“I would have liked to wait for our rumors to spread, but alas—I cannot let them get ahead of me,” I said. “I shall submit a formal proposal to Dunkelfelger posthaste.”
“Understood.”
Determined not to surrender the second divine avatar to another duchy, I had proposed without a moment’s hesitation. Dunkelfelger had yet to respond.
“What could be taking so long?” I grumbled.
“Perhaps they are waiting for Lady Hannelore to regain consciousness.”
“It is a father’s right to decide whom his daughter marries. Whether she is conscious is irrelevant.” Aub Dunkelfelger’s absurd approach to decision-making exasperated me. Delaying a response to a former royal was unforgivable.
“Despite being a Dunkelfelger noble, her suitors’ father will need to be placated,” a scholar explained. “An immediate response might be too much to hope for.”
In hindsight, rather than submitting a proposal, it might have been better to wield my authority as a former royal and order that Hannelore become my wife. Aub Dunkelfelger could then have used my demand to silence any complaints from his family. It was a most unfortunate oversight.
“Hmm... How goes our endeavor to spread rumors through the Academy?” I asked the scholar. “Have we kept Aub Dunkelfelger from being able to rush an engagement with Hannelore’s current suitors?”
“Yes. The rumors gained traction and continue to circulate.”
According to the students’ reports, there was a growing consensus that it would be improper for a divine avatar to marry a mere archnoble. I was contemplating my next move when another scholar hurried into my office.
“Lord Sigiswald—a response from Dunkelfelger.”
I accepted the letter from the scholar and started to read through it.
“Drewanchel has sought Hannelore’s hand and challenged Dunkelfelger to bride-stealing ditter. To that end, we can accept no external proposals. If you wish to marry her as well, then you must also challenge us to bride-stealing ditter. We appreciate your understanding.”
Bride-stealing ditter?!
I was at a loss for words, barely able to comprehend the message before me. I read it over and over again, but the text did not change.
“Lord Sigiswald, what does it say...?” a scholar asked.
“It would seem that Drewanchel intends to give me no quarter,” I said, showing the contents of the letter.
“‘Bride-stealing ditter’?” the scholar read aloud, eyes wide with shock.
What a brutish way to resolve a proposal from another duchy.
This was a matter to be settled through discussion, not by force of arms. Against the battle-hardened front-runner in the duchy rankings, how could lower-ranked duchies ever hope to make their voices heard otherwise?
“Aub Korinthsdaum, what are we to do?”
“I cannot allow anyone to take the second divine avatar from me. She is key to my ambition of becoming the next Zent.”
“Shall we issue our challenge, then?”
The scholars and knights in the room swallowed at the thought.
I gave a single, curt nod. “One would normally consider it foolish to challenge Dunkelfelger to battle, given their claim to being the Zent’s sword, but we can secure victory if we take the right approach.”
“Is that so?”
“The proposed game might resemble treasure-stealing ditter, but it differs in one key respect: Dunkelfelger will have a bride to protect, while we will not. Against just Drewanchel and Korinthsdaum, they would surely emerge victorious, but what if more than half of the country were to propose? Would they be able to protect Hannelore from such a formidable onslaught?”
Without a bride to keep safe, we could take an entirely offensive approach. My knights must have recognized our potential for victory because, at last, they nodded in agreement with me. I closed my eyes and smiled knowingly; we would need to lay as much groundwork as we could before issuing our challenge.
“Spread the word,” I commanded.
“At once,” a scholar replied, brisk and eager. “What shall we say?”
“The truth. Make it known that Drewanchel’s actions have enabled any duchy to challenge Dunkelfelger to bride-stealing ditter. This is the perfect opportunity to propose to the second divine avatar—a chance victory, and she is ripe for the taking.”
Neither Drewanchel nor Dunkelfelger could deny the facts as they stood. If one wished to marry Hannelore, they would need to take part in bride-stealing ditter.
“At the same time,” I continued, “exaggerate the strength of the bond the winner will forge with Dunkelfelger.”
The country’s aubs had seen for themselves that Eglantine prioritized Dunkelfelger even over her home duchy of Klassenberg now that the former had secured its place at the top of the rankings. Considering the long-term advantages such a relationship would offer, any duchy would view pursuing Hannelore as a worthwhile endeavor.
“And on that note—claim that Dunkelfelger, being as obsessed with ditter as they are, will rejoice at having so many challengers. Use their bride-stealing ditter match against Ehrenfest two years ago as an example.”
If we emphasized that the match was between future aubs, that it was held at the Royal Academy, and that the relationship between their duchies had only strengthened since, every duchy in Yurgenschmidt would surely want to participate.
“Do not forget, anything that is not true must be presented as speculation. Ensure that our words cannot be used against us,” I said. “I doubt Dunkelfelger would criticize us—not when they were guilty of their own trickery—but there is no harm in being cautious.”
The scholars wasted no time in writing down my instructions. I had to wonder if we could seize victory by any means other than increasing the number of attacking duchies.
Hopefully they can wear down our enemy’s forces.
“Oh, and what of that first-year?” I asked as a certain ditter-obsessed archduke candidate came to mind. “Can we use him to fracture Dunkelfelger?” I had already been manipulating him into causing trouble at the Royal Academy, intent on knocking his duchy from the top of the rankings, but now seemed an especially opportune time to use him.
“He already seems to be causing unrest in his dormitory. I will instruct the students to goad him further.”
“Good. Tomorrow afternoon, we shall challenge Dunkelfelger ourselves. Prepare the documents.”
“As you wish.”
Content with the scholar’s response, I instructed my head attendant to prepare some tea. The past few days had been a nightmare, and I was more than ready for a moment of peace.