens neatly placed on tables for his mother to peruse. She seemed to be deciding between two near identical light blues.

“I like this one, mother,” he offered, selecting the one with a little more green than violet. She held it up to his face then continued speaking with the tailor.

“We shall do this one then. The embroidery on his autumn tunics was well done. I'd like something more formal and with more decoration for this winter outfit.” She pointed out several samples and selected silvered thread for an accent.

“Would your ladyship like to add any accents in the divine colour of winter?” Haldis asked.

“Don't you think red might look a bit garish with such dense embroidery, Haldis? It's better to be more understated.” She continued looking through samples. Melchior's heart sank a bit lower. She glanced at him in the midst of the design process. “Oh dear, I know clothing isn't the most exciting thing for boys. We will be finished quite soon. Zargerecht, are Wilfred's uniforms ready for fitting?” The black and ochre clothing was laid out on another table with more black wool. One of Florencia’s retainers was discussing various blue trims and soutache with another seamstress.

Zargerecht guided him to a chair and served him tea and cookies. He was eventually paraded back to the fitting room to try on Wilfred's uniforms. Once that was done he was brought back and put back in his chair. This was done once more to try on his temple robes. At no point did anyone ask him any questions. Haldis remained near his mother but seemed to say less and less as time went on.

Eventually, Charlotte arrived. Those seamstresses not engaging with other nobles kneeled in greeting. A second chair and cup were prepared at Melchior's table.

“Greetings, Charlotte. How was your morning? Are you here to order hairpins?”

“What a beautiful morning it is, brother. I see the cloth options are just as beautiful this year.” She drank a whole cup of tea in one go and had a few cookies before speaking up again. “I’m looking to use crocuses this year. Maybe in red and white. What do you think?”

“Thank you again for lending me your hairpins. In the ones you sent over, you have crocuses in the other seasonal colors. That would complete a set,” he said.

“Now that I think about it I do have some in red as well.” They sat quietly for a little while longer.

“I didn't see any snowdrops,” he offered. Her response seemed a bit delayed but after a moment she replied.

“I do appreciate the adorable snowdrop. I fear it would be too simple for a hair ornament by itself.” She continued to look a bit listless and distracted. The siblings sat quietly while their retainers conversed with the craftspeople.

Haldis came over with some papers in his hands. He offered Isolde’s report to Melchior. It covered a few observations on the clothes of greater dutchies and Prince Hildebrand. It also recommended adding additional blue festoonments to Wilfred's existing yellow embroidery over swapping it out completely and suggested buying a new ochre sash to supplement his existing collection. Besides that there were notes on asymmetrical closures for tunics and surcoats. Melchior was used to seeing the highly detailed notes on women's fashion Isolde was passionate about. By comparison, this information was sparse and orthodox. He reminded himself that she’d had less than one day to assemble it and thought up some compliments to give it.

Haldis had also offered Charlotte some papers. In contrast to her disappointed younger brother, she seemed both interested and excited by the documents. She called over her attendants and even her guard knights seemed to be trying to look.

“Dear brother, I don't recall having any hair pins of this design in my collection. Did you draw someone else's arrangement?” He looked up from his lackluster report and took in the bussel. She placed down a paper with three sketches and indicated the one near the bottom. Once he got over his initial shock of seeing his work magically appear somewhere other than where he'd left it, he shook his head. She smiled brightly.

“Lord Melchior drew these after drawing studies of your collection. I believe the one third from the bottom is the most elegant of the attempts.” Haldis informed her. Melchior wanted to ask why Haldis was showing his practice to other people, his refined and fashionable older sister no less, but the pair were busy. After confirming which picture Haldis wanted to highlight, Charlotte took a moment to consider it more closely. From where he was sitting, Melchior couldn't see the drawing. He was both nervous and curious to know what seemed to catch their eye. If it were the ill conceived collection of wintery sunflowers, he wasn't sure he could survive the scrutiny.

Charlotte’s retainers leaned a respectable distance closer and waited for their lady’s word. “I also think it's quite novel. Are ruelles not purple? I believe they would look very striking but might lack cohesion with my other clothes. She placed the paper down next to the previous one, finally allowing Melchior to see it. It was the fire ruelle branch.

“Oh, I was going to paint that one,” he sighed, feeling relieved it was one of his better drawings. “I thought red, orange, and yellow flowers would look pretty, like fire, on the branch.” This seemed to cause renewed interest in the piece. “May I have my drawings back?” He tried to reach out and begin collecting the two pages nearest at hand but both were whisked away. Haldis placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

The hairpin craftswoman was called over and shown several of the drawings. She explained the feasibility of various designs. The craft had grown nearly as refined as Rozemyne's personal craftswoman’s had been before she moved to Alexandria. More people were available and different shops had distinctive styles. The Gilbertta Company still boasted the most innovative techniques but even their representative seemed slightly daunted by the ruelle branch.

“You can carve it out of wood, no.” Charlotte asked.

“Yes, your ladyship. The branch section would have to be made from wood or metal to preserve the realistic feel of the art work. If you would forgive a humble craftswoman for making a suggestion, a large piece such as this would benefit from resting on a comb instead of the traditional pin structure.”

“Wood would be more comfortable than metal, Lady Charlotte.”

“A comb would make it far more secure.” Her retainers added.

They settled on the details and added a few other selections to the order.

“Haldis,” Melchior turned to his attendant, “Why did you bring my drawings?” He also hadn't asked or warned his lord before sharing them.

Haldis performed a look of confusion. “Did you not create these designs to offer Charlotte? You studied her preferences so diligently.”

“I was practicing. Nothing was ready to be shown to others.”

“I thought them quite refined already. It is a true shame floral hair accessories haven't become popular with the men of Ehrenfest or I too might have ordered one of your design.” He then gestured towards the excited gaggle of noble women and girls seriously discussing various drawings. Melchior wanted to flee the room but that would leave his half formed ideas in the hands of his critics. He was then distracted by the realization of what Haldis said. He was a boy. They didn't wear flora hairpins anyway. He’d had so much fun drawing new designs he hadn't stopped to consider that it was all for nothing. If he didn't offer them to Charlotte or some other girl, they would dwell in his files forever, never to be brought to life in thread.

He was suddenly slightly panicked. “Could I order a hair pin just to keep on my shelf?” He asked. He racked his brain for other justifications. If he created something he truly loved it would be very sad to never make it.

“Oh but wearing an accessory is what truly makes it shine,” one of Charlotte's guards floated into the conversation then quickly turned her attention elsewhere.

“I could start a trend for men.” He declared but Haldis shook his head.

“I fear you would be the only one. Only women wear flowers in their hair and most men's hair isn't long enough for hair pins.”

“I bet you could talk Sigsnyr a into it.” Fonsel muttered loudly enough for others to hear. Sigsnyr wasn't on duty at the moment despite begging almost on his hands and knees to be in attendance.

“You don't have to wear it in your hair, Lord Melchior. You could place it on your belt. I think that would be quite fetching,” one of Charlotte’s attendants said. This drew attention to him instantly.

“Would you like to order a hairpin as well, dear brother?” Charlotte looked openly amused.

Melchior considered his options. Would he truly be happy just to have one on his shelves? Wouldn't he lose or damage it if he tried to stick it in his sash or a potion belt? He looked at himself then his sister’s knights lined up along the walls behind her. Maybe he could secure it somewhere more out of the way.

“You could place a small bundle on your lapel.” Haldis offered. The girls giggled their assent. He thought about how such a bundle would look on his father or uncle’s clothes. He tried to imagine Wilfred haphazardly pining a rose to his shirt and knew instinctively he’d end up with a hole there after one training session. It would need to be placed somewhere both safe and showy. The only ornaments of any similarity to his imaginings were the brooches used to secure everyone's capes. All of his elders nested their registration brooches into decorative holders for formal events.

“Could I pin it next to my brooch?” Everyone considered this. A girl took one of the examples hairpins and held it next to Nikolaus's brooch. It didn't look similar enough to the settings his father used. “Would you lend me a pen?” Haldis produced a pen magic tool and offered it along with a piece of plant paper. Melchior thought about the ruelle branch design he was planning to paint. If the branch were round or forked, you could nestle a faestones into the design. He drew a pattern similar to the metalwork pendants Rozemyne had gifted her siblings. In the end, the art it was comparatively crude next to the hairpin version but Melchior could see himself wearing it without risk to its safety.

Haldis offered it to the hairpin crafts woman. She tried to maintain a smile but looked conflicted. “Your Lordship, please allow me to compliment your creative vision. If I may make a small request so that we can realize your genius?” She waited to receive an invitation to continue. “While we of the Gilbertta Company are able to create such a piece, we would require precise measurements of the stone to be set into the wooden holder.” Melchior didn't have his registration brooch yet. As he thought about asking someone to lend him theirs for reference, Charlotte said:

“Father can make whatever size and shape you’d like, within certain constraints. You can design your ornament without worry.” Everyone seemed to be surprised by this news except Nikolaus. It seemed this service wasn't offered to everyone.

“Why don't you take some time to refine this drawing. We can send the reference paintings to the craftspeople at a later time.” Haldis said. He finally began collecting the sheets of paper. Several had to be pried from the hands of devastated girls. Only the ones containing Charlotte's orders were allowed to be taken away. The ruelle branch was also returned for him to refine.

“It looks like we will have matching flowers. Won't that be wonderful!” Charlotte said as she took her leave. Melchior continued doodling after saying his farewell. His mother called him over to test a few more fabrics then released him to return to his room. By then it was time for lunch.

Isolde joined them for lunch. They were going to assist Sylvester that afternoon so she argued she might as well eat with them.

“Thank you for your report, Isolde. I found the information about asymmetrical vests very interesting,” Melchior said after they ate.

“I apologize for offering such poor work, Lord Melchior. Rest assured that my report for your spring wardrobe will be up to my usual standard,” she responded.

“I didn't say it was bad.”

“You wouldn't say it out loud so I said it myself.” She sipped her tea prettily then looked very serious for a moment. Melchior straightened up in his chair. “I heard you debuted new hairpin designs for Lady Charlotte at your fitting.”

“That only just happened. How did you hear about it so quickly?” Melchior was horrified.

Isolde gave a knowing smile. “My information gathering skills are simply that keen. Also Charlotte’s attendants were rather boisterous in the hallways.”

Haldis once again produced the drawings unbidden while Melchior put his head in his hands. Isolde happily flipped through the pages muttering about whether Brunhilde would like this or that and maybe sunflowers should be left well alone in winter. Melchior tried to change the subject.

“Mother said her scholar was upset by your advice. She didn't seem mad at you though.”

“Yes, that old man was very rude when answering my questions. I'm sure he is angry someone told him his notes are useless to everyone.” She didn't even look up from the drawings.

“Did you really say that!” Nikolaus asked. He shuddered at the thought of speaking so rudely to his elders.

“His notes are terrible even for a medscholar. How many years has he been working that he can't even take good notes.” She took on a mocking tone “‘I’m the only one that needs to understand them.’ isn't a good excuse when they obviously end up in other people's hands.” She finally got to the bottom of the stack. “What's this round one? How do you get it into your hair?” She held up the brooch sketch.

“It's a cloak pin. A new idea of Melchior's. He wanted a matching hairpin to Charlotte’s but…” Haldis gestured in his general direction. Isolde squinted and tipped her head, studying him.

“I think it would be rather pretty.” She said eventually.

“Men don't want to be pretty.” Nikolaus said. Melchior thought back to his compliments on Wilfred's whirling. Calling it beautiful really was his mistake.

“They should. Everyone likes pretty things," she countered.

“It would make him look like a girl. His hair’s already long.” Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to Nikolaus. Haldis shook his head. Melchior was so excited to match his father. His hair wasn't even long enough yet to truly mimic the Archduke’s wild ponytail and now he might insist on cutting it off. Short hair was very boring for an attendant. Until Melchior started growing facial hair, mid length styles were the best Haldis could hope for.

Melchior contemplated this. He didn't necessarily want to be mistaken for a girl but maybe he could upgrade from adorable to pretty. The way people cooed at him as though he were a baby was endlessly embarrassing.

Isolde rolled her eyes. “No one's going to mistake him for a girl,” she said. “Sigsnyr’s hair is twice as long and no one mistakes him for a girl.”

This was untrue according to Nikolaus. Before he’d met Sigsnyr properly, he once mistook him for a girl and was thoroughly teased for trying to help the older boy up after he fell in the snow. How could he say this though, people were only just starting to forget.

Melchior saw an opportunity for good feedback. “Do you think my registration brooch would look pretty nested into the flowers,” he asked.

“Oh, is that what you intend to do? I think that sounds lovely and suitably masculine,” she nodded then leaned in conspiratorially, “Wouldn’t it look just dashing if all your retainers had matching ones?” She touched her own brooch.

“I don’t think Lady Charlotte would want to match Lord Melchior’s retainers. You would have to create a second design, my lord,” Haldis also had a crafty look about him.

“Be sure to order extras for the additional retainers you’ll gain at the Royal Academy. The registration faestones all have the same dimensions so it will be easy to commission spares.” Zargerecht added. He’d been quietly sorting through notes and reports since lunch ended.

“If they are only for your Royal Academy retainers, won’t Sir Dedryck and Sir Fonsel feel left out?” Isolde asked. Haldis slipped outside immediately and returned with the answer that no, they would not feel any loss for being excluded. So it was decided without any input from Melchior. He would design a similar enough but distinct arrangement for his retainers.

“Since the order will be quite large and also a novel design you should finish the sketches quickly. We can summon the craftsmen to the temple for the meeting even,” Haldis said. Nikolaus, who similarly felt dragged along, could only stand quietly by the wall and wonder how things got so out of hand.

They went to assist the Archduke that afternoon. The Archduke’s office was very similar to the first wife’s office except that there were more people. Melchior’s group was therefore directed to a nearby meeting room and assigned tasks there. Fonsel used his superior status to force Nikolaus into the scholar’s chair. Dedryck and Isolde were given the most complex work while Nikolaus was given anything that required simple math. As the youngest and least capable it fell to Melchior to draw templates.

It was expensive to buy the preprinted forms from the Planting Company, but the benefit of having a unified system was immense. As a work around, Sylvester found it was currently cheaper to have an apprentice scholar hand draw the templates. Not many apprentices found the work engaging enough and often slacked a bit on neatness. Either the presence of Melchior at their work table or the fact that either he or Sigsnyr always ended up doing the drawing meant that their templates were the nicest and most carefully done. As such, he was often asked to produce as many as possible within the bells he served in the Archduke’s office. He didn’t mind the work but wished the scholars would allow his pile to accumulate so he could bask in a job well done before it disappeared into their slavering maw.

By the time dinner was upon them, everyone’s eyes and seats hurt. Melchior said farewell to his father who also looked spent and dragged his retainers away. Isolde went home. “I look forward to your new creation.” she said as she bounded away.

They invited Brunhilde to join them for dinner since Wilfred was off hunting. Without the need to accommodate his dislike for her, Melchior had to sit in his usual place. She and Charlotte discussed Charlotte’s new uniforms and hair pins. Melchior was made to promise to show her his new design once it was completed as well as his other arrangements. He immediately began thinking of how to hide his worst attempts somewhere Haldis couldn't find them. He didn’t ask her about adding more colors to his wardrobe. Zargerecht had told his mother already and she’d chosen to stick with the all blue palette. Surely that meant she was opposed to the idea.

After dinner he had his usual harspiel practice. He was currently learning a composition about a joyful spring day. Today he felt too complicated for the happy little song. He wasn’t allowed to shorten his lesson at all though and had to sing it several times.

That night he drew Dedryck again rather than working on the brooch or hairpins. He added a flower to his hair to see how it might look. Dedryck asked him if he could keep the drawing, then folded it and secreted it into a pouch somewhere, never again to see the light of day, much to Fonsel’s amusem*nt.

Melchior wasn’t sure whether he should compress his mana before bed. He needed to save some for his highbeast stone and he didn’t feel like he had much extra after giving the blessing earlier. But Mammutbaum dwelt on a mountain of precious sticks so he did a couple buckets worth anyway. It was much harder to accomplish with less mana to work with.

Portraits in the Sun

The next day was his day off from studying. He was also barred from assisting in any offices and exempt from potential knight training. He often spent the day reading for fun, playing karuta or Reversi with his guard knights, or drawing still lives and portraits. He asked about visiting the Noble's Forest but not only were all of his guards not present, you also needed to make an appointment. It would be at least 2 weeks before they could go since summer was such a popular time for hunts. The greenhouse was also in the midst of a summer cleaning and maintenance so that was out.

Isolde appeared in time for the morning meeting. There was no work that would fit her job description but how could Melchior tell her to go home now that she was here. Sigsnyr harried them for information about Melchior’s fitting but no one wanted to talk about it. Melchior was exhausted. Haldis had other work. Zargerecht was spending the day helping with Melchior’s little sister. Nikolaus could think of nothing more boring and Isolde took more pleasure in keeping her secrets from Sigsnyr than most other things. Dedryck didn’t even dignify his question with a response.

“How terribly cruel you all are,” he said and sulked by the wall.

For the morning, they walked around the castle gardens. Haldis set up his easel so Melchior could do a lack-luster rendition of flat ground and hedges. Isolde produced a handkerchief to embroider. After a third great sigh, Haldis suggested he draw some portraits outside. Dedryck seemed reticent to sit for another piece but everyone else took a turn.

Sigsnyr offered a displeased expression as his inquiries continued to be rebuffed. His hair was plastered to his head and gathered into a low ponytail with an ochre ribbon. He laid the end on his shoulder. The resulting image made him look so delicate it rendered his rage ineffective, giving him the impression of being a pouting little miss unable to buy some bauble she wanted. Isolde asked if she could buy it but Sigsnyr declined to give his permission.

It would be the first time Melchior had drawn Isolde. He was glad to have some experience with rendering rinsham washed hair from Haldis and Sigsnyr. He felt it looked strange to draw a person with no ears but Isolde’s hair blocked them in its current style. She also had small braids in a few places. Making these too detailed made things look muddled but he didn’t want to give up on them completely. Worst of all Isolde suffered from a similar affliction to Gerianne; her hair was too pale to draw on white paper. At least in the bright sun it felt too pale. Melchior didn’t like to use outlines most of the time. Wilma had praised his excellent use of shapes and light and he’d taken it to heart. There just weren’t enough shadows in their hair to match his style.

He sat still for a long time, considering a solution.

“What’s wrong, Lord Melchior? Are you taken by her beauty?” Sigsnyr asked. Both artist and model gave him a glare.

“Her hair is too pale to draw.”

“Too pale?” Isolde and Haldis both asked. They gathered around the easel. Haldis was focused on the problem but Isolde couldn’t help but be impressed by the drawing itself. She looked about 30% more beautiful than normal. He’d captured her relaxed posture as she worked her embroidery. Rather than using the much easier pose of both hands in her lap he’d opted to depict her mid pull. Her hand had a confident energy as it held the thread at its most taunt. She looked far more placid and gentle than she ever did in real life. Isolde knew both her attitude and facial features were sharp. They were still sharp in the drawing but they carried more strength with less severity. Maybe he was taken with her beauty or did he just dislike drawing ugly things.

“You could simply imagine her hair is a bit darker and add in the shadows where you feel they would go,” Haldis offered.

“You could leave her hairless too,” Sigsnyr added. Melchior would try Haldis’s suggestion. It was ok but he felt that he wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t have colors to properly realize what he saw.

“It’s my first time drawing you, Isolde but you can keep it if you like.” Melchior passed the paper to her. She looked at it for a long time.

“I don’t know what I would do with it,” she said finally.

“Give it to your mom,” Nikolaus said. He was initially upset when his father gave the picture he’d given him to his mother rather than keeping it. But, allegedly, she’d cried upon receiving it which, apparently, was a good thing. “Mothers like that kind of thing.” Isolde nodded and accepted the drawing. She retrieved a little embroidered bag and offered up a small silver.

Melchior refused. “You don't need to pay me. It's a gift,” he insisted.

“Lord Melchior, good portraits are quite valuable. Just the paper is precious.” She handed the coin to Haldis who put it away before Melchior could protest further. Art was an expensive hobby. Lady Florencia was willing to subsidize her son's interest but paper was still a significant cost to his chambers. Haldis was ecstatic when Charlotte offered a design fee for each of the hairpins. She’d even sent her retainer over discreetly since everyone knew Melchior would balk at asking Charlotte to pay for anything of his she might ask for. Haldis had been warned his new lord was prone to gifting things with little regard to their value. He knew it was his job to collect on those kindnesses.

Seeing her example, Dedryck also produced a small silver. Sigsnyr grumbled but offered up a large silver in the end.

“I wasn't trying to sell you all drawings when I gave them out!” Melchior cried.

“Yes but you’ve given me so many, and sometimes I ask for them,” Sigsnyr said.

“How many have you taken?” Isolde asked.

“It would be best not to tally it,” Haldis said.

“I don't think a large gold would fully cover it,” Nikolaus added.

“I don't see you offering up compensation, Nikolaus,” Sigsnyr countered.

“I am a poor priest,” Nikolaus looked nervously at Melchior. He hadn't received nearly as many drawings as Sigsnyr but it was still more than he could afford to buy.

“You don't need to pay me. No one needs to pay for them. I won't give anymore away if you insist on it,” he declared. Nikolaus was relieved but Sigsnyr and Isolde looked at Haldis. His face said that even if Melchior wouldn't accept payment, he would.

After lunch he stayed in his room and read a few knight stories and a book detailing the history of farming in Ehrenfest. It seemed that at some point Leisegang had invented a new kind of wheat and then spent the next hundred years making sure no one could forget it. The Archduke had rewarded them with this record of their contributions to shut them up. It was naturally very dry reading but Melchior was on a quest to read every book in the book room, even the boring ones.

Once he couldn't handle it anymore he decided to teach Isolde how to play Reversi.

“It seems simple but the pieces are hard to pick up,” she said. He agreed and assured her that the game had a lot of depth. They played a few practice rounds on smaller sections of the board then she played against Nikolaus. It was surprisingly close but he managed to win. She was frustrated and demanded a rematch but Nikolaus took his victory and escaped. Sigsnyr maintained a much better lead and willingly played 3 games.

Eventually, Isolde went home to have dinner with her family and Melchior got dressed for dinner with his. He was the first one there, as he so often was, and was treated to each of his family members appearing in a different state of tiredness. Charlotte has a similar listlessness as she had at his fitting. His parents seemed to lean against each other as they ended a conversation using sound-blocking magic tools. Most exhausted of all was actually Wilfred. He seemed barely able to lift his feet and almost couldn't keep his head up at the table.

“Wilfred, your posture.” Florencia corrected.

“Mother I just flew halfway across the duchy,” he groaned.

“You aren't the only one who's tired, Wilfred,” Charlotte countered from her seat with her back straight as a staff. Wilfred seemed ready to snap at her too but Melchior interrupted. He’d waited too long already to hear about the hunt.

“How did it go, Wilfred! Did you have fun? Was it hard?”

Wilfred seemed to perk up a bit. He took a moment to expound on his struggles of the day. “We had to get up crazy early again and that's after riding all day to Kirnberger at a snail's pace.” Hunting alderbrise happened just after day break when they returned to their nests after a night of foraging. Hunters then had to shoot the birds out of the sky and catch them before they hit the ground all in half-light. “One person didn't catch one. It exploded when it hit the ground and the faestone broke into a hundred pieces. He was devastated.” Charlotte looked a bit queasy at the mention of exploding birds but Wilfred continued undeterred. “Judith hit one directly in the faestone. Luckily they landed in a net or it would have been impossible to catch them.” He went on to detail his harrowing flight home while loaded down with faestones in a mana-proof sack. By the time he was finished everyone had finished eating except him. Charlotte asked to be excused.

“I’ll brew your highbeast stone tomorrow so it’ll be ready for use when you get back to the castle,” he assured Melchior.

“Thank you Wilfred. I’m so excited for my own pandabus.” The remaining family members grimaced in unison.

“Gruns are not a appropriate animal for a highbeast.” Florencia said.

“Just use a lion like me.” Wilfred chirped.

Sylvester stroked his chin. “I honestly want to let you try. See what you come up with.” He mused. Florencia looked at him. “But no gruns,” he added.

Since he didn't have harspiel after dinner on his days off, he took the opportunity to visit his younger sister. She sat in his lap so he could read her a picture book. The moment he finished she wanted to hear it again so he read it twice more. Then he told her about his life in the temple and Dame Streita and his new highbeast. She fell asleep midway through his recounting of the conversation he’d had in the orphanage about the new manuscripts being printed. Her attendant took her to bed with a grateful smile.

