Kenntrips was so muscular that it never surprised me when other duchies mistook him for a knight. In truth, he was an apprentice scholar of the sword, and today was one of the few chances he would get to take part in a ditter match. This year in particular would demand a lot from him, as information was even more valuable than usual, so I wondered why he had abstained.
“Many thought the same of you, Lady Hannelore, given your experience with true ditter. Rasantark despaired when he heard it was not so.”
Kenntrips and Rasantark were only half-brothers, but one would never guess it from how close they were. They both had mothers from other duchies, so they had striven to adjust to Dunkelfelger’s ways together.
“Enough about me,” I said. “Scholars have very few chances to take part in ditter, do they not? I remember how much you used to long for opportunities to play.”
Kenntrips seemed taken aback for a moment, then chuckled. He took my hand, and we continued toward the training grounds.
“People change with time,” he explained. “Playing ditter with my dormmates no longer entices me. Instead, I find my entertainment in gathering information. I do enjoy observing the tendencies of each knight and formulating new means of deploying magic tools, but I know no other game will match the thrill of our bride-stealing ditter with Ehrenfest.”
Compared to all the chatter of the past few days, Kenntrips’s words were a breath of fresh air. It was strange, though; he sounded entirely like one of Father’s scholars.
“I am not the only one who has changed,” he said at length. “You have as well.”
I gazed down at myself. “Have I?” He was far from the first person to say it, though I was not sure I agreed.
“You have grown into a fine archduke candidate. Upon arriving at the dormitory, I intended to check whether the gathering spot needed to be healed and request your aid if so, but Professor Rauffen informed me you were one step ahead. I express my sincere gratitude as representative of the sixth-years.”
“In the past, I always entrusted such administration to Lestilaut...”
Before my brother’s graduation, I would never have guessed just how much he had to oversee. Last year had given me a taste, as all the work he set aside in preparation for his ceremony had gone to me. As much as everyone had advised me not to encroach on my brother’s duties, since he was slated to become the next aub, I should have observed him more closely or gotten him to help teach me.
“And that is not all,” Kenntrips continued. “We have known each other for years, but even I was shocked to hear how Lady Crybaby had made up for her past shame.” Nostalgia brought a slight crease to his gray eyes. “I would never have expected you to play true ditter—not even to save a friend.”
“Um... I simply thought it was for the best,” I said. Hearing that nickname from around the time of my baptism made me embarrassed, to say the least. “As much as everyone praises me for my involvement, getting to play ditter was the last thing on my mind.”
In the heat of the commotion, there had not been time to validate the information Lady Rozemyne was bringing us. We had doubted she would try to deceive us, but we had also wondered if she was giving us the whole picture.
She hinted at having the Grutrissheit, but mere words exchanged through the aubs’ water mirrors are far from concrete proof.
We had found ourselves in a tricky situation. If, as we had suspected, Lady Rozemyne was to become the next Zent, then we were duty bound to assist her. Any reinforcements we sent would need a member of the archducal family to lead them, but Aub Dunkelfelger, the Zent’s sword, had a greater obligation to the Sovereignty. If the situation there had gone south, then he might have been taken to task for taking knights into Ahrensbach.
In the end, the decision had been made to have me lead the reinforcements. I already had good motivation—to clear my name and assist my dear friend. Not to mention, I was the safest option in case something went wrong. Because of my shameful misstep at the Academy, I was well suited to being cut off to spare the rest of our duchy from punishment.
“Ideal choice or not, Lady Crybaby would never have led the charge into true ditter,” Kenntrips explained. “As you were, I also found it hard to imagine you marrying into another duchy—especially under such complex and confusing circumstances.”
The retainer at the head of our group reached out a hand and pulled open the door to the training grounds. At once, enthused shouts, passionate cries, and all the other sounds of a fervorous ditter match shook the air. So awful was the clamor that I wished to cover my ears—but at that same moment, Kenntrips bent down to whisper to me.
“Given how much you have changed, would you perhaps consider marrying into another duchy? If the idea appeals to you, then I shall do everything I can to help, no matter the cost.”
“Kenntrips?”
The very thought stopped me in my tracks. Father’s choices for my future husband were as good as a declaration that he wanted me to marry within our duchy. As I stared at Kenntrips, unsure how else to respond, he moved to escort me to my seat.
Kenntrips had protected me since I was a little girl, intervening whenever my brother had grown too spiteful. As I gazed upon him now, however, I saw barely a trace of emotion on his face. I narrowed my eyes, watching him carefully. Maybe he was testing me.
I waited for Kenntrips to take the seat beside me, then gave him a sound-blocker. “Are you suggesting that I marry into Korinthsdaum? That is beyond cruel.” As my brother’s retainer, he should have known that Lord Sigiswald was a man of ill repute. The main reason my father wanted me to marry a Dunkelfelger man was to refuse the former prince’s proposal.
“Not at all, Lady Hannelore. I meant a duchy of your choosing.”
“Were it that easy, Father would have arranged it long ago.”
Kenntrips crossed his arms in thought and turned his attention to the training grounds, still clutching his magic tool. I watched as well, my eyes drawn to the whirlwind of highbeasts soaring through the air. As well as full armor, participants wore colored cloth over their capes to make it clear which team they were playing for. I could recognize some of them from the shape or color of their mounts, but they were hard to tell apart otherwise.
That must be Rasantark.
He rode atop a blue winged horse—a fitting choice for Dunkelfelger, I thought. I watched him for a short while before Kenntrips spoke again.