Coronations and the inductions of new aubs were normally held during the Archduke Conference, meaning minors could not attend, but today’s ceremony was entirely unprecedented. A divine avatar was going to transfer the Grutrissheit to a new Zent. The importance of religious ceremonies was also being revisited, and every baptized child was allowed to participate as part of a wider plan to dismantle noble society’s aversion to the temple.
“There are fewer children who have yet to enroll at the Royal Academy here than I expected...” I mused aloud, inspecting as much of the auditorium as I could from the seats for Dunkelfelger’s archducal family. My timing with these matters was always so poor that I had given up on being able to attend, but Lady Rozemyne, the Divine Avatar of Mestionora, had gone out of her way to invite me during a meeting with royalty.
My timing must not be quite so poor anymore.
I gripped the charm that my attendant Cordula had made for me and prayed to Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time. It was surely by her guidance that I had come into such good fortune.
My brother, Lestilaut, sneered. “That should go without saying. Few aubs would want a newly baptized child to attend an event with the royal family.” He looked down at the daughter of our duchy’s second wife. “Even we had to hold a lengthy debate about who was safe to bring.”
Father’s second wife had two baptized children. We had brought Lungtase but ultimately decided to leave her elder brother, Raufereg, at home. The last thing we wanted to do was cause any disrespect.
Lestilaut had obstinately declared that, as our next aub, it was his duty to attend the ceremony and strengthen his connections with both the new Zent and the divine avatar, ultimately forcing both Uncle and Grandfather to stay behind. Of course, he had only taken that stance upon hearing from our parents that Lady Eglantine and Lady Rozemyne would perform a dedication whirl, so his true intentions were clear to us all. Mother had made him promise not to bring any art utensils to the ceremony and even went as far as to check his belongings several times over this morning.
Even the adult heirs apparent are in a state. Few aubs would choose to bring their children.
“Still,” Lestilaut continued, “Ehrenfest brought one. I guess it was their idea to begin with. Look at him wearing his High Bishop robes. He sticks out like a sore thumb.” He was referring to Lord Melchior, a young archduke candidate.
“Lord Melchior was assigned to take Lady Rozemyne’s place as the High Bishop,” I said. We had met once before during the victory feast in Ehrenfest, and the proud smile he had worn while expressing his desire to follow in his sister’s footsteps reinforced the notion that Lady Rozemyne had not been sent to the temple as an act of abuse by her adoptive father, Aub Ehrenfest; it really was normal in Ehrenfest for archduke candidates to serve in the temple.
“Hmph. So they brought their High Bishop along as part of their plan to reinforce the importance of the temple and religious ceremonies, did they?” Lestilaut said venomously. “He must be destined to become the next Aub Ehrenfest. I do not see why Wilfried is grinning without a care in the world when both his future and fiancée have been stolen from him.”
“You say that his fiancée was stolen, but Ehrenfest internally canceled their engagement long ago so that Lady Rozemyne could be adopted by the king and marry the next Zent.” We had learned during our victory feast that the cancellation had resulted from an agreement between Aub Ehrenfest and the Zent, meaning there was nothing Lord Wilfried could have done to prevent it.
“Furthermore,” I said, “High Bishops in Ehrenfest do not necessarily become aubs. As we have seen, Lady Rozemyne held the role before, but Lord Wilfried was positioned to be the next archduke.”
Back when my brother had demanded a game of bride-stealing ditter, Lord Wilfried had declared that he would participate as Ehrenfest’s next aub. He had won and protected Lady Rozemyne, so I doubted the cancellation of an engagement outside of his control would be grounds enough to disqualify him from the role.
“He is a good-for-nothing nonetheless,” Lestilaut spat. “He said all that about keeping Rozemyne safe, but the royal family still took her exactly as I warned during our match.”
That much was true. Despite her engagement, Lady Rozemyne had not been protected when it mattered most. It was hard to deny that the royal family had interfered in the ditter match specifically to obtain her for themselves.
“I do not disagree with you, Brother, but Lady Rozemyne was never a suitable candidate to become the first wife of Dunkelfelger. She is not one to take the reins; rather, she needs someone to keep her under control.”
Unfortunately for Lestilaut, I doubted he was the man for the job. My reasoning was hard to put into words, but Lady Rozemyne’s way of thinking was entirely unique. I recalled what she had so eagerly described while ordering my hairpin, then shook my head to dispel the thought. Only someone with a wealth of experience in a supportive role could take Lady Rozemyne’s hand. The position could never have gone to my brother, who had instead been raised to stand above others.
“And you think that ‘someone’ is Ferdinand?” Lestilaut asked.
“Indeed,” I said. “I could sense it while I was in Ehrenfest, so I am relieved to hear he is going to marry her.”
According to my parents—and much to my surprise—Lord Ferdinand would apparently have become Lady Rozemyne’s fiancé whether we had intervened or not. He had been ordered by King Trauerqual to wed the inexperienced next Aub Ahrensbach, to assist her with her administration, and, once they were married, to adopt Lady Letizia so he could raise her into the next aub. That was why he had moved to Ahrensbach and played such a crucial role in its maintenance despite not even being engaged.
As it turned out, Detlinde had not dyed her duchy’s foundation—a most unusual development, considering her obsession with being an aub. Instead, she had gotten her sister Alstede, an archnoble by marriage, to dye the foundation in her stead.
Alstede was a married woman. Her husband, Blasius, had been reduced to the rank of an archnoble as a result of the civil war, but as a former archduke candidate, he could oversee administrative work without issue. If only Alstede had been formally recognized as the next Aub Ahrensbach, the royal decree given to Lord Ferdinand would have been voided without issue.
However, Lady Rozemyne had stolen Ahrensbach’s foundation before Alstede could be recognized as the aub. She was an underage female aub with very little experience, so the royal decree had remained active. I felt a touch foolish for having devoted so much of my attention to getting her and Lord Ferdinand together.