He was nearly too excited for bed by the time he was in it. Charlotte’s retainers had traded his for a new set of hairpins but he was much more invested in drawing ideas for his highbeast. He’d only seen a few animals either as real animals or as highbeasts. This did not prevent him from brainstorming dozens of ideas. He tried to turn other animals into a “bus”. Charlotte’s drivable shumil barely looked like a shumil after all. He doodled a shumil with a mane and got Nikolaus to laugh at it. Most creatures were too sleek to compete with the chubby grun. They didn’t provide for the kind of space a pandabus required. He went to bed without making anything final and dreamt of fat animals.

The next morning he did his normal lessons. Wilfred was excused from whirling. He ate lunch by himself then gathered his favorite highbeast concepts to take to their weekly siblings tea. Charlotte said it was a good opportunity to practice good etiquette without much pressure. So, he dressed fairly formally. Besides a slightly more decorated version of his signature blue tunic, Haldis added a pair of tie on sleeves and a cream colored capelet held together with silver clasps. Strangely enough he’d never worn the cape anywhere but his siblings' tea. It was a common article for Prince Hildebrand, apparently, so Brunhilde had gifted him one but he thought it was too flashy for any occasion. Now he would get his own Ehrenfest cloak and would just wear that instead. Maybe he would have a fancy tea with Brunhilde just to wear it for her.

Once he’d finished dressing, Isolde was allowed to enter his room. She asked what he planned to discuss with his siblings and what he hoped to accomplish during the tea party.

“I was going to show them my highbeast ideas. Other than that we normally just talk about what we did last week.” He wasn’t quite sure what she wanted him to say but she seemed unsatisfied with his answer.

“Lord Melchior, you must go into socializing with a plan. If you allow your interlocutors to dictate the pace of conversation, you will find yourself spilling all your secrets and gathering none,” she intoned.

“It’s just Charlotte and Wilfred. I’m not trying to steal their secrets.”

“You should be. They are trying to steal yours.” He looked at Zargerecht for help. Surely his siblings weren’t using their weekly tea just to ply him for information. Not only would that make it a stressful occasion but he didn’t have any satisfying secrets for them to learn.

Zargerecht nodded. “I imagine they are looking to learn more about you and keep track of your feelings and activities. While that’s simply good politics I believe they also care about you and want to maintain a good relationship,” he encouraged. Isolde had more hard words though.

“It's rare for siblings to be as cozy as you are with Wilfred and Charlotte. Winning the aub seat means beating your siblings after all.”

“I don’t want to fight Charlotte!”

“If you want to be aub you will have too. But you're a boy so that makes it easier.”

“Charlotte’s going to be aub.” he said. It had been decided when Wilfred’s engagement to Rozemyne was broken.

“Not necessarily. You have every right to compete for the seat,” Isolde balled her fist and stared into his eyes. Her pink irises glowed with competitive fire.

“I don’t want to be aub,” Melchior insisted. He glanced around at his retainers as they breathed a collective sigh. Fonsel shook his head.

Isolde sat back in her seat and sifted lazily through his drawings. “We all have to do things we don’t want to do. You should think about what you want to accomplish at your tea party.”

They sat for just a few more minutes. He didn’t like the implication that he should be trying to “accomplish” anything during a needlessly fancy, casual tea party with his siblings but he considered it dutifully. He wanted to hear more about the hunt. He also wanted to know why Charlotte seemed so tired lately. Was that enough of a plan he wondered. He didn’t ask Isolde.

Chapter 6: Siblings Tea and and Exciting day

Chapter Text

Tea With Wilfred and Charlotte

At the appointed time he walked with Haldis, Isolde, and the guard knights. It was Dedryk and Fonsel for the day. It had been more than the usual number of days since Dedryck’s last day off. Melchior hoped he would find a day to rest. He could technically order him to take a day off but Dedryck insisted that Melchior should leave the scheduling of knights to his head knight and not worry about it. He’d been very persuasive.

The siblings had an agreed upon order of arrival that rotated each week. Whoever was first had to greet whoever was second as their superior while whoever entered last had to greet the other two as their superior. Melchior didn’t like being second. It felt strange every time his older siblings knelt before him.

Wilfred took a knee looking much refreshed since yesterday and began his greeting. “I am overjoyed that our threads of fate were woven together again despite my recent battles taking me so far away. I pray that you are well, Lord Melchior.” He seemed ready to break into laughter as Melchior tried to keep a noble smile.

“Thank you for your prayers, Lord Wilfred. May our futures be bright.” They both sat and carried on light conversation about the weather and the food served for their lunches. Charlotte entered after a short interval and knelt to greet her brothers.

“I am pleased beyond words that Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven our threads of fate tightly together and allowed us to meet once again.”

“We are pleased as well, Lady Charlotte.” Melchior spoke as the highest status individual for the day.

Wilfred’s idea of dressing up meant he wore a surcoat with more embroidery and a fancy setting for his brooch. He opted for green to match his eyes. It was the same outfit he was planning to wear for graduation if he made it that far without another growth spurt. Otherwise, he never wore it anywhere else. Charlotte, on the other hand, had impressive depth to her wardrobe. Melchior always enjoyed seeing what new combinations would appear. Her main dress was a dazzling Leidenshaft blue with resist dyed floras in a paler blue on the bottom portion of the skirts. The flowers were rendered as thin outlines and difficult to make out in the folds of the generous fabric making for a more abstract pattern. Her inner sleeves were of the same color and extended all the way to loops around her middle fingers. Embroidery was done over her hands that matched the goldwork of her ring. These inner sleeves were visible from the wrist to elbow and occasionally through a great slit along the biceps. She wore two sets of outer sleeves. The first was made in the same light blue as the flora details. The second, outer sleeve, was in a gossamer, ochre fabric. As it was the same fabric as her cape it gave the impression that her cape flowed over her shoulders and down her arms. The neckline of the outer dress cut a low sweep across her chest. Rather than being finished with decorative tape as usual, many individual royal and light blue flowers with golden stamen were arranged across the arch and down dangling golden chains. To cover her collarbones, thin linen in countless tiny pleats traveled from the dress neckline to a tight embroidered collar. It was becoming fashionable for these collars to be made of only interlocking embroidery.

Melchior had seen this dress before and the collar was a staple of Charlotte's outfits. The flower trim had been transferred between two other dresses. It was apparently more expensive than the rest of the outfit combined so that made good sense. What was new were the floaty golden sleeves.

As the host for this week, Wilfred took the first sip of tea and bite of the sweets to begin the tea party. “Your sleeves are really cool, Charlotte,” Melchior said after they’d recounted to her their conversation about the weather and food. She smiled warmly in a way she only did when something truly pleased her.

“You noticed my new sleeves. I had fabric left over from making this summer cape. Sister gave us so much on her last visit,” she said. Rozemyne had begun visiting each year after the Archdukes Conference and opening the county gates. She’d agreed to help Zent Eglantine open the gates in exchange for being able to use them for trade activities. She and Ferdinand would visit three in addition to Ehrenfest while the Zent visited the other two. Ehrenfest’s gate was still closed but Rosemyne used the teleporter to bring books and other goods to trade as well as lavish gifts for her friends and family. Preparing return presents was becoming almost as significant a job as preparing for negotiations at the conference.

“Truly you share Ewigeliebe’s passion for clothes12. You talked about nothing but fabric last week as well,” Wilfred interrupted.

“Lord Wilfred, Lord Melchior's winter fitting was upon us last week. As you know, clothes say so very much about the measure of a person,” she looked him up and down.

“Men don't need to care as much about clothes. Only armor concerns Angriff13.” Wilfred scoffed. Melchior wasn't sure he believed that considering Wilfred's love for elaborate ornamentation. Everything from his schtappe to his full faestone platemail was covered in sculpted lions.

It was no surprise when Charlotte replied “Does our very own Angriff not concern himself very much with Kunstzeal’s approval14?” Someone's attendant coughed quietly.

“As we speak of aesthetics, how goes your preparation of a new highbeast, Lady Charlotte?” Wilfred steered the conversation.

“As I've been very satisfied with my original highbeast for so long, I find it difficult to conceive of it in any other way. Perhaps I’ll gain some new insights while teaching Lord Melchior the basics.”

“You'll be teaching me about highbeasts?” Melchior asked, unable to believe his ears.

“Indeed, Lord Melchior. I am delighted to the bottom of my heart to teach you all that I know,” she replied. Melchior was beside himself with joy. A new highbeast and a whole afternoon with his sister were in his future. His time in the temple couldn’t pass fast enough.

“You’ll want to be ready for your lesson.” Wilfred said as he produced a white leather bag and sat it on the table with a muffled clunk. He pushed it towards his little brother. Haldis stepped forward with a mana-blocking glove already on his hand to inspect it. After a few checks he offered the bag to Melchior. “Be sure to dye it completely over the next few days.” Wilfred added.

Melchior opened the bag. Inside was a perfectly clear faestone the size of his fist. He poured in a bit of mana. It disappeared so fast and so completely it seemed like he hadn't added any at all. As he poured in more and more it seemed like he could keep adding mana forever and make no progress.

“I think it would be best to wait until you can fill it at your leisure, Lord Melchior.” Charlotte said. He stopped but held the bag reverently. Haldis stepped forward again and extended his hands as though Melchior had shown any indication of willingness to part with it. “You should entrust it to your attendants for the time being,” Charlotte said with the same smile their mother gave when her advice was really a command. He gave it to Haldis and resisted the urge to pout.

“Thank you ever so much, Lord Wilfred. I appreciate the great efforts you went to to prepare it for me,” he said.

“You are welcome,” Wilfred said. He looked like he wanted to talk about his great efforts so Melchior asked. “Well you’ve heard most of the tale already. I won't repeat myself lest I make for poor company.” He thought for a moment.

“Did you see anything interesting over the wall, Lord Wilfred?” Charlotte asked.

Wilfred’s enthusiasm waned for a moment and he shuddered imperceptibly. “Well a bird someone grazed flew out over the white sands. It fell. Then it was gone. All of it seemed to disappear.” He didn't elaborate further. Instead he changed the topic again. “You were going to draw some designs, what did you come up with?” Haldis brought forward the selected drawings and split them between Charlotte and Wilfred's attendants.

“Is this a shumil with a lion's mane?” Charlotte asked. She giggled behind her hand. The older pair looked through the offerings. “Lord Melchior's been designing all kinds of things of late. Did he show you his new hairpin ideas, Lord Wilfred?”

“He did not, Lady Charlotte. A consideration for which I am most appreciative. I do not wear hairpins and have no interest in them otherwise.” Wilfred looked a bit annoyed.

“You don't want to order one for your escort for graduation?” Melchior asked.

“Oh yes, Lord Wilfred. You don't want to be caught without if you select a partner too late,” Charlotte added as she put down her selection of papers to watch him squirm. “Melchior also conceived of a new accessory for men. Perhaps that would draw your interest.”

Wilfred held the final drawing in the stack. “That explains this then. It looks like more flowers.” He shot Melchior a questioning look.

As Melchior thought about what he would say to Haldis for showing his rough doodles to everyone, he explained his idea to Wilfred and offered to design one for him if he wanted.

“If you do something that isn't flowers, I’ll consider it.”

“Are you certain, Lord Wilfred?” Charlotte asked. She placed her hand to her cheek in a performance of worry. “Lord Melchior and I will have matching brooch and hairpin. You’ll be the only one without.” They watched as Wilfred's dislike for flowers and dislike of being left out battled behind his eyes. In the end, his dislike for flowers won out and he held his ground.

The siblings finished their tea. As the one of highest status, Melchior would leave first. “It seems Dergarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today's threads with exceptional grace and speed. May ours be woven tightly together.” he said and collected his retainers. Isolde looked right at home taking notes beside Charlotte’s scholar. She had a radiant smile as she fell in behind him.

Upon returning to his chambers she burst from excitement and began sharing her notes from the tea party. Melchior let her recount the conversation he'd only just had then offer her notes. He had Haldis give him back his highbeast stone but promised not to exhaust himself filling it before dinner. Isolde pointed out the points he could have pressed for more information. He didn't want to press his brother on what scared him during his hunt or why he didn't have an escort for graduation. He also couldn't see himself taking his weekly time with his siblings as an opportunity to shill his portraiture services. “If you do not practice these skills with your siblings, you won't be ready to use them with other duchies,” she chided.

“I would rather have a pleasant time,” he argued. “Which reminds me. Haldis, you need to ask me before showing other people my drawings.” He tried to look forceful. It was his job as their master to chastise his retainers. He would bring down judgment swift and sure.

“Did you not want to offer Wilfred a brooch as well? Were you going to simply describe your idea? I thought you'd want a visual aid for something so novel in concept,” Haldis replied. The wind went out of his sails immediately. Nothing Haldis said was false. He could see himself struggling to explain then sending someone back to his room for the drawing anyway.

“Still, tell me before you do next time,” was all he could manage.

“Yes, of course, my lord.”

He allowed Isolde to use his desk to transfer her notes to a sheet of plant paper. She also commandeered one of the paper boxes he’d begun storing his drawings in for a new collection she titled “Notes on Siblings Tea”.

He was dressed more casually for dinner that night. Lord Bonifiatus was invited. He and Sylvester filled the table with tales of alderbrise hunting. Wilfred had missed his opportunity to eat one by being the courier. He was devastated.

When he returned to his room his harspiel instructor had been replaced by his easel and prepared paints. “You must finish painting your new designs.” Haldis said with a smile to intimidate the Knight Commander. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to draw at the moment, Melchior worked on his and Charlotte's accessories and the new design for his retainers. He made the top of his brooch nearly identical to Charlotte’s hairpin with a red, orange, and yellow set of ruelle flowers climbing a dark branch. He opted for a forked design and made the bottom fork a silver blue branch with hanging parue fruits still capped with prominent calyxes. They would probably have to hang from little rings or something but he wasn't sure so he didn't detail the attachment.

With the two winter gods thus represented he could design his retainer’s brooches to match himself but not Charlotte. For these he copied the silver branch and added three hanging fruits or a white ruelle. His retainers could decide among themselves which they preferred. He carried this inspiration into a silver version of the hairpin. He added three flowers in three stages of bloom like he’d seen in a drawing once. He didn't know how anyone would create the jewel-like fruit out of thread. Perhaps you could glue a faestone in it.

He left the paintings to dry and drew a few more ideas for matching sets of accessories. Haldis allowed him to draw more high beasts so he did a few more of those too. He drew a regular lion with a crown of koralies and a chubby lion with side windows. He also drew a horse with a small ornate cart and a cart with a picture of a horse on the front. Then a boy riding a very small lion just as it was time to go to bed.

The Coming of Dame Streita

The next morning he got up a bit early and transferred mana from his storage feastones to his highbeast faestone. He had too much mana to store it for his entire childhood like a laynoble but he still had a few to store purely his own mana. More often his magic tool was drained into a regular faestones to be used during mana replenishment, the Dedication Ritual, or for blessings. It was beginning to turn the faintest blue by the time he had emptied two of them. It was also time for breakfast so he returned his stone to its pouch.

Zargerecht dressed him and added his sibling medallion from Rozemyne. It had a space for a large faestone which he planned to use for his highbeast. It was also set with seven smaller charms; each for a different mana color. Half were for protection while the other half had the symbols for gods he wanted the protections of. He chose Unheilschneide to obtain the light element and hopefully remove some chaos from his life , Mestinora for wisdom, and Vucanift because he couldn't imagine living in such a way as to earn his protection organically. Rozemyne had recommended choosing at least one god you had nothing to do with since you never knew what life might throw at you. He couldn't add his highbeast stone until it was dyed so he felt even more pressure to finish. Unfortunately, it was time to travel back to the temple.

They were greeted by Nikolaus and his three temple attendants. The hem of his robes had already been extended.

“I did it myself!” Kirk said and explained his expert use of the iron. He also listened to Melchior wax poetic about his new highbeast and all the comfort it would bring to their lives.

“Rozemyne used to make her’s big enough to transport all her Gutenbergs. I don't think I'll be able to do that but I can make it big enough so no one has to use a carriage. The Harvest Festival will be so much easier this year,” he promised.

“Lord Melchior, it isn't generally acceptable for a noble to transport commoners with their highbeast. Lady Rozemyne was very dedicated to efficiency but you need not follow her example,” Lothar said.

Fonsel nodded as well. “I don't think you realize how much mana that takes either. Unless you also have more mana than the Zent you won't be able to do it.”

This was terrible news. He couldn't even dye his highbeast faestone, there was no way he had more mana than the Zent. He pulled it out again and began dyeing it but was once again interrupted.

“Lord Melchior,” Lothar began, “We must discuss the coming of the new shrine maiden.” Dame Streita was moving in tomorrow. She’d already sent over her bedding and chosen a few blue robes from the collection of used ones. There wasn't much for Melchior to do except perform the fealty ceremony the next day. Lothar gave him a couple wooden boards to review. “Lord Zargerecht also asked that we summon the Gilbertta Company so you can place an order for a hairpin and brooch. We will have them visit in two days. I will deliver the summons.” He added this last portion to calm Kirk before he could ask to be the messenger. With his schedule communicated, it was time to go to the orphanage for morning lessons. His faestone was mournfully left behind in his chambers.

Melchior took his drawing of Gerianne with him to the orphanage to ask for Wilma's advice about the hair. The children were given time to play karuta since they were planning to send them all out to work all day in the forest during the move. The reason wasn't important to Melchior so he didn't actually ask why the sudden tournament was underway. He had to focus on winning. Had he asked he might have learned that because Dame Streita didn't like children, they were going to ensure the orphanage and temple were empty of them when she came to select her new attendants. Apparently she insisted on “observing their work ethic” personally. His harspiel instructor noted that he’d skipped more than a day of practice and lamented that he would miss the next day as well. The day was proving to be a great one.

As they made their way back to their rooms for lunch, Gerianne asked Melchior about his time in the castle. She was especially curious about the food and the highbeast hunt. Her parents had promised her one too since she was starting the Royal Academy this year.

“Perhaps I’ll begin dyeing my highbeast stone as well.” She mused.

“What beast are you going to use?” Nikolaus asked.

“The great schnestrum, servant of the God of Winter,” she replied immediately. Both boys oohed as she smiled triumphantly. “What about you, Lord Melchior?”

“A lion, I think.”

“That's very fitting. I wonder how I will practice flying. I suppose I can visit my parents more often once it's complete but their estate isn't very far away. Flying to the castle must be good practice.” She looked at Nikolaus. He nodded

“It was hard at first but you get good at it quickly when you have to fly a lot,” he said.

They all parted ways with Gerianne who looked after Nikolaus jealously. After lunch, Melchior skipped his normal walk around the temple and hurried to the training yard. Dame Streita had just arrived. He and Dedryck lined up with the other two while Fonsel guarded the entrance.

“This is the last time I'll be commuting from the Noble's Quarter. It must be nice to stroll over casually from your chambers. Reminds me of my girl days at the Knights Order,” she laughed.

They started with a brisk walk after all since everyone had just eaten. As they marched in a square she noted that they really should train before lunch or before breakfast for best results. Melchior wondered what the time of day had to do with anything but thought better of asking. They moved on to running and skipping. He was just as tired as last week. When would he be better at running?

Dedryck and Nikolaus filled the courtyard with loud tapping as they sparred with staves. Gerianne practiced her forms off to one side. She had learned the rest of the sword forms while he was away so he was by himself under Dame Streita’s gaze. On the plus side, she brought him his own sword this week and even said he could decorate it if he wanted. He was momentarily distracted by thoughts of how to paint it but was brought back by a firm tap between his shoulder blades. “Watch your posture. If you learn it wrong you’ll never get it right.” He learned a few more moves and watched Gerianne perform the entire set while feeling like he was being left behind.

Before they gave their fairwells, Dame Streita gave each of the boys a wooden board detailing some training for them to do in their spare time. Melchior’s consisted of a few exercises he could do in his room and running. He would have to find somewhere to run in the castle. “I'm bringing more of my equipment with me, so we’ll have a proper environment for training,” she said before disappearing with a swish of her cape.

He had less excitement to fuel his walk back this week. He also didn't skip out on his massage but patiently endured it before demonstrating his new moves for Kirk. After dinner he drew what he’d learned again. Dame Streita’s riding gear was purple this week. He preferred the green one so stuck with that. Lothar and his knights had a conversation while he drew so he couldn't check them with Dedryck this time. He would ask him later.

Instead of compressing before bed he dyed his highbeast stone. As it drained more and more he pumped mana out of his well. The color of it grew paler and paler until it was perfectly clear. As the “water” level finally began to dip, the faestone flashed signaling it was completely dyed. He cried out then reassured his attendants that nothing was wrong. It was a touch too big to fit into its holder. He would consider that problem another day as moving to much mana and training left him so tired he couldn't keep his eyes open. Kirk took the stone to store in his desk and looked into the deep blue for a few minutes before heading to sleep himself.

His second day in the temple, Dedryck finally took his day off. A lunch was prepared for Melchior and Nikolaus. They would spend their day in the orphanage and workshop so Melchior’s retainers could assist with the move. Dame Streita’s things absolutely could not fit in a single carriage. She was given the largest room on the shrine maidens floor so all her things had to be carried up stairs. Several unattached gray priests were borrowed from the orphanage for Lothar to instruct. Kirk was overseeing the assembly of the shrine in Melchior's room in preparation for the fealty ceremony the next morning. Sheila would prepare meals for everyone involved as well as Dame Streita’s lunch plus get her chefs settled in the kitchens. No one would have time to attend to Melchior but there were plenty of extra hands in the orphanage to take care of him.

These tasks should have fallen to any number of other people, like Dame Streita’s own attendants, but Melchior had agreed to the one week deadline and felt responsible for rushing everyone. It only felt right that he should suffer the indignity and chaos rather than Kazmiar who was already drowning in work or Philine who had already done her best with a difficult situation. Even Fonsel was impressed into service to handle the training equipment. Not only had the gray priests never seen most of it, some items could be dangerous if miss handled. In Fonsel's opinion, Nikolaus could be trusted to protect his lord so long as he stayed in one room. Surely Melchior couldn't manage to endanger his own life in a childproof building.

The other blue apprentices were told to stay in their rooms so only Nikolaus and Melchior were in the orphanage that day. Melchior reviewed his boards and watched the other kids begin to assemble in their foraging clothes. He called over one of his friends, a younger boy who liked to follow Wilma around and so was often present during his drawing lessons.

“Lyle, is everyone going to the forest today?” Melchior asked.

“We need to collect a lot of wood for the paper while it's warm so everyone is going today.” He knew it was too cold in winter to make paper and also that their duchy couldn't produce it fast enough. It was also an important product for the orphanage. Selling paper and printed goods provided most of their income.

“You must need all the help you can get.” Nikolaus said and turned back to his studying.

“The more hands the lighter the work they always tell us,” Lyle said.

“Maybe we should help too,” Melchior said. The little boy shook his head.

“You’ll get your robes dirty.”

Nikolaus also shook his head. “It's dangerous out in the forest,” he said. Dedryck would surely kill him if anything happened to Melchior. And it he did not, Sylvester would.

“Father said the commoner forest was safe,” Melchior argued. He looked down at his clothes. “Don't we have extra second hand clothes?” he asked. He knew it was part of the budget at least.

“Oh yeah, we do in the boys’ building.” Melchior was filled with hope. Nikolaus was also filled with hope. He was very curious about a forest safe enough for untrained children. Both the Noble's Forest and the Royal Academy grounds were terrifying places full of dangerous beasts where only the most fleeting moments of tranquility could be found. In a last effort to convince himself to make the right choice he said, “ We should ask Sister Philine.”

The boy shook his head. “Sister Philine said she was very busy today and to save anything that wasn't serious to tell her later,” he reported, obviously repeating a speech he’d listened to. It would seem the decision was in their hands. What child could resist the allure of the woods. Nikolaus waited for Melchior to decide. Lyle also waited in anticipation, there weren't a lot of kids as big and strong as Nikolaus seemed to be. He could carry a lot of stuff which would mean more food for dinner.

Melchior had already made his decision back when Nikolaus said he could be helpful. The whole conversation after that was figuring out how to go about it. With clothes and Nikolaus’s agreement secured they were ready to go. “Take us to the clothes storage,” he said.

