It had not been too long ago that Father had informed me of the suitors he had chosen for me. As well as being my brother’s retainers, Kenntrips and Rasantark were my childhood friends and family. I knew them well, but the sudden announcement had rendered me uncertain about how to interact with them.
I placed a hand on my cheek, hoping my smile had not been unnatural in some way. The gesture prompted Mother to step forward.
“Hannelore—for as long as you are on the Academy’s grounds, take great care to act in a manner befitting an archduke candidate of the country’s top-ranking duchy.”
“Yes, Mother.”
The rise of a Zent with the Grutrissheit had resulted in the reformation of several previously deposed duchies and enormous changes to the duchy rankings during the last Archduke Conference. We were bound to feel the impact at the Royal Academy as well.
“Blumenfeld and Korinthsdaum are expected to hold their current ranks for only a single year before the former royals’ status loses relevance, but some students will get carried away nonetheless,” Father began. “Only the Zent couple and Dunkelfelger the First will possess the authority to chastise those who let their newfound power get to their heads. For that reason, you must never forget your pride as the Zent’s sword, and...”
Mustn’t I...? Because I really rather would.
A quiet sigh escaped me as I stopped paying attention to whatever lecture Father was giving me. Being an archduke candidate of Dunkelfelger was already an enormous and exceptionally unpleasant burden, and something told me it was about to get a hundred times worse. The formation of new duchies, the changes to the Royal Academy’s curriculum, the reveal of shocking truths about the temples and their bibles during the Archduke Conference, and more would make gathering intel from other duchies an unbearable mess.
For once, I actually bemoaned the fact that my brother had graduated.
“It astounds me that such sweeping revolutions would come about when I, not my brother, must serve as Dunkelfelger’s representative,” I said. “Is it not cruel that my timing is this unfathomably poor?”
“I won’t deny that your timing is tragic, but what right do you have to complain?” Lestilaut shot back with a grin. There was an unmistakable glint in his red eyes. “You made your burden all the worse by showing up to the Archduke Conference’s inauguration ceremony. Mother warned you not to go, remember?”
I cast my eyes down. He was right. It had never even crossed my mind that simply attending an inauguration ceremony would attract so much attention. Mother had not wanted me to go—she had said the Archduke Conference was no place for a minor, invitation or no—but I refused to budge. Nothing would stop me from seeing Lady Rozemyne’s inauguration with my own eyes.
“Well, Lady Rozemyne kept her promise and invited me...” I muttered. “Refusing her was out of the question.”
Lady Rozemyne had looked stunning during the ceremony. The feystone necklace given to her by her fiancé, Lord Ferdinand, had sparkled wonderfully against her chest. Each had worn colors that accentuated the other’s hair, making it clear at a glance how close they were. I was glad from the bottom of my heart to have seen the smiles of unwavering trust they gave one another.
My nostalgic daydreaming must have spread to Lestilaut as well. “That certainly was a once-in-a-lifetime ceremony...” he mused aloud. “Lady Rozemyne’s hair was down, as she had yet to come of age, and the skirt she wore went only to her shins... Minors aren’t usually allowed at the Archduke Conference, but there we saw the birth of an underage aub.”
A voice had cried out during the ceremony that there was no precedent of anyone underage becoming an aub, to which Lady Rozemyne had declared that she was the precedent. Zent Eglantine had then spoken in her favor, insisting that she had only been able to become an aub at all because noble society had pushed for the age of schtappe acquisition to be reduced. Nobody had protested after that.
“Brother, the splendorous blessing that Lady Rozemyne gave us all once she had been recognized as an aub overwhelmed you so severely that you were unable to stay calm for the entirety of the Starbind Ceremony.” I shot Lestilaut a glare. “You have even more artwork of Lady Rozemyne and Zent Eglantine in your chambers, no? As I understand it, Eineliebe is none too pleased.”
Eineliebe and my brother had married on the same day as Lady Rozemyne’s inauguration. Zent Eglantine had performed the ceremony as the Sovereign High Bishop. She really had looked beautiful, but I could understand why Eineliebe took issue with her new husband ceaselessly drawing other women.
Lestilaut grimaced and told me to keep my nose where it belonged, but his business was very much mine. This was a matter of grave importance.
“You should worry about your own situation, not Eineliebe’s,” he added. “Attending the ceremony has cost you greatly.”
“Ngh... Curiosity alone was a poor reason to go. That, I admit, is one of my regrets.”
Although I had only attended the inauguration and the Starbind Ceremonies held in the morning, being the only minor invited to observe the Archduke Conference had caused the entire noble populace to mark me as an especially close friend of Lady Rozemyne. They were entirely correct, of course—we had spent years together as members of the Academy’s Library Committee, researched religious ceremonies together, invaded Ahrensbach and fought Lanzenave together, celebrated together, arranged to have matching hairpins together...
“I am overjoyed that Lady Rozemyne considers me her friend, but...”
I ended my sentence there—I thought the rest went without saying—but Lestilaut elected to chime in anyway. “There is much to gain from being Lady Rozemyne’s friend, but trouble follows her wherever she goes.”
Indeed, the problems that went hand in hand with Lady Rozemyne’s friendship had been looming over me since the conference.
“Especially now that she has more sway over the Zent than anybody else,” Lestilaut continued.
Father nodded gravely. “Indeed. On many occasions throughout the conference, Zent Eglantine openly consulted Lady Rozemyne rather than her home duchy of Klassenberg. It’s only natural that all the other aubs are desperate for some form of connection to Aub Alexandria.”
Father was right, but actually obtaining those connections was a monumental task. An underage girl would naturally attract men seeking to marry her, but Lady Rozemyne already had a partner in Lord Ferdinand. He had obtained the Zent’s approval, exchanged feystones, and arranged an engagement ceremony in the brief period between the Lanzenave War and the Archduke Conference. Nobody could hope to best him.
As someone who had seen the fighting up close, I knew that it was nothing but reckless to oppose Lord Ferdinand. He could formulate and execute several plans at once, meaning the only way to defeat him was to lay several traps and pray that he might wander into them. Otherwise, he was practically unbeatable now that he was properly engaged to Lady Rozemyne.
“Lord Ferdinand will not take any other wives now that he is engaged to a female aub,” Mother said.
Lestilaut crossed his arms and nodded. “Some aubs proposed that he take mistresses alongside the aub, but he shot them down every time. He said that Aub Alexandria is every one of his goddesses.”
“Oh my!” I exclaimed. “I was not aware of that. You simply must tell me more!”
During my time in Ehrenfest, Lady Rozemyne had spoken dryly about her marriage to Lord Ferdinand, explaining it away as a political union devoid of romance. He must have won her over with his words and actions in the meantime. Her heart had surely been moved by his passion.
I gazed up at Lestilaut, my own heart brimming with hope, but he just grimaced. “I don’t have anything more to tell you. He said it with a suspicious grin, so I don’t know how serious he was.”
I was desperate for the details, but my brother cut the conversation short. It was a shame, really—the little he had told me sounded so sweet that it could have come straight from the pages of a love story. I resolved to ask Lady Rozemyne for the rest.
On second thought, perhaps not. Her response will surely be as draining as when she opined about creating a library city.
If an exciting tale of romance was what one desired, then Lady Rozemyne was the last person to ask. I knew that well from my experience in Ehrenfest.
“As it stands,” Mother said, “Alexandria’s archducal family comprises only Lord Ferdinand, Lady Rozemyne, and Lady Letizia—although most still view the latter as an archduke candidate of Old Ahrensbach. She is currently engaged to Lord Hildebrand.”