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AND so, Operation Save Bern officially began. The plan was to carve out a space where she could be her true self—to establish a female knights order within the royal capital.
The court had been thrown into chaos: opportunists who sought a cut of the Eisberks’ vast territory, conniving schemers hoping to replace House Eisberk, and sly foxes who boasted how they had lurked in the shadows awaiting the perfect opportunity to strike, ran rampant. And then there were those with good intentions, those who held their peace.
Marlena announced that she was removing herself from all governmental affairs on account of losing her primary escort. If anyone made a good argument for why a female order should exist, it was she. Marlena was so beloved by the people that even the anti-Eisberk crowd wanted her to resume her tours of inspection.
The Wurzels pleaded with the court for Bern’s forgiveness. Bern was quite popular among their vassals, who had witnessed Bern defend the princess firsthand. Kraut had also mentioned the bear incident to his parents, so it was their house’s way of repaying the favor.
The White Lily Tea Party members rallied their support for Bern. High society’s largest clique started a campaign of rumors—how Lilia had been heard to say that her family, in a show of subservience to the crown, would not set one foot outside Eisberk, nor deliver a single horse, until granted pardon.
That in particular gave the Eisberks’ detractors a good scare. The Cavalry Brigade occasionally cleared out the monsters in the forest bordering their lands, so what would happen if they suddenly stopped? And if Eisberk no longer supplied the kingdom with horses? The consequences would be plain to see.
Elfenbein was deployed to a remote outpost in the south, likely as a means of detaching him from the rest of his house for monitoring purposes. The region was an infamous gathering ground for insubordinate officers and ruffians, and initially there were doubts regarding Elfenbein’s ability to endure such a harsh social environment given his gentle nature. But he didn’t just endure; he thrived in the position, further bolstering trust in the Eisberks. Some even clamored for his promotion to captain, an appointment he agreed to accept only in exchange for Bern’s exoneration.
Perhaps Elfenbein’s mild demeanor had merely been an act all along. Bern’s siblings were terrifying wherever they went, it seemed.
Marquess Vulkan didn’t come to the Eisberks’ defense, quite the opposite: he dismissed his advisor as punishment for breaking military law. Allegations of collusion between the two families slowly dwindled as a result. Felzen, likewise, feigned complete ignorance. Knowing Felzen, I suspected the act was taking an immense emotional toll, but, as the man himself said with a smile, he’d give up his life if it meant resolving the situation.
Zanto’s behavior was the most confusing of all. He didn’t mount any pressure on the royal court whatsoever. When questioned on the matter, he tiptoed around the subject. And yet, whenever he had the time, he went on “private trips,” as he called them, to Eisberk. There was seemingly no merit to befriending the Eisberks at a time when even the Vulkans kept them at arm’s length. His movements didn’t make sense, which worried the opposition.
Blue fans symbolizing support of the Lunar Ice Knight’s return began cropping up here and there. There were no protests or shouting; people simply went about their day with a blue fan in hand, the color, of course, meant to represent Bern.
Eisberk showed no signs of revolt, only begged for pardon. And despite the house’s lack of status, the incident sparked massive interest.