Nikolaus lost a bit of his resolve in the face of the clothes. They’d been washed by the gray priests but still had stains that would never come out. They were also patched in places and rougher than anything he’d ever touched. It was also a problem that neither he nor Melchior had ever dressed themselves. They needed Lyle’s help to get into the trousers and tunics. Nikolaus knight uniform was simple enough that he could keep his undershirt and just roll back the sleeves. Melchior had to find a shirt too. It was a bit too big and the sleeves only came partway down his biceps. The loose weave was kind of itchy too. Thankfully, the longer pants covered his socks so he didn't have to take them off. They also kept their boots. Once they were properly dressed in rags and had nicely stored their clothes in a box, Lyle gave them each a basket and knife. They joined the other kids as they were leaving the gate. The gray priests standing guard didn't even look twice in their direction. Their hair was fairly shiny but a few orphans spent their paper-making wages on cheap rinsham so they didn't stand out too much.

The guards at the main gate were not so easily fooled. For one, they had seen Melchior before and despite his meager appearance he sparked a distant recognition. But no one would expect the High Bishop and son of Aub Ehrenfest to appear before them amidst a throng of scruffy kids with a gathering basket. Additionally, he and Nikolaus just had a different air. The temple orphans were more polite than commoner children but they still had the carefree look of childhood. Nikolaus looked like he could stare down a faebeast while Melchior held himself with a dignity that even wealthy merchants would struggle to emulate.

“I’ve never seen you two before.” The gate guard said.

“This is our first time visiting the woods. We’re here to help our friends,” Melchior answered with a smile. The guard glanced at his left hand. Both Melchior and Nikolaus quickly shoved them into their pockets. He slipped his ring off and tried to look nonchalant as he grabbed the strap of his basket again. The guard couldn't help but be suspicious but he also wasn't going to interrogate a pair of children going to do a normal childhood activity. Plenty of rich kids snuck out with their friends to experience gathering for the first time. So what if these kids were particularly rich. Wouldn't it be worse to offend them if that were the case.

“Where do you work?” he asked. If they ran into trouble he wanted to know who to call for answers. Kids their ages generally had jobs. The big one must be skipping out even.

Melchior said the first name that came to mind, “The Planting Company.” Who in Ehrenfest didn't know the Archduke's daughter's pet company. Only the sons of the most wealthy and influential merchants were lehenge there. The guard sighed in relief. Kids working there were bound to be exceptional and unlikely to cause trouble by skipping work and disappearing into the woods. They no doubt had permission and a reason to be out gathering. They even procured used clothes to protect their nice uniforms.

“Be safe, and stay with your friends,” he said and waved them through. The temple orphans had waited for them. They all walked together into the forest.

Into the woods

By the time they reached the river and spread out to begin foraging, Melchior was already tired. He thought he walked plenty in the castle but this was farther than he ever walked in one go. Lyle had him wait by the water as they pulled bark from a circle of rocks. Once he recovered, he and Nikolaus followed the others into the bushes to search for food and usable wood.

He used his knife to cut small branches and plants and his hands to dig roots. In just a short time he was tired again. Nikolaus worked on, a sweat forming on his brows while the other kids all but frolicked along unaffected by their toil. It was a huge blow to his ego. He felt it was only right that trained knights be stronger than him. Gerianne had more time to train so that wasn't surprising either. To be out done by children younger than himself left him feeling defeated. He worked and rested at intervals but his basket barely filled up. Lyle kept adding more things to Nikolaus's basket and disappearing back into the underbrush. Melchior made it all the way to lunch but found he couldn't go on. He realized too late that they’d forgotten the lunch Sheila prepared in the orphanage. The steamed potatoffels were tasty and someone had retrieved some fruits so he didn't go hungry. He stared in confusion at his dirty hands for a good while before Lyle showed him how to wash them in the river.

“I forgot. Brother Syl didn't know how to wash his hands either,” he said as he demonstrated.

“Brother Syl?” Melchior asked.

“I think his real name was Sylvester but that was too hard to say so he let the little kids call him Brother Syl. The grey priests told us stories about him. They said blue priest don't know how to wash their hands. But I didn't believe it. How do you keep your hands clean if you don't know how to wash them?”

“We use wet towels or Waschen,” Nikolaus said. He was annoyed by the implication that he walked around with dirty hands all the time.

“What's ‘washin’?” Lyle asked.

“It's a spell that cleans things,” Melchior said

“What's a spell?”

“It's magic. Kind of like blessings.”

“Oh. I've never seen a blessing. The gray priests said that you give blessings for the baptism of the city kids. We get baptized in a different way so we don't get blessings,” as they finished washing their hands, Melchior looked troubled. Nikolaus asked what was wrong.

“The temple orphans don’t get blessings. That doesn't seem fair. How can you grow up in a temple and never see a blessing?” Melchior grumbled. Lyle shrugged. It was simply the way of things. Melchior fished his ring out of his pocket and put it back on. “What season were you born in?”

“I don't know. I got baptized in spring though.”

“May Flutrane, the Goddess of Water, bless Lyle.” Green light flew out of his ring and rained over Lyle. He stared in open amazement. Nikolaus looked around nervously. It didn't seem that anyone was watching.

“Wow, thanks!” Lyle said.

“Someone could see!” Nikolaus cried.

“No one's going to notice such a small blessing.” Melchior said with a yawn. He hefted his basket and made to trudge back into the wilds.

“Why don't you wait near the entrance to the forest. We can pick you up on our way back,” Lyle offered. He didn't know how hard blessings were to give but Melchior sure looked tired afterward.

“I think you should. You have to walk all the way back and I won't be able to carry both you and our baskets,” Nikolaus said. Melchior didn't want to give up but he had to admit he felt like he might collapse if he had to work a second round like he had that morning. If they had to leave their baskets behind, not only would all their work be for nothing but they would have to buy new baskets to replace them too. His pride wasn't worth that.

“Ok. Show us where to wait.”

Lyle led them back through the forest to a clearing. It was in good view of the walls and had a few fallen trees that people could sit on. At the moment, only a girl who looked to be Lyle’s age was resting by a tree. There was no one else waiting today.

They sat down sort of nearby but not too close. Melchior would think of an overture after they'd rested a bit. At least that was the plan. It was quickly changed when the girl whimpered and curled up into a ball.

“Are you ok?” Nikolaus asked and approached slowly. She didn't respond immediately but as he got closer she cried out, “Get back, it's dangerous.” Both boys were undeterred. When soft yellow light began to shine around her, Melchior joined his guard knight as he knelt by her. She looked up at them in a panic “Get back. It's not safe.” Her eyes were glowing a rainbow of colors.

“You have to calm down. Your mana is spilling,” Melchior said. He parroted his mother’s words from when he'd been too angry for words after one of his toys broke. He wasn’t sure why this girl was so angry but it was dangerous not to control your mana.

“What?” she croaked. “I’m going to pop like my dad. You have to get back. Aah…” she whimpered and tears began to pour from her eyes. “It's so hot. It hurts," she said. Melchior stroked her head.

“You aren't going to pop. It's ok.” He was about to ask her where her magic tool was and if they needed to run and get it then he looked at her clothes. Unless she was also a noble sneaking into the commoner forest, she couldn't have had a magic tool. He’d never known a commoner to have magic but he’d never seen such a dirty noble before. There were orphans with mana but they were brought to the orphanage from noble houses after the Winter Purge. His blood ran cold. She really could die from too much mana and right in front of him. Could she make it back to the temple to donate to a divine instrument?

Nikolaus was also considering the options. He had his ring. If she could give a blessing, that would use mana. That took practice though. His mother had drilled him for weeks to prepare for his baptism. It was the same with faestones. He had a couple with him. Since he never knew when he needed one, he was never without. She wouldn't be able to push her mana into one without being taught.

“Can you walk? Could you make it to the temple?” he asked. Melchior met his eyes. They were thinking alike. She shook her head and groaned and told them to get away. “I can carry you,” he offered, setting down his basket. Small bubbles were forming on her cheeks. She pressed her hands to them and cried out.

“No, no, no! It's too late. You have to get away.” She vainly tried to push him back. He pulled out a faestone and placed it into her hands.

“Push your mana into this.” It wasn't a black faestone unfortunately. He lamented his lack of foresight but who would need such an expensive item on the spur of the moment. The bubbling was getting worse. He had never seen something die from mana but maybe pop was accurate. If it was, both he and Melchior would get covered in blood as well as blasted with raw mana. It was time to get away. He grabbed Melchior but Melchior clutched both her hands.

“Push your mana into the rock. Just imagine it flowing into it,” he said with a forced calm.

“Mana?” she whimpered.

“Whatever’s hot. Whatever hurts. Push it into the rock.” He tried to remember how his mother taught him during mana replenishment. It felt like so long ago now that moving mana was second nature to him. He pushed his mana into her just a bit. They both flinched and cried out but it worked. Instinctively, her mana forced his away and in doing so forced itself into the faestone. It started to turn yellow and her cheeks stopped bubbling. The bubbles had begun to rupture in a couple places so a bit of blood ran down her face. Still she looked so relieved. She kept pouring in mana until the stone flashed and even until it crumbled into dust.

Nikolaus balked. Now that the crisis seemed to be over he could worry about his lost treasure. He tried to gather the gold dust but realized he had nothing to store it in.

“I…I… thank you. I don't know what you did but thank you,” she wept then hissed as her tears stung her wounds. Melchior slipped on his ring. This time he checked around before he touched her knee and chanted.

“May Heilshmerz's healing be granted.” Her eyes grew wide and she touched her face and arms. There were spots of blood appearing on her sleeves even as she wiped at the blood on her face but the wounds were gone. Her relief and amazement were suddenly replaced by fear.

“You're nobles.” She said and kneeled. They were all on the ground already so kneeling properly actually made her head a bit higher than theirs. Melchior was about to tell her to stop before someone saw but she toppled forward on her own. Moving mana was tiring. Her brush with death had depleted her stamina. Nikolaus caught her and leaned her back against the tree.

“Do we look like nobles?” he asked. They didn't look like any nobles she’d ever seen. But she’d only ever seen knights when they happened to be called to the gates while her master was treating the guards after a trombe attack and these boys were awfully pretty like those knights usually were. On the other hand they were dressed in rags and covered in dust from foraging. They even had half full baskets. But only nobles had magic as far as she knew. It was too confusing.

“I guess not.”

“We’re from the temple.” Melchior said. This did not have a reassuring effect.

“So you are nobles,” she said and cowered.

“We're from the orphanage,” Nikolaus corrected. She calmed. She had met the temple orphans before. They were nice and smart and knew plenty of prayers. Melchior smiled but Nikolaus stood up quickly and moved to stand in front of him.

“What are you doing to my sister!” yelled a small boy. He was much smaller than Nikolaus but charged right up to him nonetheless. He grabbed the girl and pulled her up and behind him.

“We didn't do anything.” “We were helping,” they said in unison. The boy narrowed his eyes while his sister struggled to catch her breath.

“Did they hurt you? Do you need me to beat them up?” he asked. She shook her head.

“They were helping,” she declared.

“How could they have helped? Didn't you say you had a fever?” he asked and patted her back while keeping an eye on Nikolaus. The two other boys with him carried baskets and held their knives ready.

“I think I'm ok now. I'm just a bit tired,” she assured him.

“I'll take you home," he said. They began to turn and leave.

“If you visit Dorrick’s Apothecary, I'll give you some tea as a thank you,” she called as she was led away.

“Ok!” Melchior said and waved.

“What do you mean? You'll never be allowed to visit a merchant.” Nikolaus shook his head. They watched the siblings retreat then went back to resting in the clearing. Nikolaus kept looking at the scattering of gold dust while Melchior looked at all the plants and flowers. He found one he liked with weedy little red flowers and serrated leaves and dug it up along with a clod of earth. “What are you going to do with that?” Nikolaus asked as he set it inside his basket amidst the sticks.

“I'm going to find a spot for it and keep it in my room,” Melchior said. He could already see it living happily on his shelf on its little mound of earth.

“That's just making more work for Lothar.”

“It can't be that much work. I'm sure Kirk won't mind looking after it when I'm not there. When I am there I can look after it myself.” He kept looking at it in his basket. Should he name it, he wondered. What would he name it? Maybe once it showed more personality he would think of a name.

They didn't end up needing to wait very long. The orphans were quick at their work and came to retrieve them a bit before fifth bell. They walked with some younger kids from the lower city. Once through the gates they waved goodbye and seemed loath to part. Melchior gazed after them. Did any of them have mana they couldn't get rid of? Had they not been there, that little girl would have died horribly and all alone. Mana was what made nobles nobles. Before today he thought only their children could have mana.

He’d managed to stay calm. Nikolaus had been there to help too. But now that it was over, he couldn't get the picture of the little girl's face, boiling like the soup in the orphanage, out of his mind. He shivered, suddenly cold. His own emotions felt turbulent, like they might spill over into tears. It would be terribly embarrassing to start crying for no reason. Some instinct told him to keep the event secret. He felt sure Nikolaus wouldn't tell anyone as long as he asked him not to. He spent the walk back calming himself down. He fell back on his normal method. It was hard to move the pieces of faestone when the cause of his disturbance danced before his eyes but he soldiered on. By the time they’d returned to the temple he had nearly collected himself. His inward focus meant he missed the gray priests’ looks of panic and relief. One split off immediately at a dead sprint.

Nikolaus didn't miss this. He was distracted by the events of the day as well but he was also an apprentice knight. He’d seen carnage much worse before and also took his responsibility seriously. Thus he noticed trouble when he saw it. He grabbed Melchior, pulled his basket off then his own, handed them to the other kids, and began to steer his distracted charge towards the workshop.

Footnotes

12. To share Ewigeliebe's passion for something is to be obsessed. Though he generally only has passion for Geduldh, I think people might use him to refer more generally to obsessive feelings. ^

13. Men and knights more specifically only need to care about practicality.^

14. Kunstzeal is the Goddess of Art. Caring about her approval means caring about aesthetics.^

Chapter 7: The Begining of Penance and the Long Awaited Highbeast

Chapter Text

The Price of Freedom

“Lord Melchior,” called a kind female voice. Melchior snapped out of his stupor and turned at the sound of his name. Sister Philine approached the boys with a smile. “Lord Melchior, I see you went with the other children to the forest. You forgot to take your lunch with you. I hope you haven't met with any discomfort,” she said. Nikolaus shook his head vigorously. Melchior was about to recount his adventure but the quality of her smile gave him pause. He might have convinced himself that the commoner forest was safe and that all he needed for a day's excursion was the right clothes but he knew deep down that was all a pretense. Hadn't Lady Rozemyne expressly forbidden the blue apprentices from going to the forest years ago. It couldn't possibly be different for him.

“Please don't tell mother,” he began pleading immediately. Everything could be saved if Lady Florencia never found out. “Or Sir Dedryck,” he added after a look at Nikolaus.

“I believe Lady Florencia would want to know about your day. How could I keep such exciting news to myself?” She placed a hand on her cheek.

“Please, Lady Philine. I’ll accept any punishment. You can even have me calculate your reports,” he felt ready to fall to his knees. He could already see his mother's placid smile cutting into his soul.

“But Lord Melchior, I am but a humble laypriest. I could never punish the son of the Archduke or the Knights Commander. I certainly can't take away your dessert or force you to do hard labor. And I absolutely cannot send you to the repentance chamber for several consecutive days to reflect on your negligence.” She looked toward the orphans and the guard priest who stood behind her catching his breath and looking increasingly sick.

Now he did fall to his knees. “Lady Philine! I told them to let me. They were just following my orders. No one can defy my orders, right. It isn't their fault!” This incredible display, the High Bishop in rags kneeling before the orphanage director began to draw people's attention. Nikolaus hauled him up immediately.

“Is this how an Archduke Candidate behaves? Perhaps I should ask Lady Rozemyne for a lecture shumil,” she said seemingly to no one. Would she really tell Rozemyne he had violated her rules? She would be so disappointed in him. She’d given him the task of replacing her as High Bishop; he couldn't bear to have her think he'd failed her.

“I will receive your lectures. I will punish myself. Please don't tell Sister. Please don't send anyone to the repentance chamber.” Melchior tried to marshal himself. Philine waited patiently. “I won't have any dessert for a month. And I'll ll do all the math. And I'll do all the running Dame Streita assigned everyday for two weeks.” His mind raced. He tried to think of more unpleasant things to heap on his head as she remained seemingly unmoved. “And I'll give up all my reading time and drawing time. I'll practice harspiel instead. I’ll… I'll…”

“It sounds like you will see much improvement in the coming weeks. Ehrenfest will surely benefit from your diligence. A pity that I won't get to see your progress once I’ve moved to Alexandria.”

So she wanted a bribe. He had plenty of valuable things to offer but how could he justify giving her an expensive gift. “I will owe you a debt. You may call upon me whenever you are in need,” he promised and held his hand over his heart.

“Oh I’m sure I already can.”

“I'll draw you a portrait.”

“I'll have to wait a whole month to receive it.”

He drew another blank. Did he really have so little to offer? Maybe he could have a gift delivered in secret. Nikolaus stepped forward and held his hand to his chest. “We will prepare stories for you. New stories you can offer to Lady Rozemyne as your own if you wish.”

“I could never take credit for another's work. I will accept your stories. I look forward to your compositions.” She turned away and began walking towards the Director's chambers. After a few steps she paused. “Do not allow me to catch you again.”

The guard priest visibly relaxed. He knew he would still receive some punishment but it would be far less severe. Sister Philine was as strict as she was kind. She wouldn't tarnish Lord Melchior's sacrifice even if she had to hand down some form of reprimand. He also wondered just how much the High Bishop disliked the harspiel.

Nikolaus and Melchior grabbed Lyle, hurried back to their clothes, and immediately encountered another problem. The apprentice gray had never served a blue priest. He knew etiquette but he didn't know how to dress a noble. Nikolaus made a valiant attempt to put Melchior back in his robes but they ended up so rumpled and skewed anyone would think he’d been in a fight. Lothar might not demand answers but Fonsel would if he wasn't going to already.

“Go get… Kirk. Just tell him Lord Melchior asked for him but don't tell him why. Bring him here as stealthily as you can,” he instructed Lyle. He almost asked for one of his own attendants but even though they were on good terms, it was still their job to report on his activities. Dedryck would know in less than a bell about his ignoble appearance and could infer the rest from there.

While they waited, they switched back to their regular underwear. There was a distinctive band of dust on Melchior's socks they had no idea what to do about. For his part, Melchior spent this anxious waiting putting himself back together all over again. He was dreading all the harspiel in his future but it was worth it if he could bare all the blame. It had been a harrowing day but also a delightful one. The greenhouse was full of neatly arranged plants but the forest had so many kinds he’d never seen. They seemed haphazardly placed and uncared-for but there was a determined spunk about the little weedy flowers and crooked trees. He had never seen so many trees so closely. He couldn't remember taking the time to look up through the vault of branches during the Hunting Tournament. He’d looked on in envy as the orphans climbed into trees. It didn't look difficult but he hadn't been able to do it. Even the exhaustion he now felt was different from any he’d known so far. His hands and feet hurt and his legs weren't just heavy. They felt less solid than normal; like ice cream slowly melting. The metal knife had left a distinctive pattern of pain on his hand so unlike his training swords. How thrilling it all was.

He shivered. It was kind of cold in the storage area in just his underwear. Thankfully Kirk and Lyle appeared with a bucket of water and washcloths. Kirk shook his head as he had them wipe down their faces and arms. He patted the dust hoops on his socks causing little clouds to form and the bands to fade considerably.

“What happened? It's like you went gathering.” Neither of them answered. He tried to shake out the dust of the storage room from their clothes but the white high bishop's robes were impossible to get totally clean. “Can you use waschen?” he asked Nikolaus.

“Oh the cleaning blessing!” Lyle chirped.

Nikolaus shook his head. “I don't have schtappe yet.”

“This will have to do then. Lothar won't be happy so I hope you have an excuse ready.” He put their clothes on and neatened their hair. They walked together through the shortcut to the girls building. Almost on cue, Fonsel entered the cafeteria. Nikolaus and Melchior put on their noble smiles and tried to look as though they weren't holding a terrible secret. Melchior engaged a gray priests in meaningless conversation about the move.

Fonsel walked over and greeted Nikolaus with a sharp nod. “Look at you. A whole day guarding by yourself. Why are you so dirty?”

Nikolaus tried not to look too sheepish as he answered. “We were in the workshop and got a bit overzealous.” It was kind of true in a sense.

“A little overzealous?” He glanced at Melchior whose white robes made the dirt even more apparent. “Did you seek out every mote of dust you could find? Come along, I'll clean you up.” He placed Nikolaus in a clear spot and summoned his schtappe. Nikolaus took a deep breath and held his nose as he was consumed by a ball of water. He floated ever so slightly off the ground before being dropped awkwardly ten seconds later now clean and dry. Lyle clapped and oohed.

“Lord Melchior, you too,” he called. Melchior released his victim and trotted over. His robes were soon perfectly white again.

“Thank you, Fonsel,” he said. “Shall we make our way back to my chambers for dinner?”

They followed Kirk back as he held the empty lunch box. He wasn't sure why Melchior hadn't eaten it and didn't like to waste food but he knew Sheila would have a mountain of questions about it. Nikolaus didn't look like he wanted to answer questions while Melchior would fold under the pressure and divulge whatever they were hiding.

After dinner, Melchior dutifully balanced his chambers accounts and practiced his harspiel instead of decorating his new practice sword. His excuse was that he wanted to get better at math and that he’d skipped too much harspiel practice lately. He fell asleep at his desk and had to be carried to bed.

The next day he postponed his breakfast to run around the training courtyard. A running path had been marked out around the perimeter using rope and wooden posts. Dedryck watched but didn't ask why he was suddenly so diligently training. Back in his chambers, Lothar gave him a quick rinse with warm water before dressing him a second time. He would have to ask Lord Zargerecht to send over more training clothes if his lord was going to use two sets per day.

They had very little time between clearing away breakfast and the fealty ceremony. Dame Streita entered in her normal dress with an attendant following with her blue robes. She knelt next to Melchior and repeated the prayer with him. She stood behind a screen to slide her robes over her clothes then returned to offer prayers to the gods. Nobles rarely used the prayer pose but she was as nimble as anyone and stood as firmly as a tree even on one foot.

The Staff of Flutrane was brought over for her to offer mana. Melchior explained that it was good to learn first since it was necessary for trombe hunts. “We normally bring the divine instrument with us but you never know what could happen.” She laughed as she gave her farewell and looked incredulously at the growing stack of wooden boards Lothar gave to her attendant.

With the time left before lunch, they helped in the high priest's office. Melchior filled his work pile with math. He also forced himself to stay in his seat as an extra penance. Maybe he was faster because he worked straight through or slower because he couldn't stop himself from staring into space for several minutes at a time.

Only after lunch and his meeting with Otto did he consider that he didn't need to attend that meeting. He hadn't even said anything while Lothar explained. Otto noted that their time frame was generous and that their design could be realized. They paid half upfront since it was a custom order with special materials and agreed that his temple robes could be delivered directly to the temple. All he did was offer the blessing and sit up straight.

He’d missed half the training and fell even further behind Gerianne. He vented his frustration on his harspiel before working on his administrative work once again. He did a bit of extra compression to get something worthwhile out of the day. It even made him a little sick.

The Long Awaited Highbeast

Melchior was still a bit sore by the time he returned to the castle but all his troubles were erased when Zargerecht informed him he had highbeast training on his second castle day. How could he forget something so momentous? He’d even forgotten his highbeast faestone at the temple. Thankfully, Lothar had handed it to Dedryck before they left so no one had to go retrieve it. He floated through whirling practice and his geography lesson. He truly felt his tabulations in Lady Florencia’s office were some of his best work. Not even extra harspiel could put a damper on his mood. He played that joyful little ditty like spring was blooming in his heart. At the end of his lesson it dawned on him that he hadn't done any running yet. All his guard knights followed him into the gardens and ran with him in the waning sunlight. He felt it was beautiful and freeing to run under the sunset sky for approximately one lap then remembered that running was awful and his punishment. He took on a more sober attitude as he completed his penance. Melchior was the only one staggering and out of breath at the end, another reminder that he was terribly weak.

He did enough compression to feel just a bit sick as a bonus bit of contrition before falling into sleep.

This time he remembered to wake up early but he hadn't told anyone his plans so his guards had yet to arrive. Zargerecht continued preparing his room while he did his exercises in the open doorway to his hidden room. They postponed breakfast yet again to go running. Sigsnyr grumbled the entire time. Melchior was impressed he could keep it up over so many laps. He insisted that everyone eat while he had an impromptu morning bath then consumed his own food as quickly as possible. Isolde came in after breakfast looking greatly annoyed about having to wait for so long.

She came prepared with her study materials and sat off to the side during his lessons. He was fairly certain he’d learned nothing over the course of his studies that morning. His lunch was similarly a blur.

When it was finally time to meet Charlotte he was ready to burst. He was so near to overflowing that Zargerecht instructed him to use his magic tool. “You are going to do yourself harm. You must control your emotions,” his wisdom fell on deaf ears.

Magic tool in hand and a radiant smile on his face he led his retainer's to the launching balcony. Charlotte was waiting with her knights and greeted him warmly.

“Good afternoon noon, dear brother. Are you ready to depart for the Knights Order?” Of course he was ready.

“Yes, absolutely!”

Everyone else summoned their highbeasts. “Can I ride with you, Charlotte?” he asked. He wanted to see how drivable highbeasts worked. He’d only ridden in the Pandabus a couple of times and never close enough to the front to see how to fly it. Everyone tensed. Charlotte's head knight stepped forward. It was the perfect time to argue with two Archduke Candidates.

“Lady Charlotte, I don't think it would be appropriate to have a man ride in your highbeast,” she said. Melchior felt confused. He didn't feel like a man. Surely he was too young for anyone to mistake him as Charlotte’s paramore. Besides, he was her brother.

“Melchior is still a young boy and he is my baby brother. Surely anyone could see I am only seeing him safely to our destination,” she responded. He didn't feel like a baby anything either but she was on his side so he wouldn't argue this time.

“I have to agree with Dame Ernesta. It will be difficult to maintain a proper formation if both of you are on the same highbeast," Dedryck said.

“We are traveling through Ehrenfest skies, Sir Dedryck. What threats do you imagine we might encounter that the combined force of our guards cannot forstall. I believe in the depths of my heart that the skill of Ehrenfest’s archductal guard knights is answerable to the task of seeing us safely to the Knights Order from Ehrenfest Castle.” Her hair glittered in the sun as she spoke. Her eyes glowed with determined conviction. One could think she was leading her troops into combat rather than convincing her knights to let her dote on her younger brother. Dedryck didn't seem moved so Melchior stepped forward and gazed up with pleading eyes.

“Charlotte’s going to change her highbeast today. This is my last chance to ride with her for the rest of my life,” he said it like he believed it even though he wasn't totally sure. It might have been more persuasive to point out that he would have his own highbeast and therefore wouldn't need to share with anyone but the words were already out of his mouth.

Charlotte stepped closer too and flashed him a winning smile. “Oh won't you let him? Just this once.” She touched Dedryck's sleeve. His frown deepened even as his ears turned bright red. She was barely a breath shorter than him and held his eyes unflinchingly. Even though she was a respectable distance away, he felt like he was completely trapped in her indigo gaze.

“Just this once,” he grumbled. She thanked him and let go of his sleeve. For a moment he was sure that part of his tunic was warmer than the rest of his clothes. He quickly worked out the flying formation with Ernesta while Charlotte enlarged her highbeast into a two seater. Melchior hopped in. It was so much easier than trying to mount some giant animal. Charlotte gracefully lowered herself into the driver seat.

“Be sure to hold on firmly,” she warned, then launched into the sky.

The seats of her shumil weren't as comfortable as the Pandabus and she used reins instead of the wheel Rozemyne used. “Why do you use reins?” he asked.

“Because that is how horses are controlled when riding,” she responded.

“You can ride a horse!?” She shook her head. His dreams of learning to ride horses too died as quickly as they came.

“So, if you’ve never ridden a horse, how do you know how reins work?”

Her highbeast shuddered for a moment and the smooth trip gained turbulence in the windless sky. It took her a moment to regain control but her flying seemed a little more awkward than before. One of her knights floated in on one side while Fonsel flew in on the other. She said something about showing him some new technique to show off and laughed. They floated away but dropped a bit lower just in case the siblings fell out of the sky.

“Dear brother, it is unwise to question the feasibility of magic your life currently depends upon. I can say that generations of nobles have controlled their highbeasts with reins. You may depend upon the method. When you have your own highbeast you will understand that there is some instinct for it inside you already.”

They descended shakily onto a parade ground and walked into the Knights Order. Charlotte greeted the knights they passed while telling Melchior their names and a little about their capabilities. He was surprised she knew so much about so many people. When they walked by a training hall full of apprentices both standing around and training, the knights-in-training waved and smiled at them. Their destination was a large empty room. It was made completely of Entwickeln Ivory and devoid of windows.

“Here you may release your mana without worry,” Charlotte began. Their knights lined up near the walls and the entrance. Only Sigsnyr and one of Charlotte knights followed the siblings toward the middle of the room. “Take out your highbeast faestone.” She removed her’s from a leather holder on her belt. Melchior took his from the pouch Zargerecht tied to him before he left and sat it on the ground like Charlotte instructed. “You know how to pass mana into faestones by touching them. Imagine the same feeling of connection but don't touch the faestone.”

He stood before it and tried to push his mana through empty air and in its general direction. His mana refused to leave his body. He got closer and closer then knelt down and reached out until he was almost touching it. Still nothing. He wondered if the problem was that it was dyed completely and couldn't accept more so he picked it up and tried to pour mana into it. That wasn't the problem. He looked it all over then sat it back down and tried again

“Try holding it with your sleeve so you're touching it but not touching it,” Sigsnyr offered. He grabbed some dangling fabric and placed the stone in his covered hand. Some part of him must not have believed it was possible because just that thin barrier made the task impossible. He held back a scream.

Meanwhile, Charlotte had grown her faestone into a person sized blob with shumil ears. It wobbled precariously. He left his faestone to think about it's transgressions and walked over to Charlotte. “How are you coming along with your battle-beast?” he asked.

“My battle-beast?” She repeated without taking her eyes off the blob.

“Your highbeast for battle. Your battle-beast.” He wondered if it wasn't as clever out loud as it had been in his head.

“My beast for battle. Yes you're right. It isn't my highbeast. It's a new beast for a specific purpose.” The ears popped back into the blob and the blob took shape. Before too long a winged lion stood before them. She banished it then summoned her shumil then banished that and resummoned her lion. She clasped her hands before her and let out a sigh. “I've done it,” she said. She walked over and tried to mount it. Her toe clipped the wing and sent her hopping away. She managed not to fall but her attending knight still ran over to steady her. They walked back to the lion and began a lesson in proper mounting technique, Melchior's lesson forgotten for the moment.

He returned to his highbeast. It sat in just the same place as though challenging him to make it leap into the sky. He tried to convince himself it was actually in his hand. He felt the cold surface and hefted its weight in his imagination. It was easy. He filled faestones all the time. But lying to himself was insufficient. It was over there on the ground not in his hands. He looked to Sigsnyr. “How do you do it?”

Sigsnyr touched the stone in his gauntlet. He paused and thought about the first time he learned to use it. “All I remember is my father telling me it worked. I believed him and it worked. Do you believe it works?”

Melchior couldn't decide if he was joking or not. Every adult he knew had a highbeast. Of course he believed that they worked. Hadn't that hope driven his passion for days now. “Why don't you just touch it for now. You can practice not touching it later. Try to make it grow in size.” He touched it and imagined it getting bigger. Nothing happened. “You have to supply it with mana to change its shape,” Sigsnyr called out. Melchior wanted to scream but focused on supplying the stone instead. He put just one finger on top. It started to grow as he passed it a tiny thread of mana. How much mana had he given it by now, he wondered as it went from the size of his head to up to his waist. He stopped. “Keep going. It needs to be as big as a lion one day,” Sigsnyr encouraged. It grew and grew and threatened to topple over so he made it hover over the ground. Every highbeast could fly; wings or no wings. The soon to be an animal orb obeyed its nature. He heard some whispering. No doubt the guard knights were amazed he had to touch his highbeast to use it.

Once it was as tall as him he stopped again and looked to Sigsnyr. “Good job,” the knight said. He looked a bit worried but gamefully continued. “Let's see if you can shape it into a box!”

Melchior imagined the crates used to transport provisions to the knights. They’d just walked past some in the other room that the apprentices were lounging on. He held his finger to one point as the box took shape. It balanced easily on one corner. He wanted to spin it around but was afraid to take his finger off.

At this moment, Charlotte came back from her test flight. She approached slowly. “Melchior? Why is your box floating?”

“It was going to fall over, so I made it float,” he ground out the words. He wasn't going to double embarrass himself by letting his ball roll around or his box tip over.

“I see... Let's move on to a more complicated shape. Try to make it a spiky ball next.” A spiky ball? Like a ball with spikes? That sounded both dangerous and not fun.

“Like a crumpled sheet of paper,” Sigsnyr added. That was easy. Faster than any transformation yet the highbeast distorted into a misshapen ball. With weird voids and flaps it was just like a giant sheet of paper balled up in frustration. Like he had with so many pages before he tossed it with a flick of his hand. It soared into an empty portion of the room and bounced into an imaginary wastebasket before coming to a stop. “Oh look. You did it. You were controlling it without touching it.” Just as the words left Sigsnyr"s mouth the giant blue paper ball shrank rapidly and clattered to the floor. Everyone but Melchior flinched and reached out as if to catch it. He shuffled over and picked up the faestone. A huge crack ran through it.

Serves you right, he thought. How long had he spent imagining this day just for him to fail at the first hurdle. Charlotte met him half way and took the stone to examine it. “Oh no,” she whispered. He took it back. “It's fine,” he said. He clutched it in his hand and squeezed. Just as he imagined, it molded to his hand like freshly kneaded ink. He wasted a bit more mana to squish it a few more times. It made him feel a bit better.

“Truly you've surprised me. I never knew such a thing could be done to a broken faestone.” She looked on with worry. The crack was gone but now it had a bizarre, amorphous shape.

“Rozemyne can shatter and reform her highbeast faestone. She showed us in the orphanage once,” he explained.

Charlotte’s eyes widened as she gazed reverently into the middle distance. “Sister is incredible. To think she can manipulate even faestones with such precision. She continues to inspire.”

If Charlotte was awestruck, Sigsnyr was beside himself with curiosity. “How?” was all he could say as he turned the glassy blob over in his hands.

“How are you feeling dear brother, shall we continue?” He took two deep breaths and nodded. “Very good. Now restart your mana flow and step back. We will do a few more transformations.” He was frustrated all over again. He took the stone from Sigsnyr, sat it on the ground, and tried once again to push his mana at it from a distance.

Charlotte looked at him expectantly. He wanted to dig through the ivory floor and turn himself to white sand to repair it. He walked forward and touched it. It expanded immediately and returned to the ball shape. He made it soft like a plush toy so it would settle under its own weight and not roll away. “Now restrict your mana flow to lock its shape.” He stopped pouring in mana. It seemed to still consume mana though much less than when he was transforming it. Sigsnyr grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him away from it. There was no tell-tale clunk so he assumed it hadn't changed. “Now imagine it turning into a teapot.” He did as instructed.

For a moment he considered how funny a flying teapot would be. “Look, you did it.” Sigsnyr whispered. He spun him back around and behold, a giant teapot bobbed in the air as though floating in an imaginary pond. He cut off the mana flow he had no recollection of starting. The pot floated lightly to the ground.

“Excellent!” Charlotte said. “This is the last one for today. See if you can make a koralie.” This time he watched it. He tried to feel the moment his mana began to flow. Nothing happened. He felt for the thread drawing his mana to maintain the shape but he came up empty handed. They all stood in anticipation for several seconds but the teapot did not become a flower. “Its ok, Melchior. You did wonderfully for your first day.” She clapped.

“But I haven't made a highbeast yet,” he said and touched the teapot. It morphed into a flower.

“It takes more than one day to form your first highbeast. I think you'll only need a little more practice before your first flight. Go ahead and return it to a faestone.” The flower all but popped out of existence. Sigsnyr caught the stone before it could hit the floor again. “Now, don't go practicing without supervision. It isn't safe,” Charlotte instructed.

Melchior was filled with both surprise and indignation. What had he been so excited for? How come no one had mentioned that he wasn't going to fly away into the sunset this very evening? Was it because he couldn't manage to control the highbeast without touching it? He couldn't be more disappointed in either himself or the afternoon. At least he got to spend time with Charlotte. If he needed more training, didn't that mean he could spend more time with his sister. “Are we coming back tomorrow then?” he asked. He could just try again, he thought.

“I don't think I have much free time in the coming weeks. Thankfully, Sir Sigsnyr seems to be a very good teacher. You are in good hands.” It turned out it hadn't been true that he couldn't be more disappointed. They walked out together and Melchior stood next to Nikolaus before Dedryck could instruct him to ride with Sigsnyr.

He felt lethargic when he returned to his chambers. Running then moving tons of mana had strained his stamina. Riding the ups and downs of his emotions also made him tired. Even in his own rooms he couldn't completely relax. He wanted to cry but he didn't want to set off the chain reaction of events that entailed. So he sat at his table and felt sorry for himself. He had a while before dinner to spend with his sorrow.

Zargerecht sat down across from him. “Lord Melchior, you seem upset. Do you want to talk about it?” It had been a long time since Zargerecht had last needed to console his young master in this way. Melchior was such a happy child that it was rare in the first place. It was a bit unexpected that his joy from that morning had turned into sadness.

“I didn't get a highbeast today,” he said.

“It was only your first day of training. It's expected that it will take a few sessions.”

“Of course. Everyone knows that.” Melchior snapped. Zargerecht was surprised. Was this the beginning of a rebellious phase?

“It is common knowledge but it seems that no one warned you not to expect to fly on your first day. That was our mistake as your retainers.” Melchior didn't seem to get any less agitated. A good explanation was generally all that was needed to comfort the boy. Zargerecht wasn't sure what to say. “Perhaps you’d like to spend a little time in your hidden room. We can call you when it's time for dinner,” he attempted.

Melchior nodded then shuffled mournfully behind his bed curtains. When he came out to get dressed for dinner he looked cheerful even if it was obviously forced.

He didn't force everyone to run before breakfast the next morning. He had all day to fill. Since he couldn't draw or read for fun he had far too many free hours. He told his retainers he would practice harspiel in the morning to everyone but Nikolaus’s astonishment. After a bell or so of that he would sit down to write a story. Then he would exercise before lunch, practice Gewinnen after lunch, do some more writing if he had more ideas, and do some math practice if he didn't. Zargerecht naturally asked what had brought about this change. Melchior just insisted he wanted to improve himself.

Everything went to plan until it came to writing a story. All his experiences so far were of a pampered and protected life. Even during the Winter Purge and attack on the foundation, he’d been locked safely in his room. He tried to write a knight story like all the ones he’d read but it didn't feel right. Nikolaus read it and said it bore almost no resemblance to real hunting. Nikolaus's story was similarly about being a knight. It was about an apprentice getting his first sword and subsequently putting himself in far too dangerous a situation. The writing was poor but the story was exciting and unique. Most knight stories were about experienced fighters overcoming incredible challenges. Melchior couldn't help but feel a kinship with the overambitious lad.

Before the evening meal, they did a little round robin of Gewinnen. Isolde still couldn't win but that didn't stop her from giving her best. The children watched Dedryck and Haldis play with four stones. Melchior could follow the game this time but still couldn't figure out what the next moves should be. It appeared to be close at the end the Dedryck won just as everyone predicted.

Lord Bonifiatus was invited to dinner again that night. He asked about the highbeast creation. Melchior allowed Charlotte to speak for them both. Hearing her compliments after the fact somehow didn't make him feel any better about it.

“I hear you’ve been running through the gardens recently. That reminds me of my youth!” Bonifiatus bellowed.

“Yes, Granduncle. I want to get stronger.” No set of words could be more beautiful to Lord Bonifiatus.

“That's excellent, my boy. It is good to pursue strength. Are you only running? Are your guard knights teaching you exercises?”

Melchior gave far too much detail about his training regimen as created by Dame Streita but Bonifiatus kept asking questions.

“Dame Streita is a quality knight. Listen well to her teaching. She’ll give you a good foundation. Then I'll mold you into an unstoppable force!” Bonifiatus asked him questions about his progress and his eating habits and why he wanted to get stronger and how he knew he was weak and why that realization led him to seek power rather than give up and turn to scholarship. He buried him in query after query about his reasons and motivations and plans. Melchior didn't have good answers to most of these questions. More accurately, he had the same answer to most of these questions. Uncle Ferdinand was strong enough to support his father the Aub. He would be strong enough to support his sister when she became Aub. For everything else he was relying on the expertise of his teachers.

“Ferdinand had an unfortunate childhood. It did make him very competent but you needn't strive for the same.” Bonifiatus looked cheerful but felt conflicted. How many children had he seen be ruined by undue stricture?

“Melchior. My brother is a great role model but don't actually become him. He’s terribly dull.” Sylvester called.

Wilfred nodded his agreement then added, “Father only has one brother but Charlotte has two. You only have to be half of Uncle.”

“Just do your best, dear.” Florencia said. Charlotte said nothing. She looked thoughtfully at her plate. Melchior began to consider the varied advice but was interrupted by Bonifiatus.

“You’ll need weights for training and more meat in your diet. Keep on working and you'll be almost as strong as me one day,” he laughed and continued talking to Wilfred about training the knights.

The Best of Friends

With the repercussions of his penance quickly consuming the joy in his life, Melchior began his last day in the castle. Today, everyone was prepared for the pre-breakfast run. He was given a thorough rinse rather than a full bath while his first set of knights ate. Isolde was welcomed in to eat with him and his remaining knight. He had studying and lunch then a strategy meeting with Isolde.

She warned him not to let his siblings know he was still upset about the highbeast training. “Wilfred will tease you at the least,” she predicted. She also provided some topics for him to broach. He should ask about Wilfred's studies and progress with his training as the Knights Commander. She thought Charlotte might ask about Dedryck's luck at the Starbinding. One of her scholars had traded Sister Philine for information about him after all. Dedryck was guarding outside. She tried to send Fonsel to swap with him but he refused. “Fine. It's only his future we’re planning.”

“This planning you're playing at isn't going to have any impact so why bother him about it,” was his response.

“I see married life has made you forget the heated battles of youth,” she replied then turned back to Melchior and continued giving her advice. Melchior couldn't say what Dedryck had gotten up to after he left the Starbinding Ceremony. He seemed to talk to a few women but Melchior couldn't remember who they were.

“We aren't as prepared as I would have liked but it will have to do. We only just started taking things seriously.” She clutched her stylus triumphantly and led Sigsnyr and Melchior in a lackluster cheer.

It was difficult to have fun when he was thinking about all the advice. He gave his overly formal greetings and sipped his tea. They spoke about the weather as usual. Eventually highbeasts were brought up yet again. Truly he was tired of discussing them. He feigned excitement about the next steps in the process and how fortunate he was to have Sigsnyr and Dedryck to teach him.

As quickly as possible he asked Wilfred about his studying. His brother took the opportunity to complain about the new curriculum Rozemyne had devised with the Zent. Archduke Candidates now had to prove a basic understanding of ancient languages. They had to be able to at least transcribe a tablet from the underground archive for a scholar to translate. One also needed to prepare a report on the history of one’s own duchy to present before the class. Not only would this nearly double the 6th year work load, it meant that Archduke Candidates in their last year had a minimum number of weeks to attend. “For someone dedicated to spending as little time in class as possible it's a cruel trick to play.” He whined for a good while until Charlotte asked him about his romantic prospects.

Wilfred very quickly diverted the conversation away from the Royal Academy to the Starbinding and asked Charlotte how her faction's matchmaking went. She was slim on the details and thanked him for his assistance. Melchior gathered that meant things hadn't gone all too well. In a surprising turn of events, she did ask about Dedryck's love life. He still didn't have any information for her but he noticed her glancing at his guard knights after asking each question. Melchior regretted not being more forceful about talking to Dedryck beforehand. He tried to deflect their attention by asking about Wilfred’s knight Alexis, who was also single, but for reasons he didn't understand, Alexis’s engagement wasn’t as compelling a topic.

They ended their tea with vague talk about how much work was finding its way to Charlotte's desk. Melchior offered to help just like he offered his parents assistance. She promised to rely upon him in the future. Wilfred just countered that he was also very busy at the Knights Order.

He had only just begun trying to accomplish something at their weekly tea and it was already feeling incredibly stressful. Isolde, for her part, was beyond delighted. Her predictions were next to perfect even if they hadn't had any plans to manage the conversation. She took particular joy in needling Fonsel.

It was a relief to return to the temple and it's uncomplicated patterns. Gerianne joined them for their morning runs and exercises. She seemed happy to have company even if they all ran at different speeds and in different amounts. Melchior wasn't sure if it was soon enough to see progress but he felt a little less tired now.

Sister Streita was thriving. Without the thankless politicking for her grandson, her expenses had been cut in half. Since he had to send her living stipend as offerings to the temple, she finally had near complete control over her own finances. Melchior had given one of his trained chefs to her kitchen. She was apparently expected to allow commoner chefs to train there but it meant access to the newest recipes and passionate talent so it was a fair compromise. Besides memorizing all the tedious prayers, life in the temple was whatever she wanted it to be. Her former attendant had already visited for their first casual tea as friends in over 15 years. The temple was blissful freedom.

She swept into the training yard in her blue robes with her gray shrine maidens in tow. She’d selected only adult retainers. Her two gray shrine maidens felt relieved to have a refined master of little eccentricity. Both Lord Ferdinand and Lady Rozemyne offered great rewards to their retainers but asked for service far in excess of what a normal retainer could provide. Sister Streita's only needed special consideration for her workout schedule.

Today that schedule included training the High Bishop and two other apprentice blue clergy. The one blue shrine maiden was trained everyday. It had taken getting used to seeing blue priests doing something other than lazing about in their chambers and coordinating flower offerings. If asked they would have to admit it was fun to watch the knights swinging their swords around. The day's activities held more excitement than usual.

After their warm ups Sister Streita sent Nikolaus and Dedryck off to their corner while she stood with Melchior and Gerianne and their new highbeast faestones. “You managed to finish dyeing it. That's good Gerianne.”

“Father delivered my storage faestones and some rejuvenation potions so it was easy to do,” she declared. Her nearly white faestone was slightly smaller than Melchior's. She cradled it lovingly.

“I heard you had a lesson already. Show us what you learned, Lord Melchior.” Already feeling defeated, he placed his highbeast stone on the ground and stared at it. He tried to feel his mana reach forward and activate it but nothing happened.

“I can't do it. I don't know what I’m doing wrong.”

Gerianne placed her stone on the ground nearby and stared at it. “What are you trying to do.”

“Push your mana into the faestone without touching it,” he repeated the instructions. She looked focused for a long while then frowned. “That isn't how faestones work,” she said.

“A highbeast isn't a true faestone. It's a magic tool with a connection to its owner. You can use the highbeast of another but it will never be the same as using your own. Use the connection you built with it to transfer your mana,” Streita explained.

Melchior walked over, touched the rock, and began channeling his mana. He turned it into the large plush ball then stepped back. The moment he let go the connection was severed. “I did it once by accident. I don't know what I did but I have to touch it to change it's shape,” he explained.

Gerianne copied his movements. Sister Streita watched and stroked her chin. When Gerianne’s stone was up to her waist she called out, “Cut off your mana to lock its shape.” It stopped growing and Gerianne stepped back. “Can you feel a connection to it?”

Gerianne nodded. “It's still pulling the smallest amount of mana.”

“Now use that connection to make it grow as tall as you. It will need to be large enough to ride one day.” Gerianne did as instructed.

Melchior was too devastated to speak. How was it so easy for everyone else? Sister Streita noticed his gloom and returned to his side. “Can you feel the connection?”

“No. It's gone,” he cried. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

“It isn't gone. In fact it's always there. You formed the connection when you dyed it,” she explained.

“Then why can't I feel it?”

“Archduke Candidates tend to have a lot of mana. Perhaps your pool is so large that it's difficult to detect a small trickle. If you aren't used to using your mana with extremely precise control, small uses can feel like nothing is being used at all.” It was valuable new knowledge and felt completely useless in the moment.

“So I won't be able to feel the connection? Then I can't make a highbeast.”

“You can try but I don't think you need to. A highbeast it like a friend. Sometimes your most dependable one,” she scoffed. “Mine’s been with me since I was your age. In all those years it's carried me anywhere I needed to go. We have a deep connection. You just met your highbeast. You haven't even given it it's true shape yet but you can still be friends. Do you want to be friends?” Melchior felt frustrated. He and his highbeast were at such odds now that he wasn't sure they could be friends. Not to mention it was an inanimate object. He’d only recently been advised to stop imposing feelings on Gewinnen pieces. In the end he nodded. If it meant he could make a highbeast, he would try anything at this point. “That's good. Just like all friendships, our connections remain even when we aren't together. Your highbeast can receive mana from you from far away just like you can remember the fun you had with your friends and receive their joy from far away.”

He thought about his friends from the playroom and orphanage. All his memories of when he’d won at karuta or tumbled in the snow made him feel happy. It was true that even if they weren't here they still brought him joy. He couldn't so much feel a connection like he could when pouring mana into faestones or the foundation but that didn't mean it wasn't there. He looked at his highbeast still a giant plush orb and smiled. It wasn't it's fault he had struggled. They could still be friends and he could send it joy from far away. He also remembered what Sigsnyr said. He just had to believe that it worked.

Sister Streita noticed his mood lifting so she gave him a push, “Go ahead and ask it to be a box.”

Please be a box, he thought. The sides of the sphere flattened out and bent around corners. He imagined the box flat on the ground this time since that would be easier for it.

“Look at that,” Streita clapped lightly. She looked back at Gerianne who had managed to make her faestone both large and into a box. She looked haggard from the effort. “I think that's enough, Sister Gerianne. We can continue another day.” The girl looked at Melchior who seemed thus far unaffected by his labors and pouted. They both returned their faestones to their normal size. Gerianne slipped hers into a leather pouch much like Charlotte's if a little less ornate.

Melchior basked in the light of accomplishment. He silently assured his highbeast that it was a good highbeast and they would be the best of friends for the rest of his life. Even though they hadn't flown today there was plenty of time for flying before the Harvest Festival. Then he would introduce his highbeast to his friend Kirk and his other retainers and they could go on adventures.

Gerianne rested for the remainder of their training time while Streita instructed Melchior in the sword forms. He found it harder to remember his lesson from the week prior and only learned one more move because of the time constraints. When they said their farewells, he was given permission to practice changing his highbeast faestone into different objects. “Keep it nice and small so you don't break anything.” Streita instructed.

He spent his normal drawing time morphing the stone into everything in his chambers including poor imitations of attendants. Kirk was especially delighted by the little Sister Streita swinging a tiny sword. Melchior even grabbed his drawings and attempted to make each of his ideas.

At the size he was allowed to work with in his room, the details of any given sculpture were vague and shallow. It was also proving to be impossible to make his highbeast change color. Thus the cart with horse painting was just a cart with wonky wheels. The horse pulling a cart fared just as badly as all its ornate details looked muddled. He had almost nothing to compress before bed but slept very deeply.

Chapter 8: The Rest of Summer

Chapter Text

Summer of the Ambassadors to the High Bishop’s Office

On his last training session at the temple it happened. Gerianne managed a spiky ball and a giant sword. Melchior summoned forth a tubby lion.

“What on earth is that?” Sister Streita asked. “No lion has ever been so oft visited by Cuococalura.”

“It is a lion-pandabus.”

“What is a pandabus?”

“It's like Rozemyne's highbeast. Her’s is based on a grun but mother said I couldn't use a grun so I made mine a lion.” It was only a lion in that it had a lion's face and tail. After trying many designs, Melchior found it the most simple to combine the body of a pandabus with a lion's head.

“Lady Florencia is truly wise,” Streita mused. She walked around the squat abomination. “I think I saw that thing waddling around the castle once. Can it truly fly?”

Sister Streita was surprised to see the side of the animal suddenly part and the high bishop disappear into it. She tried to call out as it shot much too fast into the air then did a shaky lap around the courtyard before landing painfully slowly. The side opened again and she stared into the one-person-sized drivable highbeast to see Melchior sitting in front of a window contemplating the desk in front of him. It only kind of looked like a desk as his chair only kind of looked like a chair.

In truth, Melchior barely remembered the inside of the Pandabus. He knew the chairs were impossibly soft but not their exact shape. The use of a safety belt was a vivid memory but not the contraption itself. There was also the problem that he didn't know how to use reins or the cartwheel Rozemyne used. He knew that highbeasts could fly and do all sorts of maneuvers so he could easily ask his to fly but it felt wrong to be without some sort of control mechanism.

For Streita's part she was worried that he couldn't see out of it. She could accept that it had no wings but Melchior had neglected to add exterior windows. He knew there should be windows so you could see out from inside but he forgot that windows should also be visible from outside. She leaned her head in and realized she could see the wooden posts marking the running area. She stood back up and looked at the completely contiguous hide of the creature and it's face and was baffled. From his seat Melchior couldn't see this problem so when she asked “How do you see out?” he simply replied that you look out the windows.

As far as he was concerned it was a success. The only thing left to do was make it big enough for everyone to ride. He got back out and focused on growing it's size and adding more seats. It was strange when it was only small enough to fit a normal-sized child. As it grew longer and wider, enough to accommodate six people and their luggage, it was disconcerting. The too realistic lion face was larger than any lion had ever been while it's feet looked too small to carry its own weight. Still when she was invited inside, Streita stepped in without fear.

She sat in the passenger seat and looked out the impossible window. “Take us up.” She ordered solemnly. Sister Streita paid special attention to Melchior’s hands and complexion. He looked a bit tired but not dangerously so. His hands just rested on the desk-like expanse that marked the bottom of the window and filled the space between the front of the highbeast and their torsos. It was comfortable if you didn't stop to consider how strange it was.

It was not a long flight. Melchior had already improved his flying over that first ride. “Use a nice even stream of mana. Push in more to go faster and less to slow down. Try to make nice smooth turns. Be sure to look all around you so you don't get disoriented.” They did a lap around the temple. Melchior needed to be guided back to the courtyard. “It's so wide it's hard to see the ground,” she mused then regretted it immediately. The whole floor disappeared. She touched her own highbeast stone, ready to catch them as they tumbled out of the fat lion but detected no falling sensation. He had just added a window to the floor. Melchior didn't remember the Pandabus having a window in the floor but maybe there was a little one under the driver seat. How else could Rozemyne see where and how to land?

After they exited the lion-pandabus, Melchior dismissed it. Fonsel was right. He wasn't completely drained of mana but he was sure he wouldn't be able to fly such a large highbeast far enough to transport everyone for the Harvest Festival. He needed more mana if he were to fulfill his promise.

“I think it's a convenient… creature. I don't think you can fight from inside though.”

“Oh yeah. I need a battle-beast too,” he said.

“As a knight you need to be able to summon your mount without a moment's hesitation or thought. Go ahead and summon a traditional highbeast. Try to think of that one as your highbeast and the other one as a utility highbeast,” Streita advised. It was proper advice but she also wanted to discourage him from summoning that monstrosity anymore than was necessary.

“Ok, I'll make it my utility-beast. Now for the battle-beast.” He thought about his favorite lion iteration. Before long a small winged lion with a wreath of flowers trotted over. Its mane floated majestically in the wind. Fonsel couldn't contain a mixed expression. It revealed mild disgust and utter bafflement. He wondered why the flowers and how could it move on its own. It also didn't have reins. Melchior stepped on gingerly, avoiding the wings, and buried his hands in its mane.

“Well it's very cute. The extra ornamentation costs extra mana but you have mana to spare so I guess it's alright.” Sister Streita was beside herself. Who would put so much detail into a highbeast? Most highbeasts were no better than giant sculptures. Lay nobles would skimp on the details to save energy but Melchior was splurging on realistic fur. She wondered for a moment if it was breathing. Her curiosity got the better of her and she reached out to stroke its rump. Why she was disappointed it wasn't warm with the vigor of life she would never say. Gerianne appeared next to them.

“Can I pet it?” she asked. He said she could so she wrapped her arms around its head and buried her face in its soft fur. “It's kind of cold.”

“It's made of stone,” he countered.

“I will complete my schnestrum,” she declared but Streita told her to rest for the day.

The next morning was the last time he would ride with one of his retainer’s. He picked Sigsnyr’s horse since his advice has been helpful in the end. Melchior looked down at the noble's quarter and over the wall. While it was comfortable to be transported in the sweet smelling embrace of a retainer, he was looking forward to conveying himself.

The rest of summer was haunted by his penance. How could his retinue not notice any changes? He disliked math yet piled math onto his plate. He passed down even the tartest pieces of fruit. He loved to draw yet hadn't drawn a single thing in well over a week. Naturally, they began asking questions.

Melchior insisted he just wanted to improve the subjects he was most lacking in, that sugar wasn't agreeing with him lately, and that he wanted to pursue other kinds of self expression. This primarily took the form of either excessive harspieling with a severe expression or writing boring stories. The shrine maiden in charge of teaching harspiel praised him for his progress. She also said he would soon surpass his practice partners so he started going back over old material rather than practicing the new stuff. His castle tutor recommended trying a new instrument instead and brought him a flute.

He found less success in improving his math. Just doing more of it was making him faster on the calculator but that was barely translating to a speed increase in processing accounts. Dirk was the fastest at math out of all the apprentice blues. His advice, when asked, was to do more math and memorize frequently encountered sums. Melchior didn't think he was particularly helpful.

Kirk also wasn't particularly helpful with his plants. The flower he collected somehow found its way to his room. He was introduced to the concept of a flower pot and found it a little sad that there would be no mound of dirt but the pot was Lothar's stipulation for keeping weeds in his room. However, Lothar did nothing to care for it because Melchior ordered him not to. That way, he figured, it wouldn't make more work for his head temple retainer. Sheila said she knew nothing about caring for live vegetables and was also allowed to ignore it. Unfortunately, neither Melchior nor Kirk had any experience taking care of plants so the brave first ambassador to the High Bishop's chambers sadly died in under a week. When the temple orphans found out they consoled him gently and found him a new flower. This tableau repeated weekly and unstoppably.

Lord Bonifiatus made good on his promise to send equipment. His retainers commandeered a corner of the training courtyard to set up weights while he watched from a tea party with Streita and Melchior. He returned on a different day to demonstrate their use and have dinner with the High Bishop. Melchior performed a few songs on his harspiel and received praise for his diligent practice. “If you're just as diligent about lifting heavy weights, you’ll be strong enough to crush faebeasts in no time,” Bonifiatus boomed. They also served ice cream again. His dessert penance had technically been lifted but since he’d promised a month for everything else he didn't realize. Never was he closer to regretting his trip to the forest nor were his retainers more suspicious.

At least he was being served more meat. Lord Bonifiatus began sending him the occasional fruits of his hunting. Sheila continued to include a stunning variety of vegetable preparation as well. She and his chefs enthusiastically took on the challenge of preparing the strange and varied cuts of undisclosed faebeast.

There was another new addition to the training courtyard. Sigsnyr finally got permission to visit the temple. Isolde'd found out about the scheme somehow and finagled her own permission. They surprised Melchior by appearing one morning at breakfast. He took them on a brief tour. Rather than having the Divine Instrument brought to his room they went to visit their normal resting place. Sigsnyr gleefully offered four small stones worth to Schutzaria’s shield. Isolde made a modest one stone offering to the staff of Flutrane.

Sigsnyr tutored them on the knights course during their study time in the orphanage. Isolde spent only one bell there then chose to assist Kazmiar in his office. She wasn't much more helpful than Melchior at first but a few rounds of Lothar's withering and patient correction gave her new motivation to improve. Sigsnyr also grew attached to Lothar. He watched him work whenever he was standing guard and asked him endless questions whenever there was a spare moment. He was particularly fascinated by the temple attendants ability to do attendant work without any magic tools. Kirk was more than happy to divulge every tiny detail of their profession but his lack of experience meant his tutelage didn't have the same allure.

Sister Streita accepted her new student with open arms. She praised his sword forms and work ethic but seemed most delighted to have an excuse to spar with Dedryck. Nikolaus had a harder time sparring with Sigsnyr. He suspected that Dedryck had been going easy on him to help him learn. Sigsnyr had no such compunction driving him to gently guide a knight two years his junior and seemingly came at him with all his skill and power. Nikolaus couldn't believe he’d ever mistaken him for a girl. Isolde chose to return home after lunch rather than train with everyone. She didn't have the clothes or a place to change. Sister Streita offered to find her some and give her the use of her apartments and attendants if she wanted. She was forced to admit that she simply didn't want to get too big and muscular.

His days continued in this manner punctuated by stressful tea parties with his siblings and poorly played flute. Dedryck’s unwillingness to discuss his love life left Melchior with the solemn duty to deflect all questions concerning his head knight's romantic intentions. At least he enjoyed the flute more than the harspiel.

Just as the Summer Coming of Age ceremony was upon them, the temple met for its Autumn Festival planning. Isolde sat to the side, taking notes and observing the clergy. Melchior gave a short speech introducing Sister Streita and thanking everyone for their hard work over the Spring Prayer. Most priests would be sent to the same places they visited for Spring Prayer. Kampfer and Frietack were ceeding some of their towns in the central district to Sister Streita and would be compensated with towns collected from other priests who contributed less work to the High Priest and the temple over all. People grumbled but no one was losing much and Streita was being given a paltry spread for her first festival. She’d neither contributed to Spring Prayer nor participated before but it would make for good practice. She also didn't need the money and therefore didn't complain. The laxidasical schedule also meant she could do a bit of hunting.

Since she had the most mana and would be closest at hand, she was on first call for any trombe attacks. If she were somehow indisposed, Nikolaus would be called. If he was also unavailable, it would fall to Melchior wherever he was at the time. His old, too small, ceremonial robes would be stored at the castle as a backup.

With all the normal business out of the way, Sister Philine was given the floor.

“I am grateful from the bottom of my heart to have passed so many peaceful years here in the temple. It truly warms my soul to see the changes and improvements pioneered by Lady Rozemyne endure through our combined efforts. I am therefore terribly sad to be leaving you next spring after the Archduke's Conference.” Several priests gasped. It was rare to return to noble society once you'd joined the temple. “This winter I will graduate from the Royal Academy. 6th year courses will keep me detained there for most of the winter following which I must prepare for my move to Alexandria.” There were even more gasps. Melchior was unsure how so many priests were still unaware that Philine was only serving until she came of age and could follow Rozemyne and marry Damuel. It was such old news, perhaps they’d forgotten.

She continued “We must select a replacement for the position of Orphanage Director so the hand off can be complete before my departure. Are there any volunteers?” She looked around her eyes rested on a few priests but no one would meet them. A small hand raised after a short interval. She placed a hand to her cheek. “Brother Dirk is the only one who wishes to volunteer out of all our devoted clergy?”

“I want to ensure the orphanage is a safe place for everyone to live,” he declared. Before Philine could accept his appointment, Sister Streita stood up.

“You lot should be ashamed. How long have you enjoyed the comforts of the temple and the fruits of the orphanages' diligent raising of attendants. Will you really allow the responsibility of such an important task to fall to a child!” The gray priests cowered. The apprentice blues felt some indignation at having their reliability questioned. Dirk seemed undeterred. “Come on then. Let's see someone willing to take on the work so easily managed by a little girl.” Even under her accusing stare no one volunteered. The only reliable priests were already working for the High Priest’s office and the rest were motivated only to do as little work as possible. Sister Philine's job was the opposite of a life of leisure. She might be an apprentice but she had long since produced work to rival experienced scholars. “Truly?”

Sister Streita looked at the assembly then at Dirk. His determination only served to highlight the uselessness of everyone else. Gerianne also raised her hand. She didn't know what it took to run the orphanage but she didn't want to seem f*ckless in front of her mentor. This only made Streita more upset. “I don't see you volunteering,” one bold priest muttered. Melchior tensed. Sister Streita didn't like children. How could she be the Orphanage Director? She was also likely going to contribute more mana than all these blue priests combined. How could they ask her to do more?

“You're right,” she said to his surprise. “Leidenschaft charges at the fore when fire razes it's enemies. 16” She looked at Dirk. “Young Brother Dirk, you shall continue to hone your skills. In the meantime, I will replace Sister Philine and ensure the safety of the orphanage.”

Before anyone had a moment to consider, Philine brought the matter to a close. “Thank you, Sister Streita. The orphans will surely benefit from your diligent care. Praise be to the gods.”

“Glory to the gods!” the clergy replied without hesitation. Isolde and Streita hid their surprise.

After the blue priests were released back to their rooms, Sister Streita stood inspecting the meeting hall. Melchior asked what she was looking at. “This room looks very similar to the indoor training halls at the Knights Order. If we moved all these extra tables, there would be enough space to get in a few swings over the winter.” Melchior looked at Kazmiar. He was too deep into conversation with Philine about the hand over to notice. He looked at Lothar. Lothar smiled and came over.

“How many I be of service, Lord Melchior?”

“Could we move the tables? We use less than half anyway.” Lothar considered the appropriateness of training knights inside the temple meeting room. There would definitely be enough space and storing the extra tables wouldn't be a burden. No one would have to dust them if they were in storage.

“If you would like the unused tables carried out, I can arrange for the gray priests to have them moved to the basem*nt.” Melchior looked back at Streita who was inspecting the floor with great interest. She'd noticed a line of wooden circles set flush with the floor and painted white to match the ivory building.

“If it would make Sister Streita happy, I think we should. She agreed to run the orphanage even though she doesn't like kids.” Lothar promised to have it done. He asked Streita's attendant to get a more complete idea of what the former knight would want in an indoor training room.

Paid Debts

His next temple day, he and Nikolaus finally presented their stories. Melchior brought several of the boring ones he wasn't proud of and the one story he thought had any merit. He’d written about the temple invasion as he’d experienced it. He changed the names and the reason. In this version, a greedy noble has come to steal the High Bishop's bible to learn the powerful prayers held within. No one needed to know that said bible wasn't stored in a secret compartment in the temple bookroom during non-existent emergencies. He hoped they wouldn't question why elaborate traps were set rather than moving it to a more secure or more secret location. There also wasn't any explanation for how the High Bishop knew the silver clad thief was sending doppelgangers and killing priests despite being holed up in their chambers. If one could ignore all of this, it was a harrowing tale about the little High Bishop hiding in fear while hoping all their preparations would protect the duchy’s treasured bible.

Isolde had given it lukewarm praise. “It's unique and kind of scary even if it's hard to believe.” Philine read it through after one of his boring compositions about a boy struggling to learn a harspiel tune to impress his crush. He’d stacked that one on top to set realistic expectations.

“I think this is a good start. You captured the fear from that day well. I had similar feelings while waiting in the High Bishop's chambers. I'm sure Nikolaus was nervous too.” Nikolaus nodded. He was terrified the whole time that Georgina would come to his room. When he learned after the fact that she had murdered a priest and his attendants, he was scared all over again. “You don't have to have a distinct target for the invader. Do you know why we were told to protect the bookroom?”

“No one ever told me but I assume it's very important. Do you know why?”

“I don't but I have some guesses. Don't you think readers would get an even better sense of the day if they also don't know why the High Bishop has to protect his book room?” He agreed wholeheartedly. She also offered to add in some passages about her own experience. When they were done writing and editing together, their story made for a gripping tale about the temple denizens preparing for and hiding during a mysterious attack. They received vague but dire warnings directly from the Archduke then enacted the safety protocols they hoped never to need. Nikolaus didn't like reading it. His story was also accepted after a few edits for clarity and syntax.

Eventually, his time of penance ended. He vowed never to pick up a harspiel if he didn't have too and took the opportunity to shave off a little of his harspiel time for flute. He spent all his free time drawing and reading his favorite books for a while to clean his palette. He’d gotten used to the increased compression and feeling a little sick before bed. Plus he wanted more mana before the Harvest Festival so he kept that up. For the first time in a long time, he actively ordered dessert. Melchior ate his pound cake with whipped cream and honey in dazed bliss.

Most of his drawings right after he regained his freedom were of the weeds that kept dying in his temple chambers. Isolde was confused and annoyed by the collection of ugly, dying plants and went to interview the greenhouse keepers on the basics of plant care. It took a few more attempts, but Melchior and Kirk coaxed one allegras plant to endure for a full week and a half. They said prayers for it before Kirk carried it away for disposal.

He also drew illustrations for the stories they’d offered. Philine paid them for their contributions and he received extra for his drawings. The boys held their physical coins and knew the joy of having money for the first time. It had always been simply numbers on a page for Melchior. It used to be so distant and abstract but his new silvers were cold and solid and felt distinctly his. He knew almost immediately what he wanted to use it for.

Kirk wanted to run errands. Melchior rarely needed someone to visit the lower city on his behalf. When those precious moments came, Kirk was always disappointed not to go. The main problem was simply that he didn't have any clothes to wear. Lothar had clothes from his time serving Rozemyne. He even knew where the second hand stores were in both the rich and poor districts of the city. Melchior took his newly acquired wealth and gave it to him.

“Please take Kirk to the clothing store and purchase two appropriate sets of clothes and a winter coat,” he declared triumphantly.

“Will Sheila also be needing a set of clothes and winter coat?” Lothar coaxed. Melchior was fairly certain he hadn't made enough on his story to cover so much stuff.

“Yes. I think so. If that isn't enough, please use some of the funds from my chambers.” He tried to sound like he’d deeply considered this plan before enacting it. From what he remembered, his frugal habits meant that his chambers had some savings in addition to what was saved for winter preparations. Lothar promised to acquire the necessary outfits.

All the extra math turned out to be less burdensome than he expected. With so much on his pile he wasn't as useful as before but he had a personal revelation. Doing mostly transcriptions had obfuscated just how much of paperwork was math. He gained a real drive to improve but found that doing random lists of equations didn't seem to translate to being better at balancing budgets. It was because of this striving that he asked Haldis to let him work on his castle budget as well as the temple one he was already doing.

Zargerecht returned from some miscellaneous errands to see his young master sitting at his desk with his head in his hands and a look of abject horror while Haldis stood beside calmly answering questions. Isolde was asking most of the questions so Zargerecht pulled Haldis into the retainers room.

“Why did you give him the accounts?” he asked with a veiled anger. Haldis replied equally calmly.

“The young master asked to see them.”

“You have proven to be a skilled attendant, Haldis. I would expect you to be capable of convincing a child to direct his attention elsewhere.”

“Your praise gladdens my heart. The experience of attending my previous masters creates a pattern of lords wishing to maintain an understanding of their finances. It did not strike me as strange that Lord Melchior would wish to check his castle accounts in the same way he checks his temple accounts,” Haldis replied.

“Did his temple attendants not inform us that his expenditures cause Lord Melchior minor distress? Why then would we allow him to see how much is necessary to manage his castle chambers?” Zargerecht had been so careful. When Lady Florencia received the report form Lothar that Melchior was attempting to save money on his meals and even wanted to reduce his number of attendants she’d instructed Zargerecht to prevent him from similarly interfering with the running of the castle. He was the son of the Archduke. Naturally no expense was spared on his upbringing even if Ehrenfest's Archductal family wasn't a nest of spendthrifts.

“I was never informed such circ*mspection was required of his attendants. Do inform me of any other restrictions I should be aware of. Mestinora’s book only contains her wisdom17,” Haldis argued. He felt especially annoyed that they were having this conversation while Melchior was in the middle of the foretold break down. “Is it not our place as attendants to care for our master's wellbeing?” He phrased it as a question but was returning to the main room as he spoke.

“This is why I said your portraits were so valuable. It's very expensive to train an artist,” Isolde was explaining. They’d only gotten to the second biggest expense. Wages for his retainers was the most expensive line item but it was actually covered by the duchy directly. It was listed in a section along with his portion of dinner and a couple other miscellaneous expenses. Art supplies were the largest expenditure actually funded from his allowance. He hadn't done much drawing over the summer season so the costs didn't look too bad. He kept looking back and forth between the previous spring and being shocked all over again.

“This is more than the orphanage spends on food in the summer!” he cried.

“Food is much cheaper in the summer,” Nikolaus noted. He’d had a similar breakdown when reconciling the cost of his winter preparations.

“And I didn't know clothes were so expensive. Why do I buy so many clothes!”

“Children outgrow clothing very quickly. Wilfred’s clothes aren't generally appropriate for you so you have to have new ones made,” Haldis explained when he returned to the conversation. He pointed out that shoes were an even bigger concern.

Melchior racked his brain. Surely something could be removed or reduced somehow. Zargerecht watched in agony as all his carefully kept secrets came to light. Zargerecht had served other Archduke candidates in Frenbeltag so he knew Melchior's expenses were nothing out of the ordinary. Even the glut of paper that ran through his fingers could just have easily been equipment for a different but equally expensive hobby. He wanted to console the boy but all his worries were concrete and listed in black and white.

It was all too much to look at the expenditures so Melchior shifted over to the income section. Most of his income came from being the Archduke’s son. The next biggest portion came from his mother, seemingly as a gift. A depressingly small amount was paid to him for his work in various offices. It was disheartening to see that drawing templates for his father was more lucrative than all his other work. On the upside, he could do that work from the comfort of his room.

On the summer boards there was a newly added line of income for payments for his art. It was mostly gathered as recompense for all the portraits and drawings he gave his retainers. That didn't account for the entire total though.

“You charged Charlotte for the hairpin designs!” he confronted Haldis.

“Lady Charlotte wished to make exclusive use of her selections. She felt it would be inappropriate to monopolize a gift in that way so she insisted on buying them outright. She worried you would be offended by a sterile business interaction when your intentions were magnanimous so we agreed not to speak of it,” Haldis replied. For a moment he understood Zargerecht’s grief.

“Father pays me an allowance but where does that money come from?” The money in the temple was donated by the priest's families, provided by the Archduke's Office, and gathered during the Harvest Festival. In all his working in the various centers of power he still wasn't sure how money entered the duchies coffers.

Isolde answered. “There are a few duchy industries, like the printing industry. Part of their profits go to the duchy. Occasionally, the property of criminals is confiscated. Most of it comes from taxes paid by the denizens of Ehrenfest and rent paid by the denizens of Ehrenfest.”

“The denizens of Ehrenfest would be so disappointed,” Melchior muttered and rested his head on the desk. He felt so exhausted. His contribution to the duchy was so small yet he consumed so many resources. He could only think of one thing to begin doing about it. “Isolde, please inquire with the Archduke's Office about completing more form templates. I am prepared to produce about three times the usual amount if I can complete the work in my spare time.”

“Lord Melchior, you don't need to take on an apprentice scholar's work to fund your chambers,” said Zargerecht. He felt just as defeated as his lord knowing how upset Lady Florencia would be.

“That's true. It wouldn’t begin to approach the necessary amount,” Isolde added. Haldis gave her a rare glare. She paled and tried to recover. “It would be better to find ways to use your unique talents. You could sell more portraits, for example. They make a great gift.” Melchior didn't react. That had similar profit expectations to drawing templates.

“You could illustrate more books. Lady Elvira is always looking for good artists,” Nikolaus offered. That seemed to get his attention. Books were an important part of the duchy's industry. He didn't know how much illustrations were worth but he vaguely understood that you would keep receiving payment as books with your pictures were sold. Wilma was also moving to Alexandria with Sister Philine. There would be more need for illustrators with her gone. It was a good plan. It was just unfortunate that it might lead to an even more wanton use of paper. Melchior looked at his pile of plant memorials and sighed.

When he returned to the temple he asked Wilma about illustrating. She showed the mimeograph slides and printing templates and gave him tips for making his art more printable. Then she gave him a hard truth. “It is almost impossible to draw subject matter you have little experience with. Love stories set at the Royal Academy are a staple of the book industry. Having yet to attend would make it difficult to draw art for them. You don't have too many life experiences. As you get older and see more things you will naturally get better at representing a variety of subjects.” This was the same problem he’d run into when writing his bribe. He needed to see more things to make money through books but everyday of his life came at great expense.

There was a ray of hope though. “I make much more money from drawing custom orders,” Wilma began. “Paintings of Lord Ferdinand and Lady Rozemyne frequently sell for great sums.”

“Paintings of Sister and Uncle are valuable to strangers?” he clarified.

“Yes. Lord Ferdinand still has a loyal fan base in Ehrenfest and there are a select few patrons willing to import iconography of Lady Rozemyne.” Something about this felt strange to Melchior. He wasn't sure he wanted to engage with the market but kept the information at the back of his mind.

He practiced harspiel with Nikolaus and Gerianne before lunch. On the way back to his chambers Gerianne made a request.

“I’d like to become your guard knight.” She declared. Melchior needed knights and had reason to believe in her skills but he’d only just confronted how much even apprentices cost so he couldn't agree right away.

“Why do you want to be a guard knight?”

“I want to see the castle and enjoy the food prepared by your chefs,” she answered without reservation. He stopped walking in surprise.

“I can invite you to lunch and you’ll go to the castle for the winter playroom just like last year,” he offered. Her desires were easy to fulfill without serving anyone.

“That is a tempting offer indeed. Thank you, Lord Melchior. I have more to recommend myself than simply being your training partner though I believe that is an asset as well.” She followed them back to his chambers and sat across from him. Lothar looked perplexed by the guest he hadn't been informed of. Melchior was also confused. He hadn't intended to invite her to lunch right that minute. His normal meals at the temple were always simple if delicious. If he anticipated having a guest, he asked Shelia to produce something fancier. Now that she was here and seated though, he couldn't just kick her out.

She received her meal and continued selling herself. “I am a mednoble but my family has produced mednobles with near archnoble levels of mana for generations. We are the same age so I can serve you for all 6 years of the Royal Academy. I already have my parents' approval to work in the temple. You currently have only one girl in your retinue. It is always hard to be the only girl among boys, so you would benefit from having another female retainer.” The girl in question cut in to assure Melchior that she needed no such consideration. “I am also a blue shrine maiden and can act as a guard during religious ceremonies where guard knights are not normally permitted.”

These were all compelling points in Melchior's opinion. However, the decision mostly wasn't up to him. Gerianne was the daughter of criminals. She was a shrine maiden because her parents had been sent to prison for minor crimes and couldn't retrieve her from the castle playroom. She’d grown to enjoy temple life and chose to stay but that didn’t change that people saw it as a punishment. Melchior had already fought to keep Pepin as his future attendant and to make Nikolaus one of his guard knights. He wasn't sure he could convince his parents to accept another retainer from the defunct Veronica Faction.

“I can only promise to ask,” he said in the end. Gerianne seemed satisfied with her lunch meeting and walked happily back to her chambers to change for training.

Once he returned to the castle, Isolde delivered his request to his mother. He shared his money making ambitions with his siblings over tea. They took the opportunity to vent about their own money troubles and the ever present constraint of needing to make money in ventures befitting the child of the Archduke. Wilfred made some income by selling the fruits of his hunts. He was still constrained to the Royal Academy and Noble's Forest so it wasn't terribly lucrative. Charlotte gained some income from working in the printing industry but she felt she was doing more work than the pay was worth. Sadly neither of them had any advice for how someone as young and useless as Melchior could earn extra funds. Though they didn't use those exact words, it was clear that unless he had a brilliant idea for an entirely new industry, he wasn't going to be able to be of much use.

At least his visits to his younger sister were joyful in an uncomplicated way. He brought her some of his drawings to look at. She took a surprising shine to the spiky little weed Kirk had killed in three days when he experimented with watering it with milk. He let her keep the picture to hang on her wall next to a large and elaborate masterpiece depicting the castle on a spring day. Her attendant was beside herself.

More Mana More Problems

The Summer Coming of Age ceremony came and went. Melchior wore his usual sling of faestones but he chose to use his own mana for the first time. Once the blessing was raining down on all the new adults, he was annoyed. It didn't take nearly as much mana as he thought. He felt he could have managed them from the beginning. He also had the two orphans who were coming of age summoned to his chambers and blessed them as well. This earned him a chiding from Lothar.

“You must not show favoritism. No other orphans have been blessed. Their ritual does not require it.”

“I wish to begin blessing the orphans as well. Many spend their whole lives in the temple and never see a true blessing,” Melchior argued.

“True blessings have only recently been reintroduced to the temple practices. Most blue priests had never seen one before Lady Rozemyne became the High Bishop. Lord Melchior, you do not need to be concerned about the gray clergy not receiving blessings like the lower city commoners.” Lothar spoke calmly. He felt a bit of nostalgia for the abrupt rampages of the former High Bishop. It was good that they were generally in the service of doing good deeds but terrifying in the way they ignored proper conventions

“Why do the grey clergy have a different ritual to the commoners?”

“Because they are not of the lower city,” Lothar responded but he wasn't sure about the actual reasons. It had simply always been this way.

“But you are a commoner of Ehrenfest, right?”

“In a legal sense, yes. However, we are also the property of the temple. We are raised to be servants for nobles. We are different.” Melchior didn't feel this explained things. “This is how it has always been. Rituals must be preserved,” Lothar gave the only answer he could truly be certain of.

Since the blessing has gone so well, Melchior wanted to see if he was ready to fly the large Lion-pandabus. Just summoning it was mana-intensive but he felt he had plenty left for flying. Sigsnyr joined him in the passenger seat as they flew to the castle. He spent the ride bouncing in his seat and asking an endless stream of questions which Melchior mostly ignored. It was difficult to drive his utility-beast. On his normal lion he only had to shift his weight and think in the direction he wanted. He experimented with holding reins but found they added nothing to his ability to steer. The Lion-pandabus was unwieldy by comparison. His vision was slightly obstructed and he couldn't get a good feel for the dimensions of the animal. The stream of mana used to move it was slightly thicker than for his lion and it's acceleration was sluggish. Every size iteration had different requirements as well.

By the time they landed, he was mentally drained. He wasn't sure how far he could travel. His mana might hold out but he wouldn't be able to perform the rituals by the time he got there. Rozemyne always seemed totally unaffected by even the largest version of her Pandabus. Melchior felt he would need a lot more mana to reach her ability. For the upcoming festival, he could use the faestones for rituals so he only needed enough mana to fly safely and enough mental stamina to sustain his attention.

To solve the first problem, he would need to work harder at compression. His new request for teaching was similarly rebuffed with promises of learning at the Royal Academy. His retainers seemed more wary of discussing it this time around but he gleaned from Nikolaus that Rozemyne's method used multiple stages for compressing. He attempted the box method but his liquid mana just sloshed out and he couldn't reconcile it with his existing well technique. The best he could come up with was imagining using Geduldh’s chalice to move mana more efficiently. He could pour mana into it continuously like he did for Spring Prayer while tipping the contents into his well. It was faster but that meant he grew tired faster and encountered a more gradual increase in resistance.

It was also time to take the second part of the warnings as advice. If you weren't at least a little desperate, you wouldn't make much progress through compression. He still didn't think he needed to risk his life for more mana but he might make more progress if he had a reason to regulate his mana more aggressively. He took out his magic tool. It has been a constant companion since before he could remember. Whenever his mana or emotions felt like they might overflow he could use it to expel some and regain control. Such times were very rare now. He had better control over his emotions and more coping strategies than when he was younger. Without it to fall back on he would have to employ those strategies to their fullest and that included mana compression.

He knew Zargerecht would advise him to keep it on him at all times in case of emergency, so he chose not to tell him. He left the tool in a drawer in his hidden room in the castle. Any emotional breakdowns were mostly likely to happen in this room anyway. If they did occur in the temple he could make an offering to the Divine Instruments. He didn't anticipate this being too much of a problem though. He was using his mana more often now that he had a highbeast.

He also could not have anticipated how awful it would be to wake up still feeling sick. The first time, he couldn't manage to put on a normal face and worried his retainers. After testing his limits over the course of two weeks, he found an acceptable level of misery. It was going to be worth it to avoid the carriages during the Harvest Festival.

His finances were not so easily fixed. Sigsnyr proved to have the most ideas about solving his money troubles.

“If you need to know how to draw more things, look at more pictures. Ehrenfest castle has tons of art lying around,” he noted. Melchior could also ask his patrons for reference sketches then improve them. Sigsnyr personally knew people who would buy portraits for the love of art and could find people who just wanted the opportunity to get closer to the Archduke's son.

Unfortunately, the art available in the castle was mostly collections of illustrations of faebeasts or illuminations in religious texts. There was also one very ornate book about the various birds in their region. The author has been blindingly passionate but their surviving relatives couldn't look at another bird and gifted the thing to the Archduke after their death. Melchior also didn't want to attract business from people who just wanted to take advantage of his standing. He agreed to do portraits of individuals vetted by Zargerecht.

Aside from selling art or influence, Sigsnyr also recommended firing personnel. Between his older siblings and retainers, he could access notes on almost every year of the Royal Academy general classes. The Archduke Candidate’s course had to be taught by a member of the Archductal family anyway. With a bit of direction from Zargerecht, he could manage with self-directed study or tutoring from his older retainers. “You have so many private tutors.”

“Private instruction is vital for achieving the grades expected of an Archduke Candidate,” Zargerecht said. He couldn't allow Melchior to petition his mother to fire his teachers to save money.

“Rozemyne only had Lord Ferdinand and her harspiel instructor and still came First in Class,” Melchior said.

“You don't not have Lord Ferdinand as an instructor nor are you Lady Rozemyne,” was all Zargerecht could say. It wasn't technically wrong that Melchior's current collection of teachers was more than he might need but Lady Florencia wasn't taking any chances with raising her remaining children. Wilfred's upbringing had been such a disaster she almost couldn’t correct his failings once she regained control from Lady Veronica.

“Well, tutors aside. Why do you have two useless scholars?” Sigsnyr asked.

“My scholars aren't useless!” Melchior replied. “Kazmiar serves as the High Priest and Isolde helps with work.” As he said it he realized he wasn't making a strong case even if he knew in his heart it was true.

“The position of High Priest serves the duchy, not you personally. Isolde could apprentice in the Archduke's or First Wife’s office. You won't get much use out of her outside of the Royal Academy,” Sigsnyr continued. Isolde watched Melchior but said nothing.

“Isolde is useful. As her lord, I just can't make good use of her skills yet.”

“That's the same thing,” Sigsnyr said.

Melchior didn't know how to respond. Isolde wasn't uniquely useful but that wasn't her fault. She was certainly trying to find ways to help. “I don't want to fire Isolde. I want to learn to make good use of my scholars so we can help the duchy. Father said raising scholars is the most important thing for Ehrenfest to do over the next ten years.” Maybe he wasn't good at raising scholars yet but he would never learn if he didn't try. He wondered if Isolde regretted serving a lord who couldn't appreciate her skills. “Do you like working for me, Isolde? I can put in a good word with Mother if you prefer.”

Isolde looked down, her usual smile nowhere to be seen. “I want to work for you,” she whispered.

“Then fire Kazmiar,” Sigsnyr said. “He already has another job anyway.” Somehow that was easier to stomach. He would ask Kazmiar how he felt about it.

Footnotes

16. You must lead by example. ^

17. “I can't be expected to know things I haven't been told”. Also “knowledge is domain specific” but that's for the future. ^

Chapter 9: The Many Delights of Autumn

Chapter Text

Wilfred's Friends

The Autumn Gewinnen tournament was due to begin. Alexis had taken home second place in Summer, much to Wilfred's consternation. For Autumn, Wilfred decided to mix things up. Their Gewinnen boards were set up in the main portion of the castle and Wilfred invited his friends from the Noble's Quarter. To match the grandeur of the event, the prize was suitably bigger. Up for grabs was a dessert recipe.

With so many extra people, their guard knights had to do actual guarding. Dedryck excused himself completely from play, preventing several people from challenging the famed tactician directly. Only two out of his three remaining knights could be placed in matches at a time. Wilfred took on the burden of constructing the brackets. Melchior's first opponent was a third year.

During their game they talked a bit about Nikolaus who was also starting his third year. As an archnoble, Nikolaus was the de facto leader of the younger Veronica Faction holdovers. However, since faction politics was largely ignored at the Royal Academy, he was able to keep mostly to himself or hang out with Pepin. “What great fortune that he managed to be accepted as a retainer to an Archduke Candidate. Oh but he is a son of Linkburg18.” said his opponent. Melchior felt a special motivation to win.

No matter how well he played though, a 3 stone game still took awhile. His opponent shared some tales about his hunting exploits. He lamented that Melchior was still too young to join the other boys on their hunts but that he could send his guard knights if he wanted. Of course he would need at least a couple more knights to have the leeway to send them on excursions. After thoroughly reducing Melchior's opinion of faebeast hunting, the boy went on to ask some bold questions about Charlotte's romantic prospects. “Does Lady Charlotte have her eye on Ehrenfest’s subordinates of fire?” he probed.

“The men of Ehrenfest’s Eternal Five are all her brothers,” Melchior responded. Everyone knew Charlotte needed to marry another Archduke Candidate as the future Archduch*ess.

“I see Anwachs’s fellows wouldn't be sufficient to her tastes19.” he tutted and killed a piece.

“It would require someone of quality to support Charlotte in her work,” Melchior said while imitating the smile his uncle used when particularly displeased. His opponent seemed fooled by its radiance and foolishly continued.

“Has Ehrenfest not greatly improved our quality in recent years? Why look beyond the grandeur of our archnoble houses?” Melchior could feel a Crushing force well up inside him. But it was very rude to Crush people so he suppressed the urge.

“I do not think a mednoble would be so well informed on the prospects of archnoble sons. How very impressive that you are even knowledgeable enough to comment on the future of my venerated sister when you know so little about what could improve your own.”

Isolde sucked in a breath loud enough to hear a few games over. She had a bewitching smile as she scribbled notes. Melchior's seat partner finally got the message to shut up and lose gracefully.

Wilfred had also won his game. He looked very happy to be able to spend time with his friends. After warm farewells and assurances of their impending victory, they boys parted ways. Upon their return to the castle, Melchior and Wilfred had tea in Wilfred’s room and talked about the matches. Wilfred's scholar, Barthold, shared the results of the first round of the tournament then asked if Melchior had any information to contribute. Isolde spoke up immediately.

“We took down the names of the attendees and their attitudes during play.” She shared her observations on who looked patient or well mannered or easily flustered then turned the question back around.

“We got a few complaints,” Wilfred began. “A few people insinuated that your scholar was distracting. Gewinnen is a game for male socializing. It's fine to bring a female scholar when it's just us but people will assume she’s your only one if you bring her to male socializing,” he continued.

“She is my only available scholar.” Melchior said.

“You should acquire a male scholar to accompany you to such events.” Barthold said and Wilfred nodded.

“If people are more comfortable they are more likely to share important information,” Wilfred added.

“Isolde just sits in the corner of the room and takes notes like your scholars. How could that be distracting?” Melchior asked. Haldis took a half step forward. It was time to leave.

“She’s a girl at male socializing. I’ve gone to enough girls-only tea parties to know how uncomfortable it is for everyone.” Wilfred said.

“I understand. I will consider your counsel, Wilfred. I must prepare for dinner. Please excuse me.”

“Alright. See you at dinner,” Wilfred said and gave him a little shooing gesture.

Everyone had words to share when he returned to his room. Isolde brought out his area-soundblocker and they all huddled in. “How dare he ask for our intelligence without sharing anything of value!” she fumed.

“I haven't played with such a rude opponent in some time. He kept saying my hair was too feminine,” Sigsnyr grumbled. No one could note that it was braided very similarly to a female knight’s at the moment.

“What do you think about his advice to get a new scholar?” Fonsel asked.

“If Wilfred's friends can’t focus on their games because one girl is in the room, they’ll be useless at the Archduke Conference,” Isolde spat.

“Well sure, but if they hide information because of it then maybe it's a good idea,” Fonsel countered.

“I think it's more important that the knights were trying to join your retinue,” Nikolaus interrupted.

“Was someone rude to you, Nikolaus?” Melchior asked, remembering his seat partner's insinuations.

“Not really. They just asked what you were looking for and how many you plan to add at the Royal Academy.”

“Two is a pattern,” Isolde mused. “Do you think Wilfred invited his knight friends intentionally to introduce them to you?”

They all thought for a moment. “If he wanted to recommend people, wouldn't he make a formal introduction?” Melchior questioned. “That’s what father did with Sigsnyr.”

“Maybe he wants you to become friends first then take them as a retainer,” Nikolaus ventured.

“Seems like he just wanted you to get to know his friends,” Fonsel added.

Isolde finished musing, “I think he might want you to approach him about recommending one of his friends. That would put him in a position to negotiate and absolve him of responsibility should they misbehave.”

“That sounds awfully devious.” Sigsnyr said.

“Melchior has knights from both his parents faction's and a scholar from his sisters faction but no retainers from Wilfred’s faction.” Isolde looked at Nikolaus. “You even have a knight recommended by Rozemyne. Maybe Wilfred feels like you asked everyone except him for retainers.”

“Nikolaus is from the temple not Rozemyne,” Melchior argued.

“The temple was her domain before she became Aub Alexandria and Nikolaus is her half-brother,” Sigsnyr said.

“I think you're reading too much into a nice gesture. It's just a coincidence that Wilfred hasn't recommended a retainer yet. Why would he go to all this hubbub?” Fonsel waved them off. “You’re going to miss dinner if you keep crafting conspiracies all night.” He walked out of the bubble.

“Lady Veronica is a very suspicious person. He might have inherited her delicate sensibilities,” Sigsnyr said as he also returned to a guarding position.

“Shall I look into this?” Isolde asked. Her eyes sparkled at the prospect of real sleuthing.

“If you think it's important. Can you also give me a list of which of Wilfred’s friends would make good retainers?” Melchior asked.

“Leave it to me. I'll have my notes from today ready by tomorrow morning,” she said and skipped out of the room. Nikolaus collected the magic tool while Haldis herded Melchior towards a bath.

Isolde's notes ended up being a summary of his conversation and some stray bits from other tables. He was annoyed all over again reading them. Isolde also had a letter from Sister Philine which contained a second letter from Rozemyne. She wrote that she couldn't wait to pass it to him and so had it sent to the castle rather than wait for him to return to the temple. The castle scholars had opened it since it was correspondence from another duchy.

Rozemyne said she loved his story and thought it was the beginning of a new genre for Yuergenshmit. She was having it printed in something called a ‘literary journal’ and would compile a book as more people wrote scary stories. He would get royalties from the sale of the journal. She also talked about how she was excited for their year together at the Royal Academy. He was invited to join the library committee and to visit Hirschur’s lab to see the library based magic tools she was creating. Rozemyne expressed her joy that he would get to see it before it was moved to Alexandria after Hirschur’s retirement. “School labs just have a different feeling that's so much fun,” she wrote. Her letter ended with requests to pass along her well wishes to various people in Ehrenfest and a greeting to the mail handling scholars.

“I'm glad she liked our stories, Nikolaus. She’s going to add yours to a collection for little kids,” Melchior called to Nikolaus who yawned by the door.

“There's another note,” Isolde said.

Underneath everything else was an invitation to the Archduke's Office after breakfast. It didn't elaborate on the reason but said to bring only two retainers; one guard and one attendant. That normally meant a meeting of grave seriousness. Melchior chose Zargerecht and Dedryck. Isolde gave him her diptych in case he was allowed to take notes. The rest of his retinue waited in a side room near the office. Haldis made everyone tea and chatted calmly with one of Wilfred’s attendants.

The entire Archductal family, including Lord Bonifiatus who’d recently re-semi-retired, were present. In addition, Sister Philine was standing near Charlotte. Florencia was the last to arrive.

Charlotte began while Sylvester held his head in his hands. “Sister Philine received a letter from Aub Alexandria for Melchior.”

“Why did Philine get a letter for Melchior?” Wilfred interrupted.

“Answering your question, Lord Wilfred, I sent a story Lord Melchior wrote to offer Lady Rozemyne to Alexandria and received a reply,” Philine said.

“How did you send her a letter?” Sylvester asked.

“I used one of the legal deposit teleportation circles, your Lordship.”

“I thought those only teleported books?” he said.

“They teleport anything bound in book format and marked with a publication crest. Those with administrative circles, of which only Aub Alexandria and her selected scholars have access, may send anything that fits within the dimensions of the magic circle.”

Sylvester was silent for over a minute, his face very grave. No one else spoke. Melchior tried not to fidget.

“I'm trying to decide if this counts as conspiring with another duchy,” Sylvester broke the silence.

“It is concerning that you are in such ready contact with the Aub of another duchy, Sister Philine,” Florencia said.

“And completely unmonitored,” Bonifiatus added.

“I highly doubt that sister would direct Philine to do harm to Ehrenfest,” Charlotte said.

“We just killed people for this didn't we,” Wilfred muttered.

“Philine, tell us why this isn't treason,” Sylvester said.

“I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to speak on my behalf, Aub Ehrenfest.” She touched the pedant dangling before her robes. “My loyalty to Lady Rozemyne is no secret but a fact I wear proudly. You have been aware that I am responsible for the legal deposit circle of the Rozemyne workshop in the temple for years. It functions exactly the same as all the legal deposit circles in Ehrenfest. Would you consider the other heads of printing workshops guilty of treason?” Sylvester gave no reaction. “Those previously found to be colluding with the first wife of another duchy sought to assist an enemy of Ehrenfest. Lady Rozemyne’s heart ever rests here. Never would she make herself the opponent of Ehrenfest nor oppose its Archduke,” she declared. Sylvester sighed. How many people in his duchy, including himself, were forbidden under magical contract from opposing Rozemyne. If she chose to attack Ehrenfest they would lose immediately with or without a spy as their Orphanage Director.

“We will discuss the nature and content of your correspondence with Aub Alexandria at a later time. Your legal deposit circle will be confiscated until this matter is resolved. Rozemyne will just have to wait for her books. You may go.” He sent her out. Karstedt followed to give orders to knights for the investigation then returned.

Charlotte continued. “Sister Philine delivered the letter to the Archduke's office as required for Interdutchy communications. In it, Aub Alexandria refers to the retirement of Professor Hirschur after next term.”

“I didn't know Hirschur was retiring.” Wilfred said.

“Neither did I!” Sylvester wailed. “I sent her a message this morning. Apparently she forgot to tell us.”

“Perhaps this is a good thing. We have the opportunity to select a proper dormitory supervisor,” Bonifiatus said.

“Who are we going to send? We can't spare any scholars right now. We have so few nobles in the Sovereignty as it is. They can't be pulled from their other positions,” Florencia asked. Everyone looked around. The names of a few scholars were offered but ultimately rejected for being too valuable or too likely to embarrass the duchy.

“Does it have to be a scholar?” Melchior asked.

“If we want them to also be a professor, they will need to replace Hirschur.” Charlotte said.

Dedryck took a step forward and knelt down. “If you would forgive a knight for speaking out of turn, Aub Ehrenfest.” His voice quavered.

“Speak.”

“If there are other professors looking to retire, a dormitory supervisor could be preferred over an existing assistant or else be allowed to take over a portion of a professor's classes. We would only need to convince them to recommend our dormitory supervisor as their replacement,” he said as fast as words could leave his mouth.

“Why do they need to be a professor?” Wilfred asked.

“Answer him,” Sylvester commanded.

“Of course. Professors enjoy more freedom and have more opportunities to socialize than dormitory supervisors who aren't professors. Dormitory supervisors who haven't been accepted as Sovereignty nobles aren't allowed to leave their duchy areas without a summons,” Dedryck said.

“Are any knight or attendant professors retiring soon?” Charlotte asked.

“We don't know,” Florencia answered.

“Could any of our nobles be accepted for other positions?”

“We can't be sure but also not on such short notice.”

“Could…” Wilfred began but was cut off by Sylvester.

“We just don't have enough information. We get very little intelligence from the Sovereignty and Hirschur isn't any help. If we can get someone accepted as a professor is a question for after we have more information. We may need to choose someone to oversee the Academy just for this year. If they don't leave soon they’ll never complete the handover from Hirschur.” Sylvester pinched the bridge of his nose.

“There is an archattedant who has been unemployed since she lost her lady. All her sons have left home as well.” Florencia offered. Sylvester looked at her. “She is used to handling difficult children.” He nodded and smiled.

“Melchior, can I borrow Dedryck for a week?” he asked.

“Of course, father,” Melchior said without hesitation. Dedryck caught his eye with a gesture like picking up and putting down Gewinnen pieces. “I think he will need to reorganize my guard knights rotation. Can I send him over after lunch?”

Sylvester tapped the table impatiently. “Yes, that would be alright.” Florencia answered.

“Call your wife,” he barked at Karstedt before sending everyone except Florencia away.

Melchior wasn't sure how much to tell his retainers. Zargerecht said to say nothing until the Archduke informed him it was ok to share the information. It felt strange to say nothing about why Dedryck was leaving for a week. Dedryck seemed to smile more brightly than normal as he organized the guarding schedule for his absence. Melchior could see how having a couple more knights might be useful. He mentioned Gerianne's request

“She hasn't even begun the knights course yet. She wouldn't be useful in this situation,” Dedryck replied.

A Week Without a Knight

Dedryck's absence had one unforeseen consequence. There was no one to protect Lothar from Sigsnyr's unrelenting curiosity. Rather than just following with his eyes, Sigsnyr began trotting along behind him. He was nimble enough not to get in the way but Lothar still felt extremely put-upon. Fonsel made no attempt to intervene largely because he was either guarding outside the chambers or only around when Sigsnyr was otherwise engaged.

On the second temple day, Sigsnyr had a request. He wanted to tour the servant hallways. Of course this was highly inappropriate and Lothar did everything he could think of to dissuade him. Unfortunately, it was an easy request to fulfill. Kirk was tasked with leading their procession while Melchior and his apprentice guards followed. He showed them where the attendants' quarters were and how they connected to the High Bishop's chambers and the guard rooms for men and women. They traveled past the kitchens and gave the chefs heart attacks while Sheila explained their work. Sigsnyr even carried a few pails of water and marveled at how much labor could be saved with magic tools.

“We don't have mana,” Kirk reminded him.

“I will find a way to circumvent that,” Sigsnyr promised.

The tour seemed to mollify Sigsnyr for a time. He went back to just watching the attendants.

Melchior informed Gerianne that he’d recommend her to his parents. She said she'd done the same. They had moved up to performing choreographed sparring sequences in addition to practicing sword forms. Melchior found that he enjoyed using the weights. The only person who didn't like them was Sigsnyr who complained they're strange smell rubbed off on him. Melchior took the opportunity to ask why Sigsnyr always smelled particularly good. He explained his use of herb filled sachets and the exact herbs he used and had used in the past. He learned the technique from a fellow student in the attendant course.

“Why are you taking the attendants course?” Nikolaus asked.

“They use the most magic tools,” he replied as though it were obvious.

“Don't scholars use a lot of magic tools?” Melchior asked.

“Scholars make the most magic tools but they all do the same three things: blow things up, prevent things from blowing you up, or move things from one place to another.” The other two nodded. After a moment, Melchior realized that that described basically every magic tool that attendants used too. Those just moved dirt or water instead of troops or equipment.

Sigsnyr went on to complain that the hardest part of being an attendant was getting trained. You had to train for at least a year before you could be hired to work for anyone even if you passed the attendants course with high marks. You couldn't become an honor student if you weren't in-service to someone. Those that didn't serve Archduke Candidates would find older students or academy staff to serve but no one would hire a knight seemingly just taking the course for fun.

“That sounds disheartening,” Melchior responded. He didn't need more attendants though. He had Pepin and another boy named Kolteruze who Brunhilde had selected to serve him at the Royal Academy. They were younger than Sigsnyr as well, so he wouldn't need to replace them before he graduated. Melchior listed this as one of the problems too complicated to solve right now.

Melchior talked to Lothar about the herb sachets. “I think those could be sourced from an apothecary. Shall I summon one to the temple?”

Melchior brightened. If he summoned Dorrick’s Apothecary, he could see their friend from the forest. Then he remembered how terrified she’d been of nobles and that he'd lied about being one. “I think we could just send Kirk out to one. It isn't a special product and Sigsnyr gave me a list of what to try.”

“You need not create errands for Kirk,” Lothar responded but Kirk already had the list in his hands and a look on his face that said he would carry out his responsibility with exceptional grace and speed. Lothar shook his head in defeat and went to ask Sigsnyr about the exact use and nature of the sachets. He popped a small one out of a pocket to show them. It held the spicy, sweet scent Melchior remembered from riding with him. Kirk would go on his mission while Melchior was at the castle. Melchior found a moment to pull him to the side and instruct him on which apothecary to go to.

Another Gewinnen day was held for Melchior and Wilfred and Wilfred's friends. Without Dedryck, two of his knights had to sit out at once. Sigsnyr sent Nikolaus into the fray. Wilfred chose the matchups and they began playing. Isolde sat in her corner. She was dressed in pastel colors. This combined with her pale hair and skin made her fade a bit into the walls. She also wore a more simple hair style. His opponent wasn't nearly as rude but he also made insinuations about the number and quality of his guard knights. He even noticed that Dedryck was absent and expressed his hope that the knight wasn't ill.

Melchior asked some questions that Isolde had formulated. She wanted to know who all were looking to serve so she told him to ask his partner to talk about his friends. Melchior wasn't sure how the question led to the desired knowledge but he gave it a try. He learned about the various skills of the collected boys and who was related to whom. Isolde also wanted him to ask about the dorms and how people felt about Wilfred graduating.

His seatmate spoke wistfully about the cooperative feeling of the dorms and the ditter matches with Dunkelfelger. He proclaimed that Ehrenfest would win this year and lamented that this might be their last chance to do so. Melchior had heard about the tradition started by Rozemyne and continued by Wilfred to play treasure stealing ditter with Dunkelfelger once a year. They'd only missed their fourth year because Rozemyne was indisposed. Wilfred had challenged Lady Hannalore last year because of some promise he made in their third year reigniting the rivalry. The boy assumed he would call for a rematch.

“You don't think Charlotte will continue the tradition?” Melchior asked.

“I think she might try,” was the reply. He didn’t look as confident in Charlotte’s ability to lead them to victory but was gracious enough not to say it.

Melchior felt like he had a much nicer time. Isolde still told him to skip the information session with Wilfred so he made some excuses and returned directly to his own room. They brought out the sound blocker again. Fonsel was guarding outside.

“I think we have confirmation that these Gewinnen matches were, at least partially, specifically orchestrated to introduce you to potentially guard knights,” Isolde declared. She shared her notes about the various conversations around them. There was a lot of speculation about Dedryck being transferred to the Archduke and more space opening up. Some dumber boys even made stray comments on distancing Nikolaus since he was the son of a criminal.

“Why be so devious about it? Does Wilfred not have confidence in the quality of his friends?” Sigsnyr mused.

“I think he just wants me to get to know them so they won't feel like a stranger when he recommends them officially,” Melchior said.

“If they feel like a friend you won't be able to say no.” Isolde paced gleefully. “What a devious plan indeed.” Melchior didn't like the implication that Wilfred was trying to trick him. Why did they assume Wilfred had such nasty intentions? “I doubt it's Wilfred himself. It's more likely his retainers,” Isolde said.

“I think they don't like Charlotte,” Nikolaus cut in. “I don't know how that's connected though,” he added nervously.

“Why wouldn't they like Charlotte?” Melchior asked.

“No, that makes sense. Why else would they want Isolde out of the room,” Sigsnyr said.

“They said she was distracting,” Nikolaus offered.

Sigsnyr rolled his eyes. “Don't be foolish. A pretty girl is a gift in any room unless that room is full of boys who don't like girls.”

“Don't teach them nonsense,” Isolde chided.

“It's not nonsense. And you don't need to dress like someone's mom because of their stupidity,” he clucked. Isolde looked properly furious for one second then returned to her practiced smile.

“None of that matters at the moment. You shouldn't take on any of them,” Isolde said.

“Why not? Won't Wilfred be upset if I don't accept any of his suggestions?” Melchior asked.

“Let him be upset,” Sigsnyr muttered.

“I don't like them.” Nikolaus said.

“Wilfred is bad at choosing people. If you accept one of his choices, it's more likely to go poorly,” Isolde declared.

“Have you really found no one good?”

Isolde looked sheepish. “It's very hard to get information about them. They don't like to talk to me and they mostly hang out with each other or at the Knights Order.”

“Don't some of them have sisters?” Sigsnyr asked.

“Yes, you're right. I haven't been diligent enough. Just give me a bit more time, Lord Melchior.”

“I'll also try to spend more time at the Knights Order,” Sigsnyr promised.

They ended the meeting with Melchior feeling unhappy and vaguely disquieted. Isolde didn't join them to help in the offices for the rest of his castle days or visit the temple the following week.

The temple, at least, remained an uncomplicated oasis. Kirk had a great deal to say about his excursion. He’d found the apothecary as directed and came back with a couple options.

“They were only one large copper each and the nice man said they last for several months,” he chatted happily while brushing Melchior’s hair. Melchior smelled the various offerings. The shop didn't have the specific scent Sigsnyr used which calmed Sigsnyr's indignation at spending three or four times the amount on his sachets.

Melchior chose one composed of dried flowers and the seeds of a certain fruit. It reminded him of Spring Prayer somehow and the rinsham his mother used.

“Why would you want to smell like your mother?” Fonsel asked.

“I like how she smells,” Melchior replied.

Fonsel shook his head “At least choose something manly and neutral,” he said. When asked what counted as manly though he could only say that flowers were not manly. Melchior was happy with his choice and allowed Kirk and Nikolaus to take their pick of what remained. After Nikolaus chose something grassy and Kirk chose a different floral there were two left for Lothar and Sheila.

“Was that on purpose?” Nikolaus asked. Kirk nodded. “What if Isolde were here?”

“Lady Isolde uses some kind of perfume already,” Kirk replied. Nikolaus couldn't remember ever being close enough to Isolde to notice that.

Sheila and Lothar were presented their packets at the same time and both chose different ones.

Melchior made sure to ask where the shop was. “It was pretty close by.” Kirk explained how to get there from the temple entrance by the orphanage. He’d come across a kid he knew from foraging who’d shown him the way. “It was really nice to see him. It's been a couple years.” The boy was working at a small tailoring shop that mostly catered to visiting merchants and well off craftsmen. “They make some of the soldiers' uniforms,” he added.

Melchior was intrigued. If it were as close as Kirk made it seem, it wouldn't take long to get there. He would even have an opportunity. With Dedryck still assisting the Archduke, Fonsel had made a personnel decision he never would. Melchior’s guard was going to consist of just Sigsnyr and Nikolaus. If he could distract Sigsnyr for about a bell, they could be there and back again in no time.

This time, they involved Kirk from the very beginning.

“I can distract Sigsnyr and help you get dressed but how are you going to get out? All the gates are guarded.”

“We could use the sewers,” Nikolaus said.

Melchior shook his head. “They have locked gates now.”

“Maybe we can go over the wall,” Sigsnyr suggested. They all jumped at his voice. “If you want to plan a clandestine escape you really have to do it outside the range of enhanced hearing.” He wagged his finger at them.

“You won't tell Dedryck we were trying to sneak out, will you?” Nikolaus pleaded. He couldn't believe he was in trouble again and he hadn't even gotten an adventure out of it this time.

Sigsnyr smiled and leaned in. “I'm not the one you need to worry about. Lothar is far more likely to tell on you. I, on the other hand, can be bribed into silence.”

“What do you want?” Melchior asked. He knew better than to offer useless forms of penance without discerning his opponents desires.

“Perhaps a large painting of myself, or a future favor.” He stroked his chin. “Really the only thing worth having is a place in this adventure.”

Nikolaus and Melchior looked at each other. They stood out enough by themselves and they only had two sets of clothes.

“You can't wear the gathering clothes. It's a pretty nice shop, they might throw you out,” Kirk said.

“Then we only have one set of clothes,” Melchior sighed.

“Where did you get a set of commoner clothes?” Nikolaus asked. Melchior pointed at Kirk. Kirk was only slightly larger than Melchior. His clothes would fit him easily. Nikolaus on the other hand was huge while Sigsnyr was tallest of all of them.

“Is that why you told me to get two sets?” Kirk asked.

“No, I thought you might need more than one.”

“I can get clothes appropriate for well off sons of merchants but that's as casual as I go,” Sigsnyr said. “In fact it's good that you're going now while there are still merchants in the city, otherwise you’d have a harder time blending in. You still will to be perfectly honest.”

It was beginning to look like a good idea to include him. Melchior nodded. Their plan was coming together but the problem of escaping the temple unseen still existed.

“Like I was saying, we could fly over the wall. There are a few places out of view of the gates.”

“The commoners will see you,” Kirk noted. Highbeasts were anything but stealthy. Even if they landed discreetly it was impossible to not be spotted.

“Only Melchior needs to sneak out right?” Nikolaus said. They all looked at him. “The High Bishop walking into the lower city would be notable. Two merchants visiting the temple then leaving isn't as notable.”

“Merchants always ride in carriages,” Kirk said.

“Are you sure this is even possible? What was your plan even?” Sigsnyr stood up, breaking the conspiratorial air.

“We didn't have one yet,” Melchior answered.

“I will go scout the perimeter of the temple. Go do your lessons,” Sigsnyr said and swiftly disappeared through the servants exit. Nikolaus and Fonsel went with Melchior to the orphanage with Kirk carrying his harspiel. Fonsel didn't ask where Sigsnyr was and they didn't offer an explanation.

Once they returned to Melchior’s room for lunch, they all attempted to look totally innocent and relaxed. Their planning recommenced after Fonsel finished his lunch and swapped with Nikolaus outside.

“I have found a suitable location to fly over the wall. It's behind the boys building obscured from the back gate and the orphanage by the walls and trees. There's even a handy staircase leading up to the ramparts.”

“Ooh!” “Good work” “Why’s there a staircase?” The boys cheered. They quickly quieted when Lothar re-entered the room.

They didn't have another opportunity to conspire until the next morning. It was the day for helping in the High Priest's office. Melchior made some excuses to send Lothar ahead of everyone and hold Kirk back for a few minutes.

“Even in such a discreet corner. Someone will see three high beasts.” Nikolaus said. He’d taken a post dinner walk around inside of the walls as a pretense to check things out.

“I know. I believe we only need them to get down and back up on the city side. We can't fly too high either or we’ll be visible from the west gate,” Sigsnyr said. They all scratched their heads.

“Can you make your highbeasts really small or invisible?” Kirk asked.

“How would we make them invisible?” Sigsnyr scoffed.

“I don't know. With magic.”

“That's not how magic works.”

Melchior took out his highbeast faestone. He transformed it in his palm into a mini Lion-pandabus and had it float in the air. He wrapped both hands around it and held it over his head. With a little burst of mana it lifted him off the ground while being completely concealed in his hands.

“That really shouldn't work but since it does we can do that,” Sigsnyr declared. He walked around Melchior, observing the floating bishop.

Sheila walked in and started. “Lord Melchior, please do not play with magic tools inside your chambers,” she cried.

Both Sigsnyr and Nikolaus attempted to fly tiny highbeasts around the training yard. Sister Streita was confused by the growing trend but watched for a few minutes instead of telling them to get back to training. Nikolaus struggled to create his wolf on such a small scale while Sigsnyr couldn't figure out a good way to hold on. Gerianne watched with interest. In the end, only the Lion-pandabus with it's lack of wings and infinite size variation could be used. Melchior would just have to fly it up and down for each person. Their plan was set and Melchior was sure it was flawless.

Footnotes

18. Bonifiatus’s house name is Linkburg. So far all of his grandsons (that we know of) have become Archducal guard knights for some amount of time ^

19. A random subordinate of fire to extend the previous metaphor replacing men as an idea with the subordinates of Leidenschaft. He means to imply that Charlotte has pretentious taste in men and is overly ambitious to attempt to marry an AC to preserve the possibility of her becoming Archduch*ess. I mean to imply that his face is very punchable.^

Chapter 10: Dorrick's Apothocary

Chapter Text

The Lower City

The day arrived. Fonsel was taking his day off. Sigsnyr and Nikolaus had the great responsibility to ensure his safety. Melchior tried to seem as though he wasn't too excited for words.

He ate breakfast and made his offering. Then the quartet left his chambers and took a detour on the way to the orphanage. They dipped into an empty laypriest chamber. Kirk pulled out the set of clothes he'd secreted out of his room while Sigsnyr produced two sets of clothes. They were made of fine fabric but boasted only the most minimal embroidery. He and Nikolaus pulled the sleeveless tunics over their normal knight’s shirts and trousers. One was a rich forest green while the other was brown. Melchior had to change from his High Bishop's robes and voluminously sleeved shirt into the simpler one Kirk provided. It was a little too big. Lothar had purposely chosen something Kirk could grow into a bit so it was very obviously too big for Melchior. One could say they didn't look like nobles but they looked plenty wealthy.

“You might get strange looks,” Kirk warned.

“Looks we can handle. So long as no one tries to mug us, I think we’ll be fine,” Sigsnyr said.

“What's mugging?” Melchior asked.

“It's when someone threatens you and tries to take your money. Speaking of…” he fished two pouches out of somewhere. “These are for you. I highly doubt you prepared coin for today's adventure. I expect to be paid back, Nikolaus.”

“Only me?” Nikolaus asked.

“You’ve never given me anything of greater or equivalent value.”

Melchior looked in his pouch. It was made of soft leather and kind of heavy. Inside were 9 large coppers and 10 middle coppers. He looped it into his belt but Kirk stopped him.

“You want it kind of hidden. Use your pockets. Same for your medallion,” Kirk said. He smoothed out some wrinkles.

Once they were disguised and prepared, they made their way through the temple. Sigsnyr suggested using the servants' hallways but Kirk assured him they were even better traveled than the Noble's section. They took a circuitous route around the Orphanage Director’s chambers and came to the stairs without seeing a single gray priest. Kirk left them at the bottom of the stairs and they climbed up into the wall.

They were partially hidden by the battlements and could see out over the many buildings. They ducked a little and moved to the corner where the wall between the Noble's Quarter and the lower city met the wall around the temple. On the lower city side, the corner of the rear gatehouse partially blocked the view. The entrances to shops were on a different side of the building to where they were and the road to the gate was further in. Very few people would pass by and only one person could be seen. It was an older gentleman sitting quietly on some crates. He had a hat over his face and seemed to be napping.

Now that they were looking over the side, the fall looked even more intimidating than they imagined. Still, there was no turning back now. Melchior pulled his highbeast faestone out of his pocket, leaving the medallion behind, and formed the tiny Lion-pandabus. He climbed over the battlements and floated down safely. Holding himself up the entire way was more difficult than he anticipated but the price for letting go was plenty of motivation to push beyond his limits.

Once he caught his breath safely on the ground he sent his highbeast back up. It got most of the way but didn't seem to want to fly all the way to the top. No matter how he coaxed it, it would only fly so far away from him. As he contemplated going back or going alone, Sigsnyr pulled Nikolaus up and held him tightly about the waist. He jumped into the open air. Nikolaus’s face contorted in fear but he managed not to scream. The highbeast dropped under their sudden weight when Sigsnyr caught it with one hand. His other hand continued securing Nikolaus to his side. They floated down. Once on solid ground, Nikolaus fell to his knees.

“Why didn't you warn me,” he gasped.

“You lived,” Sigsnyr replied. Melchior stood in awe of the older boy's strength. He wondered if he used physical enhancement magic to accomplish it. Sigsnyr stretched out his shoulder while giving new warnings “Stay with Nikolaus. Do not go anywhere he isn't and do not leave anywhere he is without him.”

“You aren't staying with us?” Melchior asked, suddenly a bit worried.

“I'll be nearby in case anything goes wrong. You should be able to handle most things just by running back to the temple. If you're in real trouble don't worry about getting caught, worry about staying in one piece. If you manage to get yourself killed, the Archduke will burn down both the temple and the lower city,” he cautioned.

“What!” Melchior squeaked. “Maybe we should go back.” He said and reformed his highbeast.

“Nothing is going to happen. Most likely. But if it does focus on your safety.” Sigsnyr patted both their heads. “Adventures aren't fun without a little risk. Just don't do anything terminal.”

Nikolaus nodded. He stood closer to Melchior as they walked away from their hiding place and slipped through an alley. They came onto the street just in view of the rear gate and hurried toward the central plaza. “We’ll meet back here in one bell. Do not be late. If I have to go find you, I’m telling Dedryck.” Sigsnyr said then walked toward the market stalls.

It was still kind of early in the morning so there weren't as many people. Those they saw were hurrying to work or the forest. They stared in open wonderment. Melchior had seen the grand hall full of nobles but it wasn't the same as seeing so many people going about their own lives. No one was paying him much attention or making veiled insults or wore obviously fake smiles. The younger children smiled at them and he smiled back but they didn't take that as an invitation to get close to him. He was struck with the realization that all these people had their own independent lives completely separate from noble society. They wore a huge variety of clothes of different styles and coats and the sound of wooden shoes made a pleasant rhythm on the ivory streets.

Nikolaus was the first to overcome his daze and poked Melchior. “We need to find that shop right,” he said. They hadn't talked about visiting the girl they met in the forest but Nikolaus wanted to see if she was ok and suspected Melchior did too.

“Yes. Kirk gave me directions. They’re from the rear gate and kind of indirect but they cut through this central plaza. I think this is the central plaza.” He recalled Kirk’s directions being full of bizarre points of interest and cardinal directions. “Which way is North?” he asked.

Nikolaus began to lose faith but pointed toward the temple and followed his lord into the city. They got a little lost but people seemed willing to give them directions. They were all based on the location of seemingly famous businesses or common objects normally left on the street. “When you see the corner with the broom the fabric shop always leaves out, you went too far,” one nice woman said after they disturbed her window polishing. She looked after them with a raised eyebrow but didn't ask any questions.

It turned out they'd kind of passed it on their way to the central plaza. Had they walked a few streets farther south they would have seen it. It had a wooden sign with a picture of a leaf next to a bowl with a stick in it. Someone giving directions called it a mortar and pestle. It also had a small plaque just next to the door with the name of the shop written out. It was the only shop they’d seen with such a thing so far.

The plaque made for great confirmation which made it all the more disappointing that the shop was closed. “This is terrible. Do you think something happened?” Melchior fussed. Nikolaus shook his head. Most of the shops they passed were closed.

“It's just early.”

“When do you think they open? What if we run out of time?” How could Nikolaus answer this question? They waited for a bit. A few more shops began putting out signs and cleaning their front spaces. A few bedraggled apprentices rush into work. Eventually, third bell rang. They'd split with Sigsnyr in the middle of second bell. Nikolaus grew a bit antsy. If they spent too long waiting they wouldn't make it back to the square. As they began to consider giving up, the door opened and a girl in a green dress and white apron maneuvered a sign onto the street. It had pictures of herbs with prices next to them. It looks very solid and just a little too heavy for the person carrying it.

Once it was in place the girl placed her hands on her hips and smiled triumphantly. Then she looked up and saw the richly dressed young man and his less richly dressed companion. Recognition dawned on all their faces.

“It's you!” she said and walked over. Melchior wasn't sure whether he should kneel in greeting since he was the guest and was pretending to be another commoner. “I didn't expect you to visit but I'm glad you did.” She took their hands and pulled them into the store before either could invoke Dregarnuhr.

Another identically dressed girl removed some wooden boards from the windows, lighting up the room. Their friend sat them down on a bench near the entrance and continued doing her tasks. The shop had a small waiting area and a tall counter. Behind this counter were ceiling high shelves filled with jars and baskets. To one side was a cabinet with dozens of small drawers all labeled with tiny plaques. Melchior kicked his feet idly.

“Who are these customers, so early in the morning, Violet?” asked the other girl. She seemed older than Violet by a couple years.

“These are the friends I met in the forest. I promised them tea for helping us.” Melchior just smiled.

“They're just as cute as you said,” she teased. Melchior maintained his smile despite himself while Nikolaus went red around the ears. “I’m Kari. Nice to meet’cha. What brings you to Ehrenfest?”

“We're from Ehrenfest?” Melchior responded. His last name was Ehrenfest even. Kari looked doubtful. They looked like very wealthy merchants, like the ones who came from far away places like Klassenberg. The small one looked like the assistant but didn't seem to be serving the tall one. If they were wealthy merchants' sons from Ehrenfest they wouldn't be out in the forest in rags or outside a shop, long before shops open, waiting around like lost children.

“We're from the temple. I’m Nik and this is Mel,” Nikolaus said. Kari looked scared for a moment.

“Are you nobles?” They shook their heads.

“Do you work with Kirk?” another identically dressed girl appeared. She looked delighted to be speaking about the gray apprentice.

“Yes. How did you know?” Melchior asked.

“You're wearing the same clothes. Is that your uniform?”

“You remember his clothes?” Kari overcame her fear to tease.

The girl blushed and held her hands to her cheeks. “He was so polite and well dressed and spent so much money on such an uncommon thing. How could I forget?”

The mention of uniforms seemed to draw more attention to Nikolaus. His clothes were both different and more expensive. Kari considered that he might be the one in charge.

Violet returned from the back with a small cloth bundle. A boy about her age and dressed in a green tunic and white apron followed her in.

“Why is everyone standing around instead of helping the customers?” he growled.

“They came to visit Violet,” Kari said. “She promised them tea,” she added in a singsong voice. The boy frowned and looked at their guests. Nikolaus just looked back but Melchior gave him a radiant smile in return. He blushed.

“What kind of tea were you looking for?” he asked.

“I have it right here.” Violet held out the bundle. Nikolaus took it. The girls watched in awe as he gracefully unwrapped the coarse cloth, its corners falling away like liquid, revealing three dried chrysanthemums like precious jewels. They’d been dried and pressed into little blooming buds. He inspected them then placed the bundle in Melchior hands. Melchior gazed at them happily.

“Thank you ever so much. I look forward to enjoying your generous gift,” he said and slipped them into his pocket. Kari felt more certain these boys weren't commoners. Kirk had seemed special in his own way but Nik had an aura of much greater sophistication. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

Everyone looked at Violet. She was known to be a little sickly but only to her close friends and family. What had she told these strangers?

“Yes. I feel much better. I think it will be a long time before I feel so poorly again,” she said.

The door opened. A neatly dressed woman entered and walked straight to the counter. She glanced at the boys twice but was polite enough not to stare. She ordered a small variety of things which sent the apprentices busily fluttering about the store. After collecting her things, she left with a last look at Nikolaus.

“I think we should get going. We don't want to be late,” Nikolaus whispered.

“Is there anything else we can help you with?” asked the boy. They stood and approached the counter. Melchior read some of the labels but settled on just asking for more of the sachets he enjoyed. He wasn't sure how many he needed but settled on three. Two for the temple and two for the castle. He didn't plan on keeping one on his person like Sigsnyr. He also asked about the tea.

“Each flower costs 3 middle coppers if you buy the ones dried normally. The blooming kind are one large copper. The process for making them is delicate but the visual experience of watching them bloom is worth it,” said the young apothecary in a practiced voice. As Melchior hadn't tasted the tea yet and wanted to save his precious spoils he chose to buy two normal flowers as well. Nikolaus didn't purchase anything. He wasn't sure how he would pay back Sigsnyr if he did. He had the small silver but would have to ask his attendants to withdraw ready coinage from his account. He wanted to save the pay from his stories for an emergency.

Violet walked them out of the store. Melchior leaned in to whisper, “When you start feeling sick again come visit the temple.”

“The temple has nobles. What if they kill me or take me away?” she asked.

“Can you write?” Nikolaus asked. She nodded.

“Send a note addressed to Kirk. He’ll talk to the High Bishop for you. Don't let it get so bad next time,” Nikolaus said.

Melchior smiled “Dregarnuhr has woven today's threads with exceptional…” Nikolaus cut him off with a light elbow to the side. “I mean. I hope you are well. I’ll try to visit again,” he said haltingly. She giggled and promised to introduce him to new teas. They waved goodbye and made their way back toward the central plaza.

In light of their previous meandering, Nikolaus took the lead this time. He had a good sense for direction and led them out to a main road then quickly to the central plaza. They found Sigsnyr sitting by the fountain next to a basket of fruit and cloth. He was eating one of the fruits and chatting with a group of girls in expensive clothes. He seemed to be regaling them with a story about his “lord” hunting shumils poorly complete with wild gesturing. His actual Lord and fellow guard knight approached quietly from the other side of the plaza.

“It seems it's time for me to leave. Thank you for listening to my story.” The girls complained that he'd stopped just before the exciting part and made him promise to finish it the next time he was free. He also received an invitation to shop at the trading company where one of the girls worked if he ever needed fine leather goods.

Sigsnyr picked up his basket and turned to meet the other two. He reached them just as they came to the other side of the fountain.

“How did you know we were here?” Melchior asked.

“Mana sensing,” he replied and began leading them back to their escape point.

“Mana sensing? You can sense our mana from that far away?”

“No. I can sense Nikolaus’s mana from that far away if I'm looking for it.”

“Why only Nikolaus?”

“You should ask your parents,” Nikolaus said quickly. He was blushing once again. Sigsnyr narrowed his eyes at him but didn't elaborate. The city was more awake as they hurried back toward the temple. Their launching spot was more lively this time. It was still pretty out of the way but next to the shabbily dressed dock workers they stood out.

“You should make your highbeast just a bit bigger. Big enough to be seen.” Sigsnyr said. Melchior glanced around. When he felt like no one was really watching he formed a highbeast about the size of a melon. Nikolaus noticed the workers actively looking away. Some even disappeared into alleys. “Great, now hold on to me. Hold on tight or you’ll fall to your death.” He put the handle of the basket in his mouth then held the highbeast over his head. Melchior and Nikolaus wrapped their arms around his waist and held on with all their strength. Sigsnyr grunted but couldn't say anything so he just nodded to Melchior who asked his Lion-pandabus to fly them up. They dipped into the air and over the wall disappearing from the street.

Kirk waited at the bottom of the stairs with another gray priest. They both looked relieved as they stopped mid conversation to kneel.

“Oh no. What happened! We were so careful this time,” Melchior groaned.

“Nothing has yet occurred, High Bishop. Trude sent me to ask your attendants if you were coming for harspiel practice. Some of the orphans saw you and Kirk go this way and told me to check here first so as not to alert Lothar or Sister Philine as to your absence. I have only just come to speak with Kirk,” the gray priest said.

“If you thought I was sneaking around, why didn't you go straight to Lothar or Fonsel?” Melchior asked.

“Answering you, High Bishop. If you wish to perform activities without informing your retainers it is beyond this priest's authority to inform them against your wishes.” Melchior looked around at his co conspirators. Had they been sneaking about for nothing? Would the gate guards really not alert anyone.

“Is that true for all the gray clergy? You aren't obligated to inform the High Priest or Sister Philine?”

“You are the highest authority in the temple, High Bishop.”

He didn't feel like the highest authority. He had to listen to nearly everyone else. While he appreciated their advice and could generally understand that they were right, it was stifling to be watched so closely and defended so well. He wondered if it was because Rozemyne had so often been in danger.

“If you order them to keep silent they have to listen to you,” Sigsnyr said and stroked his chin. “That makes sense since they have to obey all nobles.”

“We could have left through the gate,” Nikolaus whimpered. He’d endangered his life for nothing.

Kirk spoke up from his kneeling position. “Lord Melchior, would you like to provide an answer concerning your harspiel practice? If you wish to attend we must get you changed forthwith.”

Melchior realized they were just standing around burning their precious sneaking time. They raced back through the temple, taking the gray priest with them, to the stash of their clothes. He assisted Nikolaus in getting back into his vestments while Kirk dressed Melchior. Sigsnyr pulled off his tunic and carefully folded it then reformed his faestone light armor. Once they were presentable they sent Kirk to retrieve his harspiel. Lothar briefly chastised him for forgetting it in the first place. Kirk resolved to create a better cover the next time.

He visited his hidden room briefly before lunch and stashed his tea. He gave one fancy bud each to Sigsnyr and Nikolaus and a normal flower to Kirk along with the sachets. “We can enjoy mine together,” he promised. Kirk added two of the sachets to Melchior's things destined for the castle and added the second to another place in his closet.

Selecting a New Knight

The exhilaration of visiting the lower city carried him through several days of castle life. Dedryck also returned looking tired but satisfied. He couldn't talk about his work for the Archduke but referred to it as a solemn duty he was proud to be entrusted with. Melchior tried to capture his auster sincerity in charcoal.

Now that he knew how expensive his habit was, he was looking for ways to save paper without quitting art altogether. His first tactic was to draw a lot of little pictures then do larger pieces of just the ones he liked. He produced sheets neatly covered on both sides with over a dozen drawings. This was the main way he drew Charlotte’s hair pins. At some point Brunhilde and Florencia also sent him some to study. He created more new designs which he separated into those he was happy with and those he didn't want people to see and stored the latter in his hidden room. He allowed Isolde to share the other designs around the castle and to her friends.

His second solution was to do more paintings. Painting was more time consuming and used cloth or wood instead of paper. Because each piece took so long, he could spend just as much time making art without consuming as many materials.

As a sort of continuation of his plant memorials he continued drawing the plants from his temple chambers. Kirk’s and his efforts, combined with Isolde's notes, were allowing more plants to survive. A small collection was forming as new plants were gifted before the old ones died. Sheila was able to identify a few varieties from her time foraging. Kirk was forced to admit that he'd spent most of his time working on paper so he could chat with his friends. There was one plant whose name had been on a jar in the apothecary. Its leaves were also drawn on the sign so he figured it was rather important even if he had no idea what it did.

He was also finally able to show Dedryck his completed collection of sword forms. The knight was properly ecstatic and insisted Melchior show the work to Sister Streita. He was so impatient that he flew them to the temple himself that night before bed.

Dedryck was less excited about the guarding shifts Fonsel had arranged. He didn't feel that Nikolaus was enough of a knight yet to fill a space on his own. He commended the apprentices for doing good work but got into a brief argument with Fonsel. It turned out that Fonsel's wife was pregnant and he had to be home to support her regularly. Dedryck seemed to think this counted as placing personal concerns over Melchior's safety. They weren't able to come to an agreement but Haldis got them to stop fighting by pointing out that Fonsel's voice was carrying out of the retainers room. The boys put on a perfect performance of pretending to have heard nothing.

Isolde returned from her assignment with tons of information and some bonus ideas for his spring wardrobe. Talking to the sisters and other female relatives of the Gewinnen knights had proved fruitful. It also proved that none of them were safe to admit into his circle.

“There seems to be a contingent of mostly boys and men who oppose an Archduch*ess. They feel that a perfectly suitable male heir exists and should be prioritized over a woman. If they could they would support Wilfred but as Lady Veronica’s favorite grandson and with the Ivory Tower incident on his record he can never be Aub. Neither the Leisegangs nor the New Ehrenfest factions will choose him over Charlotte. Lady Florencia and Lady Elvira’s faction will support any of Lady Florencia's children but show slight favoritism for Charlotte as she socializes with them on occasion. The Old Zausengas nobles have thus far chosen to support the Aub and will go along with his decision. .

“Lady Veronica's die-hard supporters will support Wilfred but their power was so diminished by the purge that their support is insufficient to overcome his shortcomings. Lady Veronica is also getting on in years. Her namesworn likely won't have the ability to support anyone within the next few years.” She paused for emphasis. “You can take advantage of all Charlotte's strengths and have none of Wilfred’s weaknesses,” she declared.

“Plus Charlotte isn't completely opposed to ceding the seat to you,” Sigsnyr added.

“How do you know that?” Isolde cried. She flipped through her notes.

“She muttered something about quitting knight training and letting Melchior protect the foundation during an exercise session at the Knights Order,” he replied.

“You can't take nonsense spewed in frustration as political intention.” Isolde rolled her eyes and continued her speech. “If you want to have an honest battle for the seat we will support you but Wilfred's ‘friends’ seem to be of the opinion that Charlotte should be demoted to an archnoble for some reason. It would make some sense if they wanted her to move to the Sovereignty, but they seem to believe she should stay in Ehrenfest and marry into an existing house. It's a truly baffling take.”

“That would make her lower status than Wilfred,” Nikolaus noted. Both Isolde and Sigsnyr grew wide-eyed.

“Bless Mestinora, you’ve said something worth saying,” Sigsnyr said.

“Why would they want to make Charlotte lower status? What's wrong with having an Archduch*ess?” Melchior asked. He didn't want to believe their accusations against his brother but he also couldn't deny Isolde's careful information gathering. “Wilfred loves Charlotte.”

“Wilfred might love Charlotte but he's too trusting. It makes him easy to manipulate,” Isolde said.

“Aren't I more trusting than Wilfred?” They all nodded.

“It's alright though. You have better retainers,” Sigsnyr consoled him. Melchior wasn't sure whether to trust this or not. If it was bad to be trusting then should he be more careful?

“Yes, you have Isolde to be suspicious of everyone for you,” Haldis added. He was moving in and out of the room preparing something. Dedryck took this opportunity to speak up too.

“It's obvious who the Aub trusts more between the two. He passed important work to Charlotte while distracting Wilfred with busy work at the Knights Order. Wilfred expects to become the Knight Commander, but I don't think he has what it takes. He won't be a bad choice but he won't be Lord Ferdinand or Lord Bonifiatus.”

“I think Wilfred's a great knight,” Melchior said.

No one responded. He looked at his retainers. Haldis smiled on his way between tasks but no one else would meet his eyes.

“I’ve said all that to say this: it is my recommendation that you stop attending the Gewinnen tournament and not take any of the boys there as guard knights. Unless you want to absorb them into a support base to become Aub. Even then you should be cautious.” Isolde handed over her notes. Sigsnyr picked them up.

Melchior sat and thought. He wanted to support his sister. He didn't want to be the Archduke. He didn't want to believe that his brother or his brother’s retainers were planning a devious scheme to demote Charlotte either. Did he have to believe that to take Isolde’s advice? He hadn't had a good experience with the boys so far. Couldn't he make the excuse that they were mean to his retainers and he didn't enjoy playing with them? That was true and it relied only on his own knowledge.

“We won't go to Gewinnen anymore. I will think of an excuse for Wilfred,” he declared. Isolde beamed. Nikolaus looked at him thoughtfully. Sigsnyr started talking about the ideas for his spring wardrobe.

His fitting was held before the Harvest Festival. It was a parade of boring blue and black with some small ochre accents for variety. Wilfred's uniforms seemed to fit well enough. All the piping and soutache had been replaced with light blue. Melchior also hadn't grown very much. He was only getting two winter tunics; one for the Feast Celebrating Winter and another for the Feast Celebrating Spring. He felt awful knowing he would outgrow them and have to buy new ones now that he knew just how expensive his clothing was. He got new shoes as well. They took new measurements of his feet to prepare another set for spring.

The spring wools were equally blue if a bit thinner. He wondered if his mother even received his retainers recommendations. Maybe they would have to change tactics or he could take over his own ordering. Zargerecht and Haldis knew how to order clothes and he could argue it was time to find his own tailors to support. He was ten now and thus not quite a child anymore.

His mother noticed his dour mood and chastised him for being too emotional. Then she tried to cheer him up by reminding that his father would be brewing the registration brooches soon. If he wanted something special he should submit his designs. This did perk up his mood. Haldis produced paper and a pen for him to doodle for the rest of the session.

With the Harvest Festival drawing near, he took some time to practice flying the Lion-pandabus. His guards followed him for an entire bell of flying in circles around the castle. The more he drove the utility-beast the less mentally draining it felt. Landing was still a hair-raising endeavor. He also would have preferred to have Nikolaus as he passenger but Dedryck insisted on someone with a schtappe for these early journeys. Fonsel didn't seem to trust the abomination while Dedryck had to be more mobile than anyone. This meant Sigsnyr was the only real option. Melchior’s lack of knights was beginning to make him rethink discounting all of Wilfred's friends.

It was unfortunate that the next knight he acquired was his own age. Gerianne’s parents were finally summoned to the castle. Sylvester and Florencia talked to Melchior about this potential new knight. Melchior repeated the selling points Gerianne had told him and added that she was kind to her attendants.

“How good a knight she is and what political advantage there is to hiring her is more important than how she treats her attendants,” Florencia counseled.

“Gerianne is a blue shrine maiden. Doesn't that mean she’s abandoned politics?” he asked.

“Her parents haven't abandoned politics, not to mention that they are criminals. You already have Nikolaus. Why should we accept another one?” Sylvester prodded.

“Nikolaus is an excellent knight and very devoted. He wasn't even baptized when his mother committed those crimes.”

“I know Rozemyne likes to say that children shouldn't be held responsible for their parents' crimes but that isn't how society works. All people will see is that you’ve hired three children of criminals.” Sylvester said.

Melchior felt like he should have asked Isolde for advice before the meeting. He glanced at her, hoping to magically glean some insights. She stepped forward.

“You have something to add?” Florencia questioned. Isolde nodded.

“Speak,” Sylvester said.

“Aub Ehrenfest, Lady Florencia, Lord Melchior wishes to support Lady Charlotte as a vassal. Making a few poor decisions about his retinue would deter some nobles calls for him to be made heir. As being the daughter of mednobles who committed minor financial crimes at the behest of the former First Wife is Lady Gerianne’s only failing as a knight, she is an ideal choice to encourage stability without compromising Lord Melchior's safety.” She bowed and stepped back. Melchior couldn't help but smile. He never felt like he was making good use of Isolde's talents but he couldn't deny that she was working hard to help.

His father sighed. “You have just as much right to pursue the seat of Aub as your siblings,” he intoned. It was what he had to say but he couldn't help but be relieved that his children weren't planning a heated battle to become Archduke.

“I am aware, father. I want to be like uncle and granduncle and support Ehrenfest like only the Brother of the Aub can,” Melchior declared.

“Your uncle's had brothers, Melchior. You have a stronger claim to the seat than they did,” Florencia said.

“My brother and uncle aside. You don't need to take female guard knights.”

Melchior tipped his head. “Is it a problem to have female guard knights?”

“Not a problem, per say, but you’ll have to replace them very soon after they come of age. Women retire to have children after getting married,” Sylvester said. “Women need female guard knights who can follow them to places men can't.”

“I have male knights too,” Melchior assured them. They could follow him where his female knight's couldn't. “I can replace my female knight's if they get married. Gerianne won't get married for a long time though maybe not ever if she stays a blue shrine maiden.”

“She’ll have too much mana to not get married,” Sylvester said.

“I think we need to come to a decision,” Florencia noted. “I agree that Gerianne would make a perfectly good guard knight under Dame Streita's training. Lord Bonifiatus speaks well of her potential as well.”

Sylvester rested his head on his templed fingers. He looked at Melchior then at his guard knights. Fonsel shook his head while Dedryck nodded. He looked into Melchior's hopeful eyes.

“Call them in,” he ordered.

Gerianne's parents didn't share her white hair but her father had the same lilac eyes. They greeted the Archductal couple and Melchior then were invited to sit. Gerianne wore her temple robes.

“My son has made a request to make Gerianne one of his guard knights. I am prepared to grant his request. I’ve called you here to discuss this matter,” Sylvester began.

“Aub Ehrenfest, we thank you and Lord Melchior ever so much for your generous notice of our daughter's talents. We would be honored to allow her to serve your son. However we have a few questions about the nature of her work going forward.” They proceeded to ask about the working hours and conditions, the pay, the uniform requirements, what expenses her service would accrue, how much of those expenses her house was expected to cover, and how likely it was that she would have to die to protect her charge. Lord Karstedt answered most of their questions while the Archductal family attempted not to look stunned. Gerianne had requested this herself yet hadn't communicated this information to her parents? Sylvester looked at Melchior. Melchior tried to communicate with his eyes that he was sure she understood what being a guard knight entailed and wanted to work for him. He looked at Florencia who smiled calmly in her usual manner.

“Do you have any more questions?” Sylvester sighed. He was beginning to wonder if they weren't trying to get him to call off the whole affair.

“We just want to be sure our precious daughter will be able to fulfill this heavy duty,” Gerianne’s father said. He was about to launch into a new interrogation but Gerianne placed a hand on his arm.

“Father, I want to serve Lord Melchior,” she said. Her parents looked surprised.

“You should have said that from the start,” her mother said. She turned back to the Archduke, “Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for accepting our daughter as a guard knight for Lord Melchior. We will ensure she discharges her duty with utmost excellence and grace,” she said and both parents bowed.

Sylvester looked back and forth between the family members in shock. They all wore similar smiles with Gerianne looking particularly pleading. Only moments before, they behaved as though the Archduke were trying to steal away their little girl. The girl in question sat confidently between her parents. She was still a tiny girl of ten but looked very motivated. Her parents had been very loyal to his mother. If they weren't, they likely wouldn't have committed any crimes at all. But, As the sole knight from a family of scholars, it was possible she’d be terrible at her job. Then again, she was already at the temple. Her failure could do nothing more to ruin her should it occur. “We will give you a try,” he decided.

Florencia nodded as well. The distancing of the Veronica Faction had greatly reduced the pool of available nobles. Rehabilitating some families would speed up the process of rebuilding the noble population. Those in service to Veronica rather than Georgia hadn't done much more than what any noble might do in their position. Now that that awful woman couldn't influence her faction, it would be good to test them.

Gerianne stood, crossed her arms over her chest, and knelt before Melchior “ My Lord, may the Goddess of Light witness my oath, I shall serve you to my utmost. You may rest assured in my care. My guard shall exceed even that of Ewigeliebe the God of Life over Geduldh the Goddess of Earth. No Goddess of Water shall wash away my diligence. So long as Dauerleben graces me to endure you shall be ensconced in the pristine snow of my protection,” she swore. There was silence again.

“I shall be in your care,” Melchior eventually managed to eek out.

The whole family left with genuine smiles. The Archductal family was left with confused hearts. The meeting had turned so suddenly and concluded so quickly they were reeling from shock. If she felt so passionate about serving Melchior, why hadn't she told her parents before coming? And if all they needed was an assurance that she wanted to serve, why hadn't her parents asked? It was a mystery but Melchior had a new apprentice knight so things could be said to have worked